Knowledge Pt.3

Knowledge pt.3

check the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Wordk Count: 6.5k

That night, Michelle couldn't sleep, whether it was due to the snoring of several of her companions or simply because she hadn't yet fully realized where she was.

She chose a bunk bed with Sunny, taking the cot below, figuring that with her habit of sleeping little at night, it would be more comfortable and effective to be underneath.

The beds were uncomfortable, hard as rocks, and sleeping on the floor would probably have been more pleasant, but the other initiates, unlike her, were already deep in the world of dreams.

Michelle sat on the floor with her back against the edge of the bed, gazing ahead at the open showers and bathrooms, a small source of light emanating from there. It was the only light in the entire room.

If it hadn't been for the thin rays of light seeping through the cracks of the door, the room would have been completely engulfed in darkness. She could barely make out the shapes of the beds, let alone who was who.

She pulled out the photo of her and Anne from under the pillow, smiling as she looked at it. She had managed to sneak it into initiation with her, hiding it under the bed while they changed to take their belongings to be incinerated.

She didn't mind seeing her clothes burn; it was like tangible proof that her past no longer existed. Ellie Black was gone; she had been replaced by a better version of herself.

Michelle.

She promised herself to give her best, to push herself to the limit, and to prove to everyone that she was the best by coming out on top. It wouldn't be easy; she was practically starting from scratch unlike many others; she was agile, fast, but lacked the physical strength she would need for the first part of initiation.

She spent the entire night wandering around the dormitory, curious to see if it held any secrets; of course, she found nothing and remained seated at the foot of her bed contemplating her choice to join the Dauntless.

It was done now; she couldn't go back or she would become an outcast, and if there was one thing she would rather do than be cast out from the faction, it was certainly to die. She would throw herself off the cliff if necessary.

She didn't understand where this innate fear of hers was coming from; when she had stepped onto the platform just a few hours earlier, she had been struck by lightning, realizing that it was the right choice.

Her place was with the Dauntless; she just had to learn to live with it.

She took advantage of the fact that everyone was asleep to take a quick shower, which turned into a full-fledged session. She stayed under the water long enough to hear her first companions waking up.

As the water streamed down her body, Michelle scrubbed vigorously at the dirt she had accumulated throughout the day, from climbing onto the platform to jumping off a moving train. She wasn't dirty, just a bit dusty, but she felt weighed down by it, her only thought being to rid herself of that sensation.

She rubbed so many times at different parts of her body that they began to redden, tingling slightly. She ignored the faint burning sensation before getting dressed and putting on the clothes they had issued that evening. They could go pick out clothes of their choice the next day with the points they were given weekly.

Eric had explained to her how things worked in the faction; there was no money, only points, earned by working or, if participating in initiation, given weekly in small amounts for personal indulgences.

Unless one had a private kitchen, everyone ate in the mess hall, saving on food expenses. The rest, besides clothes, were things they could easily do without.

But there was one thing Michelle wanted to get, a sketchbook to start drawing again. In the short time she had spent in that faction, she had felt inspired for many new drawings; she was brimming with ideas; between the cliff, the Pit, and the various tattoos, she had plenty to work with.

"You're an early bird, huh?" chuckled Sunny, still half asleep with a towel in hand for a quick shower.

Michelle smiled at her disheveled hair, resembling a bird's nest in its disorder. "I didn't sleep."

Sunny stopped and looked at her, eyes wide open. "You're crazy. If you don't sleep, you won't have the strength for training."

Her concern made Michelle smile even more. She had a friend.

"I don't need much to feel rested," she replied, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail for the day; it would be the most efficient solution to keep her hair out of her face.

"Maybe not for you, but for your body," Sunny continued as she undressed, stepping into the warm water and sighing at the heat. "It's not good for your head either; you need to sleep a certain number of hours to be fully functional."

Michelle didn't respond, but someone else did in her place. When she heard the voice, she recognized it immediately, rolling her eyes and trying to brush her teeth as quickly as possible.

"There's no need to repeat it to her; she's always been like this. A stubborn head that doesn't understand a thing."

Chloe stepped up to the sink next to Michelle's, splashing water on her face and smiling at the girl beside her. "Isn't that right, Ellie?"

"Ellie? Who's Ellie?" Sunny's voice sounded muffled under the water stream, but both former Candors heard her clearly.

"Our dear Michelle. Her real name is Ellie, or rather, it was," Chloe's tone was sharp for no apparent reason; Michelle had no problem admitting that she had decided to leave her past behind.

"Michelle?" Sunny stepped out of the shower and didn't find her new friend, but instead the girl she had just been talking to and two other guys she remembered being from Michelle's old faction.

"Oh, get used to this," replied one of the guys, the one with a buzz cut.

She looked at him confused, not knowing what he was referring to.

"Ellie takes off, silently. Don't be surprised if she leaves you in the mess to save her own ass," said the other guy, slightly shorter than the first.

She didn't know how to respond honestly, watching them while clutching her towel to her chest, immediately feeling intimidated. The girl smiled at her before turning on her heels and heading back to the dormitory.

After all, it was only six in the morning.

While Sunny was left alone in the dormitory bathrooms, Michelle was exploring the Pit. It was empty, a stark contrast from when they had arrived the day before.

There were few people, just some Dauntless heading to work or simply going to sleep after a long night shift. It was cold, very cold, and Michelle blamed it on the fact that the structure was built into the stone, consequently isolating the warmth.

She wrapped herself in the black leather jacket provided to her; it wouldn't be the most comfortable for training, so she decided to wear a simple hoodie underneath.

Trying to remember where the mess hall was, she crossed the Pit and thankfully found it right in front of her. The day before, they had taken twice as long, having taken the opposite route to see the cliff; maybe it wasn't the labyrinth she had thought it was.

As she entered the mess hall, she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was almost entirely empty, only a few Dauntless were present. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Four, sitting at the same table they had dined at the previous evening.

She decided to sit at the same table as him, directly across. When she sat down, Four looked up and gave a slight smile. "Isn't it a bit early for you, initiate?"

Michelle looked at him, feeling bored from hearing the same thing twice in a short period of time. She ignored him and poured herself a strong cup of coffee, without adding any sugar or milk, receiving a disgusted glance from her instructor.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip from the cup, savoring the pure taste of coffee that filled her mouth.

"Nothing, I just don't know many people who like their coffee plain, and... that's it."

Michelle shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast for breakfast.

She looked around the mess hall to see who was there at that early hour and pleasantly noticed that there wasn't a soul around. Just then, she spotted Eric and Max sitting at a table in the center of the room; had they just arrived?

She narrowed her eyes observing the blond, he seemed bothered by something Max was saying. They spoke in hushed and suspicious tones, one of them calm, relaxed on the bench where he sat, while the other had a cold, furious expression as he listened to what his superior had to say.

"Ignore them, it's for your own good," Four tried to warn her, but Michelle didn't shift her gaze from the unusual pair, continuing to watch them closely, wishing she could read lips at that moment.

Max turned his head slightly and caught Michelle watching them out of the corner of his eye; he whispered something to Eric, who suddenly turned his head to look at the girl.

Michelle decided it might be best to stop staring and resumed her breakfast, trying to ignore the tension building in her body from being caught. Eric's gaze was sharp, cold. It was intimidating.

She tried her hardest not to turn around to see if they were still talking, but glancing at Four, she immediately understood that someone in particular was approaching. She expected to feel a presence sitting at their table any moment, but instead, two hands fell heavily on her shoulders.

"What do we have here?" Eric's voice was almost amused as he began to move his hands over Michelle's shoulders, who was confused and scared at the same time.

Scared not because she had been caught staring, but because it felt like he was giving her a massage. With his thumbs, he started to knead her shoulder blades, and she even found it strangely enjoyable until he found a spot on both sides and pressed down, causing her to straighten up with her back immediately.

Michelle cried out in pain, but Eric didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go.

"Eric, let her go. She hasn't done anything," Four stood up abruptly, attracting the attention of the few people in the mess hall, who began to watch the scene and whisper among themselves.

"I'm not talking to you, Four. Sit down," he glared at his peer, who reluctantly took his seat again. "So, what do we have here, huh? A nosy little initiate?"

Michelle remained silent, and Eric, not appreciating her silence, pressed even harder on her shoulder blades. Michelle gritted her teeth at the unpleasant sensation, not exactly painful, but very uncomfortable.

"If I ask you a question, you have to answer me, initiate," Eric lowered himself to her eye level and whispered into her ear. "Huh? Has someone cut out your tongue already?"

The mocking tone in Eric's voice annoyed her, and before speaking, she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, hoping her voice wouldn't tremble when she spoke. "Nothing."

It came out no more than a whisper, and Eric smiled, a rather unpleasant smile according to Michelle; it was the kind of chilling smile, sadistic.

"Nothing? Are you sure, because a moment ago you seemed very interested in our conversation," now he was whispering too, amused by the situation. Max had told him to let it go, that hers was just too much curiosity, nothing to punish a girl for.

But he saw the perfect opportunity to make her talk, whether she wanted to or not. He had seen her the previous evening, silently around people who talked too much, and his curiosity was evident.

Why wasn't she speaking?

Eric stopped pressing on her shoulders, but he didn't release his grip. He straightened up and gave her two pats on the back.

"Nothing, huh? See how you'll become nothing in no time," he said, walking away without saying goodbye.

Only then did Michelle realize the silence that had fallen over the entire mess hall, causing her to blush slightly and lower her head over her own cup. She resumed sipping her coffee under Four's watchful gaze.

She was afraid she wouldn't make it; Eric's words certainly didn't help. The initiation itself was already tough, she didn't need one of the faction leaders against her as well.

Four noticed the slight trembling of her hands despite her efforts to appear impassive; he sighed, continuing to watch her.

"Don't listen to him, you have a chance like everyone else," his voice was gentle, and Michelle looked at him, grateful for his attempt at reassurance.

But the fear of not making it, of becoming an outcast, had already solidified in her mind. She would have to give her best to succeed, to use all her non-physical skills to win because she knew she didn't have much strength.

"Everything okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost," Lauren, full of energy as usual, took a seat next to Michelle for breakfast. Her good mood waned slightly as she noticed that neither her colleague nor the new recruit had said anything yet.

"Michelle, I told you to be careful. It's not a joke," Four stood up from the table, visibly annoyed.

Lauren turned to Michelle to find out what had happened, curious about her friend's strange behavior, but she ignored her, continuing to drink her cup of coffee.

The rest of the faction didn't take long to wake up; by seven in the morning, the mess hall began to fill up, and Michelle decided it was time to head to the training quarters, even if it was an hour early.

She left Lauren with a nod, which she returned with a smile. As she passed through the doors of the mess hall, she encountered Sunny and other initiates heading to breakfast.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sunny stopped her, grabbing her forearm and pausing with her.

