When Is The Chapter 8 Coming Out? I Had Binge Read The Whole Series And I'm HOOKED

When is the chapter 8 coming out? I had binge read the whole series and I'm HOOKED 😭😭

Hi love! Thank you, i’m so happy y’all are enjoying this fic😭😭❤️

Anyway, i’ve just finished school and started working for the summer, but i PROMISE you i will start to update again as soon as possible! If you’re interested im also publishing this fic on Ao3

Request are open!

I have never written with requests before, so please be lenient with me!

From today on, I'm open to requests, so I'll leave you below the fandoms I write for. Also, I wanted to inform you that I write for characters I don't know, but it might take me a little longer as I need to research them!

Fandom i write for:

Twilight

Marvel

Harry Potter/Marauders

Divergent

Fandom i know:

Hunger Games

Resident Evil

The Walking Dead

Criminal Minds

Chicago Med

Maze Runner

And many more!

Some clarification about my blog

Welcome to my blog! If you don't follow me on Ao3, I recommend doing so because the one-shots published here will be exclusive scenes of the fanfiction that i write there!

I started reading the Negan story on ao3 but I’m only a guest so can’t comment.

But I just wanted to say how much I loved it! The idea of an older grimes child added to the story is always so interesting, especially at the beginning with Shane and Lori and everything.

Personally I also found it kinda messed up with the whole Shane & Lori thing so I loved seeing Delilah react like that too lol

I’m really curious what’s gonna happen with this story and how things with Negan will eventually be! Will definitely be over on ao3 reading every chapter :)

thank you love <3 i had this story in my draft for months and idk why, but i missed my negan ear and that's why i decided to continue the story! anyway, you will probably like me less when you will keep reading the story becausa yk, things happens ;)

Knowledge pt.10

check here for the orther 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: 5.5k

Michelle struggled to piece together the hazy fragments of the previous night while the pain in her head intensified. Her disoriented state made it difficult to grasp the reality of her situation. When she finally dragged herself out of bed and ventured to the cafeteria, the noise and chaos only exacerbated her discomfort.

Her eyes scanned the bustling room for Sunny, hoping for a familiar face amidst the clamor. She found Sunny at a table, surrounded by others she vaguely recognized. As Michelle approached, she prepared herself for the disapproval she anticipated. Instead, Sunny greeted her with a knowing smile, which only deepened Michelle's confusion.

The table’s occupants included Four, who appeared absorbed in a conversation with a girl about something related to the Wall. Bowie, with his tired eyes and somber expression, sat beside him. To Michelle’s surprise, a familiar face she couldn’t quite place joined her at the table.

“Good morning! The sun is shining, and I heard you finally woke up,” the guy said cheerfully, giving Michelle a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t torment her,” Tyson said, taking a seat to her left and offering a polite greeting to his companions. “Rough night, huh? Where did you disappear to after a certain point, darling?”

Michelle was about to respond when Sunny interrupted. “So, you came to the party? I didn’t see you.”

“Yes, that might be my fault, sweetheart,” he said, leaning in closer and throwing an arm around Michelle’s shoulders. “I found our dear friend here trying to sneak away without even stepping foot into the party. Drink water, lots of it. It’ll help with the headache.”

Sunny’s smirk widened as she watched Michelle, who now felt an uncomfortable sense of self-consciousness. The combination of her headache and the attention made her increasingly uneasy. “What?” she croaked, her voice still rough from sleep.

“I wanted to fill you in on what you missed last night,” the guy continued. “We thought you had either hidden away in the dorms or, worse, in the gym. But it seems you had an equally interesting evening.”

At those words, the guy to her right, who had been chewing on his eggs, turned to her. As he realized what Sunny was referring to, he almost choked on his food, unable to suppress his laughter.

Michelle glanced between Sunny and the others, her confusion growing. “What? What’s going on?” she demanded, her voice rising in frustration.

Sunny’s grin was now almost playful. “Oh, just some fun details about the party and your eventful evening,” she said cryptically.

Michelle’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she tried to piece together what had transpired. As the fragments of memory began to surface, she hoped that the information she’d missed could help her make sense of the bewildering situation she found herself in.

Tyson's chuckle only added to Michelle's growing sense of dread. "Well, let’s just say whoever you spent the night with left a mark," he said with a smirk. As Michelle’s confusion deepened, Tyson pointed to a spot on her neck, which seemed to radiate an inexplicable sensitivity. "Your prince charming left a nice hickey here and here."

"And you told me there wasn’t anyone interesting, yet…" Sunny teased, her tone light but her gaze scrutinizing. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Sunny," she added, turning to the two men beside her.

"Tyson."

"Axl," the man who had been with her the night before replied. Michelle’s memory of him began to crystallize, but it was still clouded by the haze of her recollections.

At that moment, her focus shifted from introductions to the sudden awareness of the marks on her neck. Her hands flew to the area, and she tried to piece together what had happened after their intense kissing session. The realization that the previous night had been more real than she had initially thought hit her with an unsettling force. 

She scanned the cafeteria discreetly, hoping to spot the person in question, but he was nowhere to be seen. The tension in her chest tightened.

"Looking for someone?" Four’s voice cut through her thoughts, causing her to jump. The table fell silent, and Michelle’s gaze met his. The intensity in his ocean-blue eyes made her feel as though he was piercing through her defenses, seeing every hidden thought and fear.

Four knew. And he was judging her.

"Uh, I’d say that’s exactly it. Our Michelle is looking for her knight from last night," the girl’s playful comment did little to ease the tension. "Everything okay?"

Four’s penetrating stare felt like an accusation. It was as if he believed she had committed a grave mistake. "I warned you. Now it’s up to you," he said cryptically before standing and leaving the cafeteria with what Michelle assumed was Lauren.