"I'm going to find the gym," she replied, waiting for Sunny to let her go.

"Oh, okay. See you later."

Michelle began to walk through the Pit, trying to figure out where the gym actually was; there were no signs or anything that could indicate where the facility might be.

The Pit had come back to life; children ran recklessly, risking bumping into Michelle at any moment, and several Dauntless headed to work, opening the shops that faced the Pit.

She had to give the impression of being lost because someone touched her shoulder, catching her off guard. She jumped back and heard a raspy laugh.

"Hey, easy there. Didn't mean to scare you!" It was the man Max had been talking to while they waited for all the initiates to jump off the roof.

"Everything okay? Are you lost?" Michelle observed him, getting lost in the intricate tattoos that covered almost all of his skin. The man must have noticed because he smiled and rolled up his sleeves. "Do you like tattoos?"

"Yes," she replied, continuing to admire the ink patterns on his arms, fascinated.

"Where's training happening?" she asked, still captivated by his tattoos.

"See that corridor?" The man pointed to a hallway at the far end of the Pit. "There are stairs, lots of stairs, that will take you straight to where you need to go."

"Thanks," she said, tearing her gaze away from his tattoos to head towards the corridor he'd indicated. But before she could leave, he stopped her. Michelle turned to him, puzzled.

"Feel free to drop by the tattoo shop anytime. Tori and I run it. You could get one yourself." Despite his distinctive appearance, filled with piercings and covered in tattoos from head to toe, he seemed like a genuinely kind person.

He spoke to Michelle with kindness, and there was everything but ill intent in his eyes.

Michelle nodded before leaving.

The hallways were as dark as any other, and she paled at the thought of the number of stairs she'd have to climb to reach the dormitories; stairs upon stairs.

During her journey, she encountered no one, making her feel as if she were in the wrong place. After about five minutes of nothing but stairs, she reached a long, empty, dimly lit corridor. From a distance, she saw iron doors and cautiously opened them.

She was relieved to see that she was in the right place. At that moment, she understood why it took her so long to get there, with all those stairs; it was the interior of an old factory, probably, a vast empty space set up with various machinery and objects for training.

In the center of the room were four mats that she guessed would be used for hand-to-hand combat, while a few meters away, several punching bags were hung from a beam.

On the other side of the room, in a corner, there were machines that she had already seen during one of her explorations in an old abandoned complex. It was a weightlifting area.

"You're early," Four's voice echoed through the empty room, and Michelle turned to try to figure out where he was.

Four was on a bench near the mats, holding a bottle. Michelle shrugged and approached, surveying the place with attentive eyes.

"You never talk?" Four asked curiously, watching her as she moved around the gym.

"I don't like to," Michelle simply replied, touching the punching bags to gauge their weight. When she saw that they didn't budge at her touch, she realized she'd likely end up hurting her knuckles.

"I figured as much. You'll be hot in that sweater during training," Four remarked.

Michelle shrugged again, ignoring him, and Four smiled, mimicking her. In doing so, he earned a glare from her, and to defend himself, he raised his hands in the air.

The door opened again with a loud noise, grabbing both of their attention. Four stood up when he noticed Eric entering with Lauren.

They were an odd pair, with Eric looking ready to kill someone and Lauren walking with all the tranquility in the world. When she saw the initiate, she smiled.

"Always early, I like that," she said as she passed by, giving Michelle a friendly punch on the arm.

However, Eric didn't seem pleased with that small interaction and decided to stay silent, with a bored expression on his face as he took a seat on one of the benches opposite to where Four had placed his belongings.

The latter began reviewing data on a tablet, while Lauren took a seat on the other side of the gym where an area similar to where they were now was set up.

Michelle stood with her hands in her pockets, watching Four tinkering with the tablet and occasionally glancing at the blonde to her right, who seemed intent on wrapping his knuckles.

She didn't realize she was staring until she locked eyes with Eric. She immediately looked away, not wanting to risk getting in trouble like she had an hour before, and fortunately, the other initiates, both interns and transfer ones, diverted Eric's attention from her.

Michelle approached where Four was positioned. She began to feel anxious, unsure of what to expect from the first training session, and she sincerely hoped that Eric was only there to supervise.

It was barely eight in the morning, and his knuckles were already sore, blood staining the wraps he had just put on.

In a few minutes, all eleven transfer initiates gathered in front of Eric and Four, who silently observed the initiates. They waited for silence before speaking.

"The initiation is divided into three different modules: the first is more physical, the second emotional, and the third mental. These three phases will last for two months. After these, if you pass, you'll officially be part of the Dauntless," Four began, walking towards the huge windows, and Michelle was grateful she had brought her jacket.

The sky was overcast, as it had been for the past few days, indicating they wouldn't have a sunny day for a while. One of the windows lacked glass, and they passed through it to enter a rooftop, which was set up with various targets and types of firearms.

"One per station!" Four shouted, standing in front of the table where the weapons were positioned, picking up a couple and approaching the initiates to distribute them. "The three modules carry different weights on your score, so don't worry if you're not good at something; you have a chance to catch up."

"If you're not good, you'll be thrown out," Eric added, entering the rooftop behind them with a nonchalant and bored air. He took his place at the table where Four was handing out the guns.

He reached Michelle and handed her the pistol; it felt heavy in her hands, and if she were honest, she didn't like it. She weighed it, passing it from hand to hand, feeling it.

It didn't feel right in her hands. 

"Now copy my position," Four positioned himself, holding the pistol with both hands, legs slightly apart for balance. "And fire."

His shot was perfect. It hit the center of the target's head.

Michelle began to tremble slightly, feeling awkward with the gun in her hand, and looking around, it seemed like everyone else had already done it. She raised the gun and spread her legs.

Around her, several shots rang out, but few of them hit the target. Even fewer were lethal.

She was the only one who hadn't fired a shot yet. She felt as if the gun would explode in her hand if she did.

She felt Four's presence behind her before seeing or hearing him. "Everything okay?" he asked, looking at the target with her, still devoid of holes.

Michelle nodded slightly, and he looked at her, immediately understanding what the problem was. It wasn't the first time he had seen someone react that way to a gun; it was a natural reaction to be afraid of a firearm.

With a gentle touch, he adjusted her stance, nudging her legs apart a little more with his foot.

"If it helps, close one eye to aim," he said, waiting for her to pull the trigger. Michelle took a deep breath, closing her eyes to try to isolate herself from her surroundings.

She opened her eyes and took aim, still trembling a bit, but when she fired the first shot, she managed to hit the silhouette. Nothing lethal, but she would certainly have lost the use of her right leg if it had been a person.

"Well done," he said before moving on to the person next to her.

Michelle smiled at having managed to pull the trigger and looked around, unconsciously searching for Sunny. She saw her busy shooting at a position a little to the right of her, and when she looked at Sunny's target, she was surprised to see two shots to the head, lethal, and some to the abdomen.

When she realized someone was watching her, she turned, locking eyes with Michelle. Sunny smiled at her, a euphoric expression on her face.

Michelle resumed shooting at her target, but she could only hit the arms or legs. She huffed in frustration at not being able to get closer to the heart or head.

"Is that the best you can do?" Eric's derisive tone caught her off guard, turning her head so quickly it gave her a headache.

She watched him in silence, hoping that after this comment, he would leave to torment another initiate. But he stayed there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her as if she were incapable.

"Shoot."

Michelle turned, the trembling in her hands more pronounced under the critical gaze of one of the leaders. She took a breath and took aim. The shot threw her off balance a bit, feeling the recoil more than before.

Surprisingly, she managed to hit the area between the neck and shoulder.

"See you below the red line, initiate," Eric whispered in her ear.

He left Michelle at her station, annoyed to see so many incompetent people gathered together. His eye fell on a girl, the shortest among them all, who had managed to hit the head, heart, and abdomen with every shot.

He stopped behind her, observing her technique. She was short, lacking muscles, without curves, but she had good technique.

The girl realized his presence behind her and briefly turned her head to see who it was. Seeing Eric, she turned her head back to the target, frightened. The stories from Four and Lauren had terrified her; she wanted to have as little to do with him as possible.

"Name?" his tone was monotone.

"T-Tina," she stammered, glancing to her left to observe Max, who watched the scene suspiciously.

"Not bad," he said, returning to take a round to see how the other initiates were faring.

Tina blushed at the compliment, turning to Max to silently celebrate.

Four kept an eye on him, feeling his gaze on his back, and if he were honest, he was annoyed by that behavior. He turned to look at him, catching him again near the same initiate he had sat next to at breakfast that morning.

What was so special about her? He had been wondering since Max, at breakfast that morning, had told him to keep an eye on Michelle. He hadn't told him why, just to be careful of her movements.

He didn't understand; she was obviously incapable, lacking muscles or strength, and she would be thrown out at the end of the first module. Wasting energy on such a recruit was pointless in his opinion.

They remained on the roof for the entire morning, shot after shot, everyone managed to become familiar with the pistol. Some more than others.

Sunny joined Michelle as soon as Four declared that they would have an hour for lunch, releasing them.

"It was amazing!" exclaimed Sunny, taking Michelle's arm, who, on the contrary, had a rather annoyed expression. Her arms and fingers were tingling from the effort of holding the gun up in the air for hours.

"Don't you like it?" Tina asked, joining the two girls and noticing Michelle's unhappy expression. "I thought it was so cool!"

"You did great," commented Sunny.

"Thank you, you were pretty good too," Tina took Sunny side to talk to her, but they were interrupted by Max, who, in a rather impolite manner, barged into the conversation.

"I, girls, was much better than all of you put together," he puffed up his chest, strutting around like a peacock to show off.

Tina shoved him playfully, laughing. "Yeah, right. That's why Eric came to compliment you," she said proudly, and Michelle felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that he had complimented her, when instead he had told her that she wouldn't even pass to the next module.

Michelle detached herself from the group, irritated by Tina's showing off. She knew it was a bit of an overreaction, she had no reason to take it so personally, but knowing that she was already on thin ice made her even more irritable than before.

"Hey…" Sunny tried to call out to her in vain, Michelle quickened her pace to reach the cafeteria.

She arrived at the cafeteria sooner than expected, overtaking anyone in her way, and when she reached the Pit, she was joined by Sunny. Unconsciously, she relaxed, a more serene expression on her face knowing that her one friend in that faction was by her side.

In many ways, Sunny reminded her of Anne, perhaps it was the fact that she was insistent and wouldn't leave unless she spoke to her.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, approaching her because of the noise in the cafeteria. A worried expression on her face.

Michelle pondered whether to tell her or if it was too stupid of a reason, but seeing her so concerned, she decided to talk to her about it. "Eric is convinced that I won't pass the first module."

Sunny looked at her first surprised and then angry. "Don't listen to him, we've just started. You have plenty of time to improve, and besides, you weren't even among the worst. Some didn't even hit an arm on the target!"

"I don't know what to say," Michelle shrugged and went to sit at the same table she had chosen since it always seemed to be empty.

"Ignore him, show him that you're the best in here," Sunny clung to her arm, smiling, and Michelle couldn't help but laugh along.

She reminded her too much of Anne.

"Anyway," Michelle lifted her head from her plate when she heard Sunny speaking to her, "What do you think of the other initiates?"

Michelle looked around to locate where the remaining nine initiates were sitting. Most of the former Erudite were sitting together, except for the brunette in front of her; the two Abnegation were sitting by themselves with the lone former Amity.

Then there were her former faction mates, talking amongst themselves on the other side of the cafeteria.

She shrugged. "Nothing special."

"True, but that Patrik over there is really good at shooting. He also seems to be in good shape," Michelle turned to look at the boy sitting with Chloe and Connor, with his usual cocky expression.

Michelle remembered all the times she saw him bullying some poor kid at school; it was obvious he was in good shape. He was the type of person who sailed through every situation, and it was almost normal for him to be so comfortable among the Dauntless.

"I guess you two don't get along from the way you're looking at him," Sunny turned to her, smiling mischievously.

"He's been a jerk since we were kids, that's all," Michelle replied bluntly.

"Yeah, it shows," her friend said lightly, returning to her meal.

The remaining ten minutes passed in silence as they finished eating and headed back to the training quarters. Michelle and Sunny were the first to leave the cafeteria and the first to arrive in the gym, after Four, of course.

He turned to look at them when they entered and then returned to writing something on a whiteboard placed near the various mats used for combat. "Today we start with techniques, we don't want you to get hurt."

"Good," Sunny said, starting to stretch, receiving confused looks from Michelle. "You should stretch too; it will make your muscles hurt less."

Michelle trusted her, especially after Four nodded in agreement with her friend. She stood next to her, copying her movements, and discovered that she was more flexible than she had imagined.

It didn't take more than ten minutes, just enough time for the huge room to fill up again with the transfers.

Michelle looked around and was relieved not to see Eric with them, but rather in the distance with the Dauntless kids and Lauren. Maybe this time she would be able to do her best without feeling intimidated.

She was wrong.

Eric's presence or absence didn't change the fact that she struggled to move the punching bag. She was relieved to see that many of her other classmates were in the same situation, although not exactly as bad.

Four moved from initiate to initiate to correct their form and give advice on how to improve, but when he came to her, he remained silent, observing her.

"You lack strength," he remarked, moving from her right side to her left. Michelle felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "But you're fast, very fast. Use that to your advantage."

He helped her improve her form, slightly bending her back and then pointing out critical points to strike. She felt slightly relieved to know that she wasn't completely lost, but that she simply needed to focus more on her tactics than strength.

Four had been kind in correcting her mistakes, in highlighting her weakness, but she knew that when Eric passed by, he could bury her. 

As she continued to hit the punching bag, she thought about how much harder than expected it would be to pass the initiation; she never imagined it would be so tough. Had something changed?

Towards the end of the training, Four stopped them and ordered them to pair up according to what was written on the whiteboard. Michelle paused for a moment to catch her breath and, walking towards the whiteboard, saw that her name was not paired with anyone.

She looked at Four in confusion, who approached her. "You're odd, one of you had to be with me."

Everyone took their places on the mats, and Four began to speak. "Now apply what you've done so far between yourselves. Don't hit each other hard; it's just to get the hang of the movements."

He turned to Michelle, giving her a small smile. "You start."

Initially, she was worried about having to train with their instructor, thinking he would be too harsh, but instead, it was pleasant; the movements were fluid, and every mistake he corrected, showing her a more effective way to defend or attack.

"Four!" all the initiates stopped to watch Eric advance towards them, a malicious grin on his face. "Allow me to give a demonstration."

Four looked at him grimly, not pleased with his tone and behavior. He approached them and took his place in front of Michelle, before casting a brief glance at the other initiates.

"Continuing like this will get you nowhere," he said sternly. "You have to prove that you're the best for us to choose you."

He assumed an attacking position, and Michelle watched him, immediately going into defense mode. She tried to hide the trembling in her hands as people began to surround them to watch the scene.

Everyone knew Michelle wouldn't come out of this without a bit of blood. Especially Four.

"Now watch, and maybe you'll learn something," Eric said before turning his attention back to Michelle, immediately noticing her insecurity and trembling. He smiled, pleased with her reaction.

Eric began to circle, forcing Michelle to move. He waited a few seconds before taking a step and then attacking, which she immediately noticed, allowing her to dodge the punch coming her way.

He was surprised, he had to admit.

After the first missed strike, he focused on the poor girl, launching blow after blow but failing to land a hit. Sunny watched them tense, ready to assist her friend as soon as something happened.

Four was surprised; he had noticed her speed but underestimated her tactics; Michelle could anticipate Eric's moves.

Eric, unlike Four, was more pissed off and annoyed than surprised. Sure, it was lasting longer than he wanted, but the fact that he missed her by inches was infuriating him.

Their skirmish picked up speed, and Michelle began to miss shots; her anxiety was starting to get the better of her. Her movements became less precise, and with a lunge, Eric managed to graze her, making him realize that this was his chance.

Michelle tried to dodge his strikes, but with each blow, Eric was getting closer and closer to hitting her. She was short of breath, her heart racing as she struggled to hold her ground.

The only thing she could focus on were Eric's words, telling her that she wouldn't make it, that she would be eliminated at the end of the first module, and as much as she wanted his words to motivate her, they had the opposite effect.

They dragged her down.

She got distracted for a moment, just a second, and in that moment, Eric managed to land a hit on her cheekbone. Michelle fell to the ground, and for a few seconds, she felt nothing, neither the people around her nor the pain.

But then it came.

She gritted her teeth in pain, the sharp sensation preventing her from opening her eyes. It felt as if her entire face had been shattered into a thousand pieces by that simple punch.

In the background, she could hear Eric's voice speaking to the initiates, but she couldn't focus on his words because of the intense pain.

She remained on the ground for a while, not too long, because when she got up, Eric was still standing in front of her, proud with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her.

He smiled at her. "That's how you get yourself kicked out," he exclaimed to the other initiates before dismissing them.

It was already six o'clock.

Some of them stayed to watch Michelle for a few more seconds before heading back to the dormitory to take a shower. She remained still, holding the right side of her face with her hand, the pressure alleviating the pain.

She stared at Eric, who was still on the mat. He looked back at her, pleased with the blow he had landed; it would leave a nasty bruise if it hadn't already broken it.

They locked eyes, a silent promise to make each other's lives hell.

MATERIALIST

-Emmett Cullen

-Jasper Hale

-Carlisle Cullen -You're My Half

MATERIALIST

-Sirius Black

-Remus Lupin

-Viktor Krum

-James Potter

-Draco Malfoy

Knowledge Prologue

check out my other works here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 475

Warnings: REALLY slow burn, angst, ncn elements, charachte death, Eric being an asshole at the start, hurt/comfort

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"No, how could I be?"

"Come on, Ellie, it won't be the end of the world." A slender, red-haired girl with a face dotted with freckles smiled at her, attempting to reassure her, but to no avail, as she too was gripped by anxiety. "So, it's decided." her smile slwowly fading.

Ellie, gazing at the panorama before her, watched as the city below slowly faded with the onset of night. A gentle wind blew, and she tried to shield herself from its cold by wrapping herself in the white blazer draped over her shoulders.

She shrugged, her voice a sigh. "It was decided years ago, Anne..."

Anne looked at her, tears welling up in her eyes. The looming Aptitude Test would separate them, the friendship they had forged would break irreparably.

They could have lied, said everything would be fine, but in that moment, on the rooftop of the building where they had lived for sixteen years and shared countless memories, they realized it would be one of the last times they would see each other.

The redhead approached her friend, resting her head on her shoulder, seeking comfort. Ellie embraced her, allowing a few tears to escape, silently reliving all the moments they had shared together.

But in the end, they had always known. They had become inseparable for a reason, both excluded from the faction that was supposed to be their home, too different from all the other kids dressed in black and white like them, yet at the same time too different from each other to choose the same faction.

Anne was, she was good.

Ellie watched her as she tried to suppress her sobs, hiding within her arms. Her heart was made of gold, rare in its kind. Always ready to help others, hesitant to speak anything but the truth knowing it could hurt someone.

However, the Candor were not pleased with all this caring nature of hers. They were not pleased even with Ellie's silence, especially with her penchant for getting into trouble.

Her mother considered her a disgrace to their family. Ellie's antics tarnished the name her father had built through years of hard work before disappearing, presumably killed by the outcasts, those without a faction.

It wasn't a secret that her mother was more excited for Ellie's Aptitude Test day than Ellie herself. She didn't hide the fact that if Ellie left their faction, she would do everyone a favor.

"I'll miss you," Anne managed to say as she wiped away her tears, her eyes now red and slightly swollen.

Ellie smiled faintly but said nothing, returning her gaze to the landscape before them; the city was fully illuminated now that the sun had completely set, creating a breathtaking view.

"I should go, or they'll wonder where I am. Goodbye, Ellie."

"Goodbye, Anne."

Knowledge pt.9

check here for the other parts!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 6k

The music from the Pit echoed throughout the faction, ensuring everyone in the area could hear the party beginning.

Michelle sat on her bed, watching her companions prepare. Some were enthusiastic about passing the first module and ready to celebrate, while others stared blankly ahead, aware of the reality they had to face.

She wanted to sympathize with them, to feel sorry seeing them so lost for not passing the initiation and about to become outcasts in a few hours. But Michelle wasn’t good with emotions, especially those of others. She simply watched them, as usual.

Some had already left, running out of the dorms to head to the party that had already started. But she, along with Sunny and Tina, stayed behind, not in a rush to join the others. Michelle wasn’t too thrilled about the party; she wasn’t the type for such things, preferring peace and quiet.

However, as much as she hated to admit it, the two girls had a point. Such a party only happened twice a year, both times celebrating the new Dauntless officials at the end of the two modules.

“What do you think?” Sunny asked, standing in front of her bed and twirling to show off her dress. Michelle smiled slightly and nodded in approval before getting up to change into her outfit.

She felt exposed. The skirt covered almost nothing, barely reaching below her butt, and she was grateful for the built-in shorts that made her feel a bit more comfortable. The top, though flattering, seemed to reveal too much.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, taking in her pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes. Her straight hair fell over her shoulders, partially covering her exposed back.

Her attention shifted from her reflection when Sunny entered the bathroom with a small bag in hand and a mischievous smile. “Now for the makeup! Come here and sit down, I’ll bring some life back to you.”