The weight of Four’s words sank in like a crushing wave. Michelle’s heart raced. "What’s he talking about?"

Sunny’s expression shifted to one of concern as the atmosphere in the room grew dense, almost suffocating. It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the cafeteria with Four’s departure, leaving Michelle gasping for breath.

"Nothing. He was referring to nothing," Michelle said quickly, trying to mask her worry. She grabbed a serving of scrambled eggs and placed them on her plate, attempting to divert attention. "What did you want to tell me?"

Sunny’s confused and worried expression vanished almost instantly, replaced by a look of keen interest. Her eyes sparkled as she leaned forward, resting on her elbows. “Don’t you notice anyone missing here at the table?”

Michelle looked around, her gaze searching for the missing individuals, but she didn’t spot anyone out of the ordinary. When she turned back to Sunny, the latter rolled her eyes with a hint of impatience. “Tina and Max.”

Michelle glanced around again, realizing with a start that Tina and Max were indeed absent. They weren’t sitting at any of the nearby tables, nor did she recall seeing them in the dorms.

“Are they the ones from last night?” Axl asked, nodding toward Sunny. Sunny confirmed with a nod.

But Michelle’s focus was abruptly shifted when the cafeteria fell silent. The sound of boots confidently marching across the room cut through the low hum of conversation, drawing everyone’s attention.

She turned to see Eric walking in, and what she saw made her breath catch in her throat. Eric Coulter was sporting a black eye and a split lip; his usually neat blonde hair was now disheveled, and dark circles marked his eyes. The sight of him was more intimidating than usual, not in the way that stirred strange sensations within her but in a way that demanded respect and silence.

He exuded a deadly aura.

“Yes, exactly them. Michelle, hey!” Sunny snapped her fingers in front of Michelle’s face, pulling her out of her stunned silence. “That was a spoiler, by the way.”

“What happened?” Michelle asked in a whisper, trying to stay discreet amid the tension in the cafeteria.

“Last night, after you left, your companion started a fight with one of the guys because, apparently, the guy looked at him the wrong way,” Tyson explained, his tone light but serious.

Axl chuckled. “He was completely hammered. You could smell the alcohol on him from a mile away.”

“So basically, after Eric came back, he and Four tried to break up the fight because things were getting out of hand. But Max? Max wasn’t satisfied with just getting beaten up; he lunged at Eric when Eric tried to pull him away, and that led to a full-blown fight between the two,” Sunny continued, her voice low.

“Max didn’t stand a chance. He was knocked out within the first minute, and if it hadn’t been for Eric’s friends holding him back, Max would’ve ended up dead on the Pit floor,” Sunny said, casting a quick glance at Bowie, who still looked troubled. “They ended up kicking Max out of the faction, making him factionless. Tina tried to stay behind, begging the leaders to let him stay, but it was no use.”

“It was entertaining, I’ll admit,” Axl said with a smirk. “But I’ve got to head out. Inspections in twenty minutes.” He gave Tyson a friendly pat on the shoulder and left, his seat now vacant.

Sunny took the opportunity to move closer to Michelle, sliding into the seat Axl had vacated. She rested her head on Michelle’s shoulder, her demeanor a mix of comfort and curiosity.

“So now they’re both factionless,” Tyson said, his gaze shifting from Eric to the two girls. “One thing I’ve learned since I’ve been here, long before Eric arrived, is that you shouldn’t get involved with him.”

Michelle fiddled with her food, her thoughts swirling. She felt a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “I don’t like him.”

“Nobody likes Eric, sweetheart,” Tyson quipped with a hint of humor.

“But you’re his friend,” Michelle said abruptly, her tone carrying an edge of seriousness.

Tyson seemed to consider her words for a moment before responding with a gentle smile. “Nobody is friends with Eric. We tolerate each other. He’s useful to have around and not stupid—he’s just hotheaded and a lot worse in many ways. His company can be pleasant, but no one considers him a true friend,” he said, glancing over at Eric. “No one has any real relationships with him. Not even Mia. That girl has been chasing after him since she arrived. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day we find her at the bottom of the chasm.”

Michelle followed Tyson’s gaze, observing Eric with a new sense of wariness. The faint bruises on his face only added to his intimidating presence.

“I don’t understand,” Sunny said, shaking her head as she looked at Tyson. “How does he have all this power? Why?”

Tyson sighed, a subtle hint of something deeper in his expression. “Eric is a soldier, and soldiers are liked by those in power,” he said, his words carrying a weight that Michelle and Sunny couldn’t fully grasp.

The days drifted by, leading up to the second phase of initiation, a module Four had warned would be the toughest. Michelle found herself lost in thought, unable to escape the disquiet that had settled over her.

No matter where she was—whether clutching a photograph of Anne in her dorm, standing on the faction's rooftop in the rain, or working out in the gym at night—Eric's absence was a constant weight on her mind. He hadn’t so much as glanced her way since that night, and perhaps that was for the best. Four and Tyson were right: Eric was dangerous. His cruel game of intimidation and the near-violent incident with Max had shown her just how perilous his influence could be.

Eric’s demeanor had shifted noticeably. The mocking smirks and casual arrogance had faded, replaced by a rigid, authoritarian presence. As the start of the second module approached, he seemed increasingly distant, spending less time within the faction.

Despite her efforts to avoid him, Michelle couldn’t help but search for Eric whenever she had the chance. Sunny, ever observant, noticed Michelle’s growing preoccupation.

One evening, as Michelle prepared to head to the gym, Sunny stopped her at the door.

“Would you tell me if something was bothering you?” Sunny’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. Michelle glanced at her, her concern evident, and nodded, pretending not to notice the full weight of Sunny’s gaze.

The corridors had grown colder with the onset of winter, and Michelle wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. It had been a while since she’d had a moment