“Sunny—”

“No, I won’t hear it!” Sunny exclaimed, opening the bag and pulling out makeup. “Tonight, you need to be your best self, and maybe you’ll even find someone,” she sang, and Michelle wondered why the two girls were so insistent on this. Did she really seem that miserable alone?

It didn’t matter to her, not really, just like she didn’t care about her former companions who would disappear from their lives tomorrow. She shouldn’t care, because one thing her friends didn’t know was that, in the end, someone did occupy a part of her thoughts.

In a very deep and isolated part of her mind, a pair of icy blue eyes looked at her with disapproval, repeating the veiled insults he always threw her way. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t forget those moments when she saw a glimmer of pride and something else she couldn’t decipher.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Sunny step back to get a better look at her, smiling to herself before calling Tina into the bathroom. “Tada! A new Michelle!”

Tina's eyes widened. “Damn, you're good!” she said, turning to Sunny. “You look amazing, Mich. Now, let's go. The party started two hours ago.”

The two girls headed out of the bathroom after one last check in the mirror, but one of them noticed Michelle still standing there, immobile. “Coming?”

“I’ll meet you at the Pit,” she said quietly, staring at her reflection. Sunny hadn't gone overboard, but she had done enough to highlight her features. Her gaze, now enhanced with mascara, black eyeliner, and eyeshadow, looked harder, emphasizing her light eyes.

Sunny had also applied a dark brown lipstick. The makeup created a stark contrast with her pale skin, and for a moment, Michelle contemplated wiping it all off. She couldn't see herself as normal like this; it didn’t feel like her. But then she thought that maybe, for one night, she could be a little different.

She returned to her bed and sat down, putting on the heels they had picked up that afternoon, checking to make sure she could actually walk in them. Once she felt confident enough in her balance, she sat on the bed again. This time, she lifted the pillow and took out the photo of her and Anne from underneath.

As the weeks passed, the photo was getting more and more worn, with a white stripe now visible in the corner from being folded too many times.

It hadn’t been that long since their last meeting, yet Michelle felt light-years away from her best friend, her sister. She wondered how Anne was doing, what she was doing at that moment, and whether she was living the life she wanted.

Because Michelle, at that moment, was living both her dream and her nightmare simultaneously.

Her heels echoed through the empty hallways, though the sound was quickly drowned out by the music. When Michelle peered into the Pit, she felt her heart race. The place was packed with people, making it impossible to recognize anyone from a distance.

Some were dancing, some playfully fighting, others drinking near the bar, and some simply sitting on a ledge with a drink in hand. She quickly realized that this wasn’t her scene. Yet, just as she turned to retreat back to her bed, she bumped into Tyson.

“Well, look at you! All dressed up, where are you going? You’re not heading to bed already, are you?” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her forward. “I guess you’re not much of a party lover, huh? Doesn’t seem like your thing, all quiet and mysterious.”

Michelle sidestepped, causing Tyson’s arm to fall back to his side, but she decided to continue walking with him toward the center of the party. She crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to glance around as they started to encounter the first groups of Dauntless.

“No, I wouldn’t say so,” she said, and Tyson miraculously heard her over the noise surrounding them.

“I figured,” he replied, leaning down to speak into her ear. “But trust me, it’s worth it. Their parties here are out of this world.”

When they reached the crowd, Tyson grabbed her arm to pull her forward, ensuring he didn’t lose her among the bodies moving around them. Michelle had to resist making disgusted faces every time a sweaty guy or girl bumped into her by accident.

The music made her heart and the rest of her body tremble as they reached the bar. “What do you want?” Tyson yelled to be heard, and Michelle just shrugged. She had never drunk anything more than a few sips of her mother’s liquor in secret.

Tyson turned to the bar, chatting with one of the bartenders, and they seemed to get lost in conversation. She took the opportunity to scan the crowd for Sunny or even Tina. Her attempts were futile; all she could see was a sea of people dancing and singing to the music.

The place was illuminated by green and red lights moving through the crowd like lasers, and the smell was highly unpleasant—a mix of sweat, alcohol, and perfume. She grimaced when a girl stumbled and nearly fell on her.

She decided to find her friends, spend a few minutes with them, and then retreat, hating the situation she had found herself in. She longed to return to her bubble of silence and solitude, like when she spent her mornings alone in the gym. But her plans were thwarted once again by Tyson, who handed her a pink drink that made her wrinkle her nose. He grabbed her arm again, leading her away from the crowd.

“You’ll like it here more; it’s much quieter,” he said as they distanced themselves from the throngs of people near the bar. The entire Pit was packed, but the area Tyson led her to was surprisingly more isolated, with only a few groups of relatively calmer people chatting animatedly among themselves.

However, when Michelle saw where Tyson was taking her, she felt her heart leap out of her chest. It wasn’t just the sight of Eric, clad in a black shirt that clung almost illegally to the muscles of his chest and biceps, or the jeans that fit his legs all too well. It was more the sight of the girl wrapped around him that made her heart race. 

Michelle recognized her: Mia. The girl who, upon their first meeting, had treated her more rudely than necessary.

Tyson put his arm around her shoulders again, making her walk a bit faster, and this time Michelle didn’t shrug him off. Instead, she took the straw and drank from the glass. Her throat burned, but a sweet taste flooded her mouth.

“Oh, hey guys!” Tyson shouted when they were a few meters away. He detached himself from Michelle to greet his friends with a handshake and a pat on the back, while Michelle stood there, contemplating what to do next.

This wasn't her place; she wanted to leave, especially when Tyson returned and slung his arm around her shoulders to introduce her to the group. "Guys, this here is Michelle! One of the initiates who passed the first module, right? Third place? Second?"

He gave her a slight shake when he saw her usual expressionless face, his smile indicating he was already intoxicated. He turned to his friends, chuckling a bit. "She’s not much of a talker, as you can see."

"You going after the initiates now?" commented a guy who looked a couple of years older than Michelle. He raised an eyebrow, and the guy held up his hands in defense. "If I were him, I would too."

"Shut up, Axl. You’re making yourself look worse," someone retorted.

"Yeah, because you’re just desperate, you idiot," Mia said. The girl clinging to Eric sized Michelle up from head to toe, as if she were a lost child. She detached herself from the young leader and walked over, and despite wearing heels, she remained shorter than Michelle. "We haven't had a chance to introduce ourselves. Michelle, right? I'm Mia. Pleasure to meet you," she said, her voice dripping with venom.

Michelle glanced at the hand Mia offered, then took a sip of her drink, looking Mia directly in the eyes without accepting the handshake. Mia made a face and withdrew her hand. "Not only mute but rude too. Where do you find them lately, Ty?"

A few people in the group snickered while Tyson adjusted his hat and rolled his eyes. "Don't be a bitch, Mia," he said, playfully putting his arm back around Michelle's shoulders. "Not everyone has trouble keeping their mouth shut like you."

Mia huffed and went back to clinging to Eric’s shoulder, who absentmindedly placed his hand on her hip. Michelle tightened her grip on her drink, nerves frayed. The alcohol was already going to her head, and all she wanted was to leave—or maybe smash Mia’s hand.

“Tell your little friend to loosen up a bit. It wouldn’t be such a turn-off having her here,” Mia said.

“Learn to keep your legs closed then,” Tyson shot back, laughing as he released his hold on Michelle and took a seat next to Eric, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “I’m telling you, man, pick them better and a bit less trashy.”

“Fuck you!” Mia shouted, standing up and storming off, giving Michelle a shoulder bump as she disappeared into the crowd. Michelle watched her go, a slight smile playing on her lips at seeing Mia so annoyed by her presence.

Turning back to the remaining group, Michelle took a seat on a nearby ledge, a few steps away from Tyson and Eric. She took another sip of her drink, closing her eyes as the burning sensation once again spread down her throat.

“You shouldn’t be with your friends, initiate?” Eric’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Michelle opened her eyes to find Eric looking at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. She held his gaze for a moment before responding, "They're around here somewhere. I'm just... taking a moment."

Tyson chuckled, shaking his head. “Looks like you’ve got some fight in you after all. I like that.”

Michelle shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “I just didn’t feel like dealing with anyone tonight.”

"Then leave. I don't think anyone will miss you," Eric’s words cut sharply, and Michelle felt the sting more acutely than usual. The alcohol made her more sensitive, but it was clear that his cruelty went beyond just her emotional state.

"I don’t think you like anything more than torturing me," Michelle retorted. Eric was momentarily taken aback, momentarily lost for words as he tried to suppress his smirk. "See?"

"Watch it, initiate. I won't excuse your insolence just because you're drunk," Eric warned, his voice icy.

"But you’re always complaining when I don’t respond," Michelle shot back, taking another sip of her drink. The argument was cut short as Mia returned, teetering awkwardly on her high heels and draping herself over Eric once more.

Michelle couldn't hide her irritation. She rolled her eyes and glanced at Tyson, who was clearly enjoying the spectacle. “What were you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Eric said, taking a swig from his beer. Mia pouted and forced Eric’s face back towards her with a dramatic gesture. “But if you were talking about something—”

Eric pushed Mia’s hand away with a look that could have cut glass. Michelle saw his jaw tighten and his gaze harden, revealing the cold leader she had come to know. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mia. ‘Nothing’ means nothing.”

His tone brooked no argument, and Mia fell silent, clearly embarrassed by the reprimand. Michelle couldn’t help but speculate about the nature of Mia and Eric’s relationship. Were they a couple? No, she hoped not. Friends with benefits? Probably.

The thought made her stomach churn, a feeling she tried to drown with one last gulp of her drink. Her head spun more fiercely than before, and she frowned at the now-empty glass. Rising abruptly, she steadied herself with a hand on the ledge where she had been sitting.

“Where are you going?” Tyson asked as she stood. Michelle turned her back to the group, raising her glass in a silent farewell before making her way back into the crowd.

Eric’s gaze followed her, lingering on her from head to toe, pausing uncomfortably long on the exposed skin beneath her short skirt. He grudgingly acknowledged that he had never seen her like this—a striking young woman. His eyes were drawn to the tattoo displayed on her exposed back.

Mia shifted beside him, her voice dripping with irritation. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed, clearly perturbed by Eric’s almost hypnotic gaze as Michelle walked away.

The same guy from earlier took a seat next to them, grinning. “I don’t blame him; she’s pretty stunning. If Tyson’s not into her, I might give it a shot.”

Tyson laughed heartily. “Man, there’s nothing between us,” he said, and Eric couldn’t quite explain the unexpected relief that washed over him at hearing that.

Axl quipped, “It doesn’t seem like it. You all seemed so close, I could almost feel the tension between you.”

Tyson shook his head, “No, nothing like that. Michelle just reminds me of my sister, which is why I like having her around. They’re very similar.”

A moment of silence followed this revelation before another guy from the group stepped closer. “So, Eric, what’s the verdict on the girl?”

“What do you want me to say? She’s just a girl,” Eric replied nonchalantly. However, as his friends continued to press him with curious looks, he rolled his eyes and added, “She’s not bad. She’s picking things up quickly and has her own style.”

His tone signaled the end of the discussion, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, such as who was stronger at arm wrestling between Axl and Tyson.

Meanwhile, Michelle found herself wedged in the midst of a dancing crowd, where people moved as if their lives depended on it. She scanned the crowd, trying to spot Sunny to thank her for encouraging her to come out, but the only familiar face she could find was that of her instructor, Four.

The guy was leaning against the bar, chatting casually with a woman Michelle recognized as Tori. She approached them cautiously, navigating the crowded space carefully. When she reached them, Tori greeted her warmly with a hug.

"How are you finding it here? I heard you passed the first module, and from what I hear, you did great. I'm so proud," Tori said with a bright smile. Michelle returned the gesture with a small smile of her own before turning her attention to Four.

"Have you seen Sunny?" she asked over the music. Four shook his head, glancing around the crowd before shaking it again. Michelle sighed and returned to the bar to order another drink, hoping to get the same one as before despite not knowing its name or what it was.

Fortunately, the bartender handed her the same drink as before. Just as she was about to leave, Four caught her arm, pulling her away from the crowd. Once they had distanced themselves enough, he looked her up and down, his gaze shifting to a worried expression as he glanced back toward the area she had just left.

"What were you doing over there?"

Michelle turned to see what he was referring to and, upon spotting the place she had just been, turned back to him with a shrug. "Tyson brought me there."

“Hmm,” Four said, his tone growing serious. “I can’t tell you what to do, but be careful with people like that. They’re not the kind you want to be around, especially Eric.” His concern was evident, and Michelle tried to take his words to heart, but the alcohol clouded her judgment.

Without saying a word, she turned and left him alone, heading back to the spot she had been at earlier. Her head spun, and she felt as though she were walking through a void. Yet, with each step, Four's words seemed to come to life, growing more real.

She stopped at a distance to observe the group she had just left, focusing specifically on Eric. Always so serious, so cynical, yet Michelle couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Maybe it was just a foolish sexual attraction… but if that were the case, why did it bother her so much that his arm was casually draped around Mia's waist?

Michelle took a deep breath, her senses slowly returning to her. She decided to take a different path, heeding Four's advice, someone who, unlike the others, was reliable.

As she turned on her heels and disappeared into one of the corridors, she didn't notice a pair of ice-cold eyes tracking her every movement, rising to follow her.

That night, Michelle retired early from the party. She didn't seek out her friends or drink too much—just enough to have her mind clouded. Dressed in pajamas, she found herself sitting on the edge the chasm.

The cold air and the icy droplets made her shiver in the simple shirt she wore, paired with short shorts that provided little protection from the splashes rising from below.

The drink, still half-full, rested beside her, and the small notebook and pencil she had retrieved from her room lay across her lap as she let herself be rocked by the silence, broken only by the sound of the water below.

She leaned forward slightly to take a look, shivering at the sight of the water crashing so aggressively against the rock walls, causing the water level to rise a few inches below her feet with each collision.

She remembered what Four had said about how people, so foolish, would throw themselves down there, meeting certain death. A current like that would carry away even the strongest, and in a twisted sense, Michelle was curious—curious to see what a body would become if it fell into that abyss.

Taking a sip from her drink with one hand and drawing random lines on a page with the other, mimicking the movement of the waves, she didn't notice the steps approaching from behind, immersed in her small bubble of solitude.

After a few minutes, however, Michelle felt a weight on her shoulders, the presence of someone sneaking into her blind spots. When she stopped, ready to react and fully aware of her vulnerable position, she turned around, hiding her surprise at seeing the young leader leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest, wearing an expression of boredom.

It was probably a bad idea—no, it was definitely a bad idea—but Michelle turned her attention back to her notebook, ignoring him as if nothing had happened. However, this did not sit well with Eric, who pushed himself off the wall to stand directly behind her.

Michelle paused her drawing again, lifting her gaze when she felt Eric approach. Their eyes met, and she couldn’t help but feel a slight flush coloring her cheeks. “What?”

She asked in a whisper.

“People told me you were headed for the chasm,” Eric said, his tone as cold as ever. “I need to make sure no initiate decides to throw themselves off, or I’ll be the one dealing with it later. So get up and go back to your dorm.”

Michelle, however, ignored him and continued sketching as if he weren’t there. She didn’t consider that with a simple push, Eric could have made her disappear without anyone ever knowing, relieving himself of a nuisance.

“I don’t have time to waste, initiate. Get up,” he said more forcefully. Michelle shook her head, and she felt a shiver as she heard him sigh in frustration behind her. “Why do you have to be so difficult? Just do what I say!”

His voice echoed ominously in the void, and Michelle, struck by the severity of his tone, realized just how precarious her situation was. But what she didn’t expect, when she sensed him moving again, was to see him sit down next to her on the edge of the chasm.

For a moment, Michelle thought maybe he felt that strange attraction between them. However, she didn’t know that his presence was far from a visit of pleasure—he would have denied it to his dying day.

In truth, Eric didn’t want to be there. He would have preferred to be in his apartment with one of his casual flings or with his friends, drinking. Instead, he received a message from Jeanine Matthews instructing him to check on Michelle after the cameras showed her near the chasm.

Eric was filled with unanswered questions and doubts about why, since the initiation began, Jeanine seemed so intent on keeping tabs on the girl, making sure she was safe. Who was Michelle? Why was she so important?

But a small part of him was personally curious to uncover the girl’s secrets. His Scholastic habits hadn’t faded, and his hunger for knowledge consumed him from within whenever Michelle didn’t answer him, ignored him, or gave him answers that didn’t quench his curiosity.

At that moment, the silence was gnawing at him, and the sound of the pencil on paper was driving him mad. “Are you planning to jump? You’d be doing everyone a favor.”

“Do you want to push me?” Michelle’s immediate response surprised him. He pretended to consider it for a moment before replying.

“You’re tempting me to do it, yes.”

Without lifting her eyes from her notebook or stopping her sketching, she responded flatly, “Go ahead.”

Eric studied her for a moment, bewildered by how different she seemed from the girl he had observed over the past months. He glanced at the nearly empty glass beside her, attributing her response to the influence of alcohol. The glass didn’t stay nearly empty for long, as he took the last sip.

This caught Michelle’s attention. Finally, she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. “That was mine.”

Even Eric had to admit that he was influenced by alcohol, though not to the extent Michelle was at that moment. But it was enough to make him want to push her buttons to provoke a reaction. Deciding to make a daring move, he grabbed the notebook from her hands, bracing for an attack. Instead, she remained impassive beside him.

He flipped through the pages casually, though he couldn’t hide the fascination in his eyes as he looked at her drawings. He hated to admit how captivated he was by what he saw on those pages, by what the girl beside him had created.

Michelle watched him closely, one of the rare times she could admire him from so near. It was perhaps a bad thing—she still couldn't explain why, despite her hatred for him, she found herself drawn to him. The problem was that Michelle wasn’t just physically attracted to the guy; she wanted to get to know him, to forge a connection between the two of them. It was probably masochistic of her to inflict such pain on herself.

“It’s rude to stare,” Eric said, his eyes still fixed on the notebook as he continued flipping through the pages until he found the drawing that resembled the tattoo on his back. He saw Michelle curl up, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them, wrapping her arms around herself.

He lifted the notebook to show her. “Is this the one you have tattooed?” he asked. Michelle shrugged nonchalantly, and Eric felt his blood boil. Gritting his teeth, he spoke sharply, “Just answer me, don’t make me angry, girl. Yes or no.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, a gesture Eric didn’t appreciate. Before he could snarl at her, she replied, “Yes, that’s it.”

“See? Not so hard to answer, is it, Initiate?” He returned to studying the drawings, imagining a similar one on himself. He had long wanted a tattoo on his arms, which seemed to grow more bare with each passing day.

But could he ask her to do one for him? If he asked, it would feel more like a command, an order, but on the other hand, he knew he couldn’t force her.

“It’s always been my way of escaping reality,” Michelle said suddenly. “I used to draw on the walls of my room; my mom was furious. I remember it like it was yesterday…” She laughed wistfully, shaking her head slightly.

Eric wanted to tell her that he didn’t care about her family or the little things she was sharing, but this was the first time he had heard her speak so much, and he found himself captivated by her words.

Her voice was both delicate and strong at the same time; even in her whispers, he could hear the confidence behind her words. He hated himself for it, feeling weak for having such thoughts about an initiate, about anyone. Yet, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, from the way her lips moved with each word.

“She never laid a hand on me, I swear, but her words hurt more than a punch,” Michelle said. At this, Eric snorted, and Michelle turned to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “It’s true, Eric. Words are the sharpest blade you can wield, but as a Dauntless-born, I don’t think you can understand that.”

Eric felt both deeply insulted and strangely flattered by her comment, both because it suggested that he had always lived within the confines of the walls and the black clothing, and because it seemed to mock him for it.

He wanted to come up with a cutting remark to prove he knew what he was talking about, but nothing came out of his mouth. What he did manage to say was, “I wasn’t born Dauntless.”

Michelle stared at him, unmoving. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want, initiate. I went through initiation two years ago; I was born Erudite,” he said, feeling perplexed when Michelle tried to suppress a smile. His mood shifted, he wasn’t sure how, but he was no longer as irritated by Michelle’s demeanor as he had been moments before.

The alcohol was clearly taking effect, he thought.

“What’s going on?” he asked when she remained silent.

“I would have never guessed. You seem born for this life, for all of this.”

“That’s why I left, don’t you think? I could say the same about you. You didn’t seem like a Candor so far; now you’re talking too much,” Eric remarked, and Michelle’s smile faded, the playful atmosphere between them turning neutral again.

Michelle averted her gaze and looked down at the chasm beneath them.

Eric furrowed his brow, confused by the sudden shift in her mood. He didn’t understand why she had changed so quickly when she was the one who had first insulted him, calling him stupid. “Did the cat steal your tongue again, initiate? You know, it’s irritating when you don’t speak.”

“A not-so-subtle way of saying you like my voice?” Michelle asked, trying to suppress a foolish smile.

“No, it’s a way of saying it’s disrespectful not to respond to a superior when they speak to you. Very rude and immature.”

“I do respond. I just don’t need words to do it.”

At that moment, Eric set the notebook down and grabbed Michelle by the wrist, standing up abruptly. The jolt of his grip sent an electric shock down her body; she stood up with him, bewildered. But what confused her even more was the way he tightened his hold on her wrist.

In an instant, she found herself dangling over the edge of the chasm, Eric’s grip the only thing preventing her from falling.

Panic surged through her system.

She knew, she knew it all along—Eric hadn’t come to have a friendly chat. He hadn’t complimented her drawings, however subtly, out of kindness. He hadn’t joked with her, showing he wasn’t just the asshole everyone thought he was. He hadn’t started seeing her differently.

No.

He had done exactly what Michelle had feared, what she had imagined but was too stupid to notice.

She stared at him, seeing the glint in his eyes, that sadistic gleam that was so inherent to his nature. How stupid she felt for even thinking she had made the young leader smile, when she was utterly, damnably foolish.

Foolish, foolish, foolish!

“Don’t you want to beg me to pull you up?” he asked with mock amusement, as if he were teasing her. A part of Michelle wanted to comply, especially feeling his grip slipping ever so slowly.

But if Eric wanted to play this sadistic game, Michelle would change the rules to win.

She met his gaze, noting that sadistic smile—damn, it had its own kind of charm—and, trying to mask all her emotions, she replied.

“Let me go,” Michelle said, her voice firm despite the fear. Eric’s expression shifted instantly, becoming serious, the same one he wore every day.

“Let me go if you have the guts,” Michelle growled, clinging to a ledge with her feet as she swung.

Eric lurched forward, tightening his grip on Michelle as she pushed with her feet to force him to release her. It was a reckless move; for all she knew, Eric might have let her fall. But a dark part of her, the one that thrived on risk, knew the blonde was just toying with her.

And she was right.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eric roared, regaining his footing and hauling her up. He set her down on the platform, holding her against the wall with an intense grip. “What the hell is going through your head? Were you trying to kill us both?”

Eric was furious, his shouts echoing off the walls. It was clear anyone in the nearby corridors could hear. But Michelle, fueled by adrenaline and alcohol, couldn’t think clearly. As Eric’s rage crashed over her, she reveled in the thrill of having finally figured out how to play the game against him.

Eric was cruel, heartless, sadistic—but he wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He knew the initiates were his responsibility.

What Michelle didn’t realize was that Eric’s heart was pounding wildly, threatening to burst from his chest as the seconds ticked by. The moment he understood what she was doing, the world seemed to freeze. He blamed the orders, the looming threat from Jeanine if she discovered that Michelle had died on his watch, despite her own attempt to drag them both into the chasm.

But his anger quickly shifted to pure confusion when he saw her begin to smile, a nearly manic grin that revealed all thirty-two teeth. Under the neon lights, with that smile, and perhaps influenced by the alcohol that clouded his mind, she seemed almost perfect.

Michelle was something he didn’t quite understand, and now he saw why Four had warned him about her, despite her not having done anything particularly noteworthy to earn that title. He also understood Jeanine’s interest in her.

With heavy sighs, they locked eyes, both intoxicated and driven by intense desire. Eric knew it was a terrible idea, something he would regret the next day, but the alcohol urged him to indulge in the moment's craving.

Because the Michelle before him wasn’t the girl he saw every day in the faction. No, this was a different Michelle. A side he was desperate to explore, because damn it, he was curious about every facet of her. This was the kind of person he was drawn to.

Without thinking too much, he moved his hands from her shoulders to cradle her face and neck, lowering himself to press his lips against hers. Michelle was surprised but quickly made space for him, parting her lips to let him explore.

She felt as if she were floating on clouds, lifted from the ground and carried through the faction. Her head spun as Eric claimed the kiss, and she smiled when he became more assertive, intense, as if he possessed every molecule of her.

The uneven wall pressed into her back as Eric used his entire body to push her against it, trapping her with his frame. It felt as if he was enveloping her, and the alcohol-infused Michelle couldn’t complain, feeling the fire inside her intensify.

She attempted a daring move, her hands slowly traveling to his neck, then into his hair. When the guy didn’t pull away, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged.

The sound that escaped Eric’s mouth as he momentarily pulled away from the tug was both obscene and exhilarating, and Michelle couldn’t help but smile. However, her grin was short-lived as Eric returned with even more ferocity, holding her still with a hand on her throat.

Eric let his hand slide slowly from her neck down her side, caressing every curve until reaching her hip and slipping it beneath her butt. With a surprising strength, he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his torso. She gasped for breath as he pressed her against the wall, making her acutely aware of what she was causing.

Both felt their bodies igniting, two flames that, when intertwined, created a blaze—something beautiful to behold and destructive to everyone around them.

Michelle and Eric were a perfect match in that moment when their bodies intertwined, even if not completely, when their breaths became one, and their mouths left marks on each other’s skin. A connection formed.

Something that would pull them apart before binding them inseparably.

Something that might save them from the destruction awaiting them, because, on the other hand, you can’t pour gasoline on a fire without igniting an inferno.

And Eric was the gasoline, and Michelle was the fire.

Omg i need capther 4😭😭😭

you ask and you receive!

Knowledge pt.4

check the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Ppairing: Eric Coulter x Reader

Word count: 6k

"You've got quite a nasty bruise," remarked Sunny as she sat down beside her on the bed, later that evening after their first training session. "You're lucky it's not broken."

"It hurts," Michelle said, still holding the ice pack against her cheekbone. The icy sensation kept her awake. She had just woken up from a long nap after returning from training.

"Did you go to the infirmary?"

"No, Four checked it," Michelle recalled Four; he had stayed back to assess the damage, having seen the hard hit she took. He commended her agility and speed in dodging blows, encouraging her to continue improving those aspects of her technique.

But she lacked strength. If she had attacked Eric, she would have lost immediately.

"Hmm..." Sunny got up to climb onto her own bed, bidding her goodnight.

Michelle lay awake in bed, staring at the cot above hers, listening to the snores of some of her comrades. She wasn't sleepy at all.

She remained lying in bed for what felt like an eternity, waiting for her comrades to fall completely asleep. She didn't want any of them to rat her out for leaving the dormitory at night.

When she felt like everyone was asleep, she waited another five minutes to be sure; then, from under her pillow, she took out the photo of her and Anne, tracing her best friend's face with her fingertip.

It had only been a day since they parted ways, yet it felt like an eternity.

She quickly got up and grabbed her boots, not putting them on right away to avoid making noise. She opened the metal door very slowly and slipped out, donning her boots and covering herself against the cold with a leather jacket.

The corridors were completely empty that night, like the days to come. It had become Michelle's routine to sleep after training and then spend the entire night training on her own.

She found it easier to train when no one was there to bother her, and she was lucky not to find anyone else training at night, or she would have gotten into trouble in no time.

And she didn't want to be face to face with Eric again, who, after their sparring on the first day of initiation, had finally left her alone. It was as if she didn't exist anymore, and she was grateful for that. His attention was the last thing she wanted.

She didn't know why Eric had decided to stop tormenting her, making snide remarks about her incapability and weakness, and maybe it was better that way. Eric himself wasn't pleased with such an order, received from higher-ups.

He had to leave her alone, let her follow her path.

During that first week, Michelle found herself spending more and more time with Sunny, a ray of sunshine in that cold, dark place. Having a friend had helped her a lot, especially with her little aiming problem.

She had improved at shooting, finally managing to make critical hits on the target. Nothing extraordinary, but it was better than how she had started a week earlier.

However, that night someone joined her in the gym, scaring her to death when they spoke.

"Isn't it a bit late?" Lauren's voice made her jump, causing the Dauntless leader to chuckle. "You're always so lost in thought that you never notice me."

"You're quiet, it's different," Michelle replied, watching her approach, dressed in heavier clothes.

She didn't know whether to go back to training or grab her things and leave; she was just waiting for Lauren's reaction to know what to do. But when the woman started taking off the extra clothes, she was almost surprised.

Lauren approached her, now wearing only leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. "You're weak."

Michelle rolled her eyes, returning to hitting the punching bag. "I hadn't figured that out," she replied sarcastically, annoyed at how obvious it was.

She trained every afternoon and every night, yet she couldn't put on muscle; all her comrades were starting to get stronger, more defined, while she remained stagnant.

Lauren smiled before moving closer to the punching bag to look her in the face. "The fact is, you don't eat enough. For breakfast, you just have a cup of coffee, for lunch, you stay light because you're afraid of feeling sick in the afternoon, and often you skip dinner in the evening."

She kept hitting the bag, her knuckles and arms throbbing with pain, but she gritted her teeth and kept going. She thought about Lauren's words and had to admit she was right.

She slowed down her punches, eventually stopping to look at her, expecting some advice or something of the sort. Lauren immediately realized she had her full attention and smiled.

"You need to eat more, have more substantial meals, otherwise you burn more than you eat. You should gorge on meat, in short, eat as much as you can, and for breakfast, go for eggs maybe."

Michelle was used to eating little even when she was in her old faction; she and Anne preferred to grab food and move to a less crowded place, so they could carry less food with them.

She nodded, turning back to look at the punching bag and then at her knuckles, bleeding. The only reason the bag wasn't stained with blood was because of its black color.

"Come on, I'll show you how to wrap them properly," Lauren took her by the arm, dragging her towards one of the benches scattered around the gym.

As the woman got up to fetch the wraps, Michelle turned her head to gaze at the sky outside the windows, still as black as pitch. It must have been around four in the morning.

Lauren returned shortly after with a small white box and knelt in front of her; she took out a white bottle, cotton, and the wraps from it.

"It's going to sting," she warned before dipping the cotton into the bottle and dabbing it on Michelle's knuckles. Michelle gritted her teeth and closed her eyes; she felt her hands catch fire, but fortunately, the sensation didn't last long.

With great care, Lauren cleaned her knuckles with the disinfectant before taking the wraps and, showing her the most effective way to do it, wrapped them around her knuckles. As she handled the wraps, she glanced at her stealthily, wondering why they wanted her to be kept under observation.

She would never disobey orders, but she wondered why she, of all people, was important. Unlike her, Eric was anything but pleased with the orders, annoyed by the obligation to leave her alone.

She couldn't understand Eric's behavior; he hadn't always been like this, yet now his greatest pleasure was to make people around him miserable, showing off his superiority at every opportunity.

"There, all done," she whispered when she secured the wraps to ensure they wouldn't come loose during the day. Lauren stood up, dusting off her knees, and took a seat beside the girl, giving her a light shove. "Listen to my advice, eat more."

Michelle nodded again without taking her eyes off her wrapped knuckles.

She was grateful that the fights hadn't started yet; she wouldn't stand a chance against anyone. She was fast, able to avoid getting hit, but that wouldn't earn her any points.

Remembering something Lauren had said to her one of the first times they spoke, she turned to her, catching the woman a bit off guard with her ice-blue eyes. She had never noticed it before.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, I'm here for that."

"Will you help me become stronger?" Lauren was confused by that question, and Michelle clarified, "I can't win if I'm just on the defensive."

The woman smiled at her more than before and got up from the bench, heading towards the mat. "Come?"

Michelle followed her onto the mat, standing in front of her, waiting for instructions, but Lauren had something else in mind.

"Let's pretend we're fighting. I won't hit you. I just want to see what tactics you have and how you move." Lauren took a fighting stance, and Michelle immediately copied, bringing her hands up in front of her face.

They started circling the mat just as she had done with Eric, waiting for an attack, and soon after, Lauren lunged at her. Michelle noticed the slight lunge she made before actually throwing herself at her and dodged it.

They went on like this for a good ten minutes, with Lauren attacking and Michelle staying on the defensive until the leader called off the fight.

This time, Michelle didn't feel out of breath. Sure, she had gone easier than with Eric, but she was pleased to notice that at least her stamina had increased.

"You're good, but you're right. If you only stay on the defense, you won't win." Lauren observed her for a moment before creating a plan in her head. "Try this: you're quick, use it to your advantage to hit critical points like the throat or temple."

Lauren approached her. "Now I'll show you how to do it, and you have to try it on me, okay?"

Michelle nodded and watched Lauren's movements, trying to copy them immediately afterward. Unsuccessfully, however.

They continued to train, but she began to get frustrated finding herself on the ground over and over again. She huffed, getting up for the hundredth time and getting into position.

"Think of something that pisses you off or someone you want to smash in the face," the leader tried to encourage her.

Michelle closed her eyes and thought of something that annoyed her, so much so that she hated it. It didn't take long for Eric's image to appear in her mind, telling her she couldn't do it, that she was a liability and a waste of resources.

She opened her eyes and nodded to Lauren to start, the woman in front of her glad to see something different in her eyes.

Lauren lunged at her, and with speed, Michelle dodged the blow, attempting to strike back at her temple, almost succeeding. "Better, keep it up!" Lauren encouraged her.

This time, Michelle took the initiative, attacking Lauren's defense, trying to hit her throat, but only managed to strike her stomach, causing her to step back.

They circled on the mat for a bit before Lauren returned to the attack, landing blow after blow and only managing to hit Michelle's shoulder once. However, Michelle didn't give up and countered, hitting her abdomen and blocking her blows.

In a moment of distraction, though, Lauren managed to sweep her feet out from under her, tripping her.

Michelle stood there, tired and sweaty, trying to catch her breath.

"That's better. Once you eat more and build muscle, you could really become one of the best among the transfers," Lauren said, sitting down on the mat, exhausted from the workout.

It had been a while since she sparred with someone so fast. It was hard to block her blows, let alone land one unless she was distracted.

"Pay attention to your feet too, otherwise you'll end up on your ass," both girls laughed.

“Why could I be one of the best?” It was a legitimate question that had come to mind as soon as Lauren mentioned it, and Michelle straightened up to look her in the face, her muscles sore.

Lauren sighed, pushing her hair away from her face. “The guys I train with assume that just because they're Dauntless-born, they have a guaranteed spot here. But you have good technique, you're a natural force.”

Michelle blushed at the compliment and looked down, fiddling with her fingers.

“How are you doing in the rankings?” Lauren asked her.

"Tenth," Michelle said, turning to look at the board on the wall. Thankfully, her name wasn't below the red line; for now, they were only based on results from pistol training.

But it made her anxious to be so close to the red line, it was the last safety net, and one mistake would be enough to drop her below.

"Not bad, especially considering you started from scratch," Michelle shot her a glare; she knew those weren't good results, she didn't want to hear nonsense. Lauren raised her eyebrows.

They remained silent for a while, and when Michelle turned her head, she noticed the sky beginning to lighten. She got up from the mat to grab her things and head back to the dormitory for a well-deserved shower.

"It's been a pleasure. If you ever need to train again, you know who to ask," Lauren grabbed her belongings too and left before Michelle, closing the doors behind her. Michelle wondered what she was doing out at that hour dressed like that.

It wasn't her business, and as she had come to understand during that week, it was better not to pry into other people's affairs. She decided to take all the time in the world to return to the dormitory, not wanting to face everyone else just yet.

She decided to take a different route and found herself in one of the corridors overlooking the Pit. The shops were all still closed, naturally, but she noticed the tattoo parlor was already open, its lights on.

Deciding to pass by, she walked past the staircase that would lead her down to the Pit and then back to the dormitory. She stopped in front of it and saw movement inside, the same man who had helped her find the gym on the first day of initiation.

Michelle paused to look at the designs on display. She didn't realize the man was approaching the entrance until she saw him standing beside her out of the corner of her eye.

They silently observed the drawings for a while. "Do you like them?" he asked without shifting his gaze from the window.

"They're not my style, but they're nice," Michelle replied.

"Do you want to take a look inside?" the man moved towards the entrance, glancing back to see if she would follow. He smiled when she joined him after a second of hesitation. "I'm Tyson, by the way. We never properly introduced ourselves."

"Michelle."

"I know, I've heard about you," his tone was amused as he glanced at her, but Michelle seemed not to appreciate it. "Don't worry, only good things. Except for the punch you took from Eric on the first day."

Tyson laughed, and Michelle ignored him, moving away to approach one of the many columns where several designs were hung. They were beautiful; she got lost in observing them one by one, but only a few were to her liking.

She wasn't particularly fond of the designs themselves; she preferred geometric shapes, interweaving lines, or similar things.

Tyson joined her. "Do you want one? It's early, but I could make an exception for you."

Michelle looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Lauren and Tori weren't kidding; you're not much of a talker, huh?"

He started to walk away, somewhat disappointed that he couldn't seem to have a conversation with the girl, but her voice stopped him. "If I draw something for you, would you tattoo it?"

Her question was unusual; he had never had anyone want to tattoo something they had drawn before, but he nodded. "Do you have something in mind?"

It was her turn to nod. "I'll be back in a few days."

When she reached the dormitory, it was probably around seven in the morning. Most of her companions were already up and having breakfast, but when she went to take a shower, she encountered Tina trying to dry her tears in front of the mirror.

Michelle hesitated, contemplating if sneaking away before Tina noticed her would be a good idea, but the girl turned towards her, looking at her. 

Tina had red and swollen eyes, her face twisted in a sad expression, and she sniffled occasionally. Saying that Michelle felt uncomfortable would be an understatement.

It was embarrassing, and she decided to move towards the showers, hoping to avoid the impending conversation, but she didn't have time to undress and turn on the water before Tina's voice distracted her.

"What am I doing wrong?" her voice was interrupted by sobs and crying. Michelle leaned her head against the shower door before turning towards her, trying to figure out what she wanted her to do.

"I do, I do everything for him! And he treats me like this!" she started crying again, and feeling guilty, Michelle approached. Tina quickly hugged her and cried on her shoulder.

Michelle stood still for several minutes before someone else entered the bathroom, luckily, it was Chloe. The girl always had the need to show off and help anyone in trouble to improve her image, and things hadn't changed at all.

When she saw Tina in tears, she reached her, forcefully pushing Michelle aside. "What did you do?" she accused, turning towards her and stroking Tina's hair.

"It's not her fault," Tina managed to say through tears.

Michelle didn't stay to watch the scene unfold and immediately stepped under the hot water jet, cursing as she remembered the wraps. She removed them and winced as the sensation of the water droplets hit the open wounds. It wasn't pleasant.

Fortunately, Michelle heard Tina's complaints fade away from the bathroom, indicating she would have the chance to get ready in peace.

She wished she could stay under the hot water jet for hours, but she remembered Lauren's advice to have a good breakfast, so she forced herself to step out and get ready. She put on simple black sweatpants, comfortable shoes, and a hoodie, knowing that today they would start hand-to-hand combat.

She braided her hair into two loose braids and hurried out of the dormitory, reaching the cafeteria in a few minutes. Every muscle in her body was on fire as she tried not to bump into anyone while wrapping her knuckles in motion. They were still bleeding, and she didn't want to mess around, especially not while eating with the smell of blood in the air.

When she arrived at the cafeteria, she scanned the room for Sunny and soon spotted her, sitting with Four, Max, and another initiate she had never talked to before. She joined them and took a seat next to her friend, who greeted her with a big hug.

"There you are! I was wondering where you were; you weren't anywhere when I woke up," her cheerful tone made Michelle smile as she grabbed scrambled eggs and, of course, her usual cup of coffee.

Four looked up upon hearing Sunny and glanced at her friend next to her, confused, wondering where she was, and especially why she was out of the dormitory when it wasn't allowed. He shrugged it off, maybe he had misunderstood.

He didn't stay long to listen to the guys' conversation and grabbed his things to head to the training quarters, finding Eric already there. He was standing in front of the whiteboard, engrossed in something.

Eric slightly turned his head upon earing Four entering, then returned his gaze to the whiteboard. "They're odd, one won't be fighting today," Eric said simply when Four joined him, maintaining a certain distance.

That made Eric smile.

Four glanced over the pairs Eric had created, and when he reached the end, he saw Michelle's name alone. He furrowed his brows and turned to Eric. "Why Michelle? There are initiates worse than her."

"Because she's not capable, she lacks strength, and the sooner she fights, the sooner she'll end up below the red line, which the higher-ups don't want, and you know that well, Four," his tone was serious as he spoke without looking at him, standing straight, still irritated by the orders that had been strictly given to the two of them, Lauren, and Max.

"No, I don't know. I've seen less capable people than her, and we both have seen how capable she is," he insisted.

Eric turned towards him, a displeased smirk on his face as he took a step closer. He was slightly taller, just enough to assert dominance. "Because I've decided so, don't contradict me, Four."

When Michelle and Sunny reached the quarters, they were surprised to see some of their companions already there, positioned in front of the blackboard near the mats.

"They must be the pairs, come on!" Sunny grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her in front of the blackboard, and indeed, she was right; there were the pairs for the day.

Arlo - Connor Patrick - Thomas Bowie - Andy Chloe - Max Tina - Sunny Michelle -

Michelle?

Furrowing her brows, Michelle turned to find Four, ignoring Tina's arrival; she walked away from the group to join him on one of the benches, but before he even looked up, he responded.

"It wasn't my choice," he said.

"It was mine," Eric's icy voice sent shivers down Michelle's spine, and she immediately stiffened. "Consider it a favor. Now, join the other initiates."

Turning to look at him, she clenched her fists, imagining punching him in the nose. Still tense, she nodded and walked towards her companions, trying to ignore the anger his presence alone stirred within her.

He was insolent, arrogant, and above all, he was a jerk.

She was relieved to know it wasn't just her perception; Tyson had told her some stories about the young leader when he was an initiate as she spent the morning in his shop. Tyson's company was one she was starting to appreciate more and more as the days passed.

"So? You're not fighting?" Max asked when she took a seat among them, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face.

She shook her head.

"How come?" Max smiled, and Michelle wished she could wipe that smirk off his face; his inability to be serious for five minutes straight was exhausting.

"I fight tomorrow, we're odd," Michelle simply replied, taking a seat on the floor, ready to endure hours of combat without being able to participate.

On one hand, she was grateful; she had the opportunity to study the fighting style of all her companions, which would help her a lot when it was her turn. But the fact that she, of all people, had been chosen to sit out among them gnawed at her.

It hadn't been Four's decision, but Eric's.

Was it another way of telling her she was incapable? Did she really suck that much? Didn't she deserve to be there with them? Was she not up to their standards?

The more she thought about it, the more she felt tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. But she couldn't wallow in self-pity, not with Chloe staring at her from across the mat with an air of superiority.

She would prove to everyone that that was her place. Not theirs.

"Arlo and Connor! On the mat!" Eric shouted, grabbing the attention of the two boys.

They took their places on the mat facing each other, and Arlo seemed much more prepared than Connor; he had a confident air and a stance ready to attack. Although his muscles weren't well-defined, Michelle could see them as he brought his hands up to his face.

Connor, on the other hand, seemed almost awkward in front of him, his cocky and impertinent demeanor from when he was with his little group of friends nowhere to be seen. Michelle smiled at seeing him struggle.

"Begin!" Four signaled the start of the match, and the two boys began circling the mat, waiting for one of them to strike first.

They went on for a good five minutes, and Eric's expression became increasingly bored and frustrated, playing with the piercing on his lip as if to entertain himself somehow.

Michelle had to admit that small action was quite attractive.

When she refocused her attention on her companions after Sunny nudge her with her elbow, she saw Arlo take the first step, closing the distance between them. This caused Connor to retreat and go on the defensive.

"We're not at the playground, let's go!" Eric huffed, and the two boys glanced at him for a split second before turning their attention back to each other.

Arlo closed his eyes for a fraction of a second before reopening them and landing a blow to Connor's face, which he barely parried by bringing his arms up to shield himself. They began grappling, with Arlo on the offensive and Connor on the defensive.

Arlo lunged at him, trying to bring him down, but Connor managed to grab him around the waist and, despite being shorter, he managed to hurl him across the mat.

"Go, Connor!" Chloe cheered, clapping her hands.

"Keep it up!" Patrik chimed in.

Michelle watched them, still somewhat envious that she had never been able to be friends with them when they were kids. But that didn't matter now; she would prove herself to be better than them.

"You'll regret this," Arlo gritted his teeth, getting back up and charging at Connor.

They resumed exchanging punches, occasionally attempting to take each other down without success. Arlo was stronger and taller, but Connor seemed to have better balance and was thinking more with his head than with his fists.

They remained on the mat for half an hour, and just when everyone thought the match would go on indefinitely, Arlo began ruthlessly attacking his opponent after taking a nasty right hook to the face.

He grabbed Connor's head from behind his neck, forcefully bringing it down to bash against his knee. Connor's nose immediately started bleeding, and he brought his hands to his face to try to stem the flow of blood, but Arlo showed no mercy.

He continued to strike wherever he could, targeting the protected face, stomach, and sides. Anywhere he could land a blow.

"Enough! I surrender!" Connor exclaimed, falling awkwardly to the ground after a vicious punch to his left temple.

Michelle observed his fragile figure curled up on the mat, staining it with blood from his undoubtedly broken nose; then, she shifted her gaze to Arlo, standing next to him, looking down at Connor with empty eyes. He was panting, his face flushed as he watched drops of sweat fall onto the mat.

"What a mess," Michelle whispered, and Sunny turned to look at her, tearing her eyes away from the battered boy in front of her.

"Yeah, I didn't think they'd make us fight to this extent."

"No, I mean the mat," Michelle emphasized, realizing that her friend had interpreted her statement differently.

"Do we have to fight like that too?" Tina, who had sat down next to Michelle, leaned forward to look at Sunny, waiting for an answer. The brunette shrugged.

Michelle thought about how stupid Tina had been to fill herself with earrings and get two piercings at that stage, the only physical one among the three. She would find herself receiving punches from Sunny in a couple of hours, and the girl wasn't stupid; it was obvious that she would target those sensitive areas.

Two Dauntless boys carried Connor to the infirmary. He hadn't lost consciousness, but the blow to his temple had been strong enough to rob him of his balance for a while.

The next two fighters got on the mat without waiting for someone to call them, and only now did Michelle realize what her friend was talking about. Patrik was really big.

In that short week, he had managed to put on an impressive amount of muscle, and Thomas swallowed nervously. Despite this, he showed confidence.

"Begin!" Eric exclaimed, starting to walk around the mat.

Michelle thought that this fight would also last half an hour like the previous one, but Patrik wasted no time and attacked Thomas without giving him a chance to react. He was fast and strong.

Thomas took blows to the throat, making him gasp for breath and stagger. Patrik grabbed him by the arm to pull him closer, elbowing him in the nose, causing more blood to drip onto the mat.

With his left foot, he made him fall and got on top of him, blocking every attempt at defense. Patrik started hitting him in the face, punch after punch, until Thomas stopped trying to defend himself, leaving everyone with a lump in their throats.

"Why doesn't he stop it?" Tina whispered, and Michelle turned to look for Four, but when she didn't see him, she looked for Eric.

What she saw didn't sit well with her at all. Eric was enjoying himself.

"Now that's enough," his voice was almost cheerful, light, very different from before when Connor had withdrawn from the fight.

Four arrived from behind them and bent down to help Thomas, his face disfigured due to swelling and blood, but surprisingly the boy refused assistance and, staggering a bit, got up and headed towards the infirmary on his own.

"Try not to fall into the abyss!" Eric teased, observing Thomas's unstable figure as he moved away from the scene.

"What a jerk," someone whispered in her ear.

"Indeed," Michelle replied to the unfamiliar voice and saw the boy who had sat with them at breakfast. She couldn't remember his name, it was something like Brownie though.

The aforementioned boy got up and got on the mat, soon joined by another boy whom she had never spoken to.

"Who's that?" Michelle asked Sunny.

Sunny turned to her friend, then back to the two boys. "Oh, I think it's Andy? If I'm not mistaken, he was an Erudite with me."

"You don't remember if he was with you?" Tina chimed in.

Sunny shrugged. "I think so, but he was always with the Dauntless. He always hung out with them at school, and if you notice, during meals he's always sitting with them."

"Hmm."

"When you're ready," Four initiated yet another fight, and this time Andy wasted no time. They were both lean but with some muscle, the only physical difference being that Bowie perhaps had about twenty centimeters more than his opponent.

Andy was skilled, but one thing Michelle noticed was that he looked at the point he wanted to hit before striking. However, Bowie seemed unable to grasp his strategy and showed great clumsiness in trying to block the attacks.

She noticed the difference between the first two fights, especially the second one, and this one; here, they seemed like two boys training, fighting against each other without exaggeration, whereas before it seemed like if Eric hadn't ended the fight, one of them would have ended up dead.

Bowie managed to block some blows and even land one himself, but with a quick move, Andy managed to make him lose balance, and when he fell, he hit his head hard on the ground.

"Ow," the boys standing still watching the fight exclaimed.

Bowie grabbed his head with his hands, rolling onto his side. He cursed in pain, and Andy, still standing, turned to look at Eric behind him; the blond nodded at him.

Andy turned back and with a kick to the temple, he knocked out his opponent, celebrating his victory as some of his Erudite friends applauded for him.

Two more Dauntless carried away his limp body. Michelle watched the boy's body being taken away, realizing only now that she would end up below the red line by force, probably becoming the twenty-second with zero points.

Her hands began to tremble at the thought of having to really give her all to make it to the top; initially, she didn't think it would be too difficult, she could easily win by following Lauren and Four's advice, but her fellow initiates were brutal.

She feared the moment when she would have to face Patrik or Arlo, who seemed the most brutal.

She was fast, but their strength was too much to ignore.

"Max, Chloe, on the mat!"

Chloe arrived confident, chest out and head held high, and Michelle hoped with all her might that she would get her ass kicked, and so it was. She managed to put up a good fight against Max, knowing where to strike while the boy acted on instinct, blindly.

But when Max managed to grab her, it was her end.

Chloe got up unsteadily, covering her face, crying. Max's punches had been strong, too strong against her delicate face, and Michelle couldn't hide a satisfied smirk seeing the girl's disfigured face.

It was time for the final showdown, almost three hours after the training began, and it was Sunny's turn to take her place on the mat.

"Good luck," Michelle said, watching her friend rise, who turned to smile at her.

Tina's smile, however, vanished when she realized she would actually have to fight against a friend. "Ready?" she asked.

Sunny didn't answer, waiting for the start of the match. Eric ordered them to begin, and Sunny started circling.

Tina looked worried, her movements uncertain. With each move Sunny made, Tina went on the defensive, ready to block any blow. Sunny struck first, and her opponent covered her face, leaving her abdomen exposed.

And Sunny struck right there.

Tina doubled over, screaming, and soon the gray shirt she was wearing began to darken around the belly button area; she lifted the shirt, exposing the belly button piercing, which was bleeding.

She looked at Sunny with a hurt expression. "What the hell!"

"Stop playing around!" Eric grumbled, annoyed, watching the two girls. Sunny briefly turned to look at the young leader, and Tina took the opportunity to throw a punch.

Sunny recoiled immediately and began hitting Tina, who was too weak to defend herself. She had no defense technique, just raising her hands in front of her face, leaving all other areas exposed, and Sunny repeatedly hit her left ear.

The girl fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Sunny stepped back, continuing to hop around to stay ready in case the girl got back up, but Tina seemed to show no signs of getting up.

Sunny relaxed, lowering her fists and looking at Four, who had moved to her side. "What should I do?" she asked him.

Four sighed and indicated to Max, who was watching the scene angrily, to help him lift Tina up.

"The fight isn't over," Eric said, remaining where he was, his arms as usual crossed over his chest.

Michelle hated to agree with him, but what had just happened couldn't be considered a fight; a couple of punches, and it was over?

"Don't you think it's time to end it?" Four said through clenched teeth as he gently lifted the girl.

"If she can't get up on her own, she can consider herself out of the initiation."

"It's not fair!" Max exclaimed loudly, receiving a deadly glare from Eric, who laughed in his face.

"Not fair?" he laughed. "Your little friend can't make sensible choices, and you think it's fair to let her win?"

"No, but-"

"No buts!" When Eric shouted, everyone fell silent, even the other initiates on the other side stopped to watch the scene from afar. "Either she gets up, or she's out. Her choice."

Eric remained impassive.

Four let go of Tina's arm, making sure she didn't fall to the ground badly, and walked away from the scene. Even Max, with much reluctance, stepped away from the mat.

Tina, still on the ground, sobbed. She tried to pull herself up, very slowly, and Sunny watched, waiting to see what to do.

When she got back on her feet, she wiped away her tears with her sleeve and got back into an attacking position. She lunged at Sunny, but Sunny blocked her, hitting her again on the ear where she had already made her earrings bleed.

Tina fell onto the mat, bringing an end to the fight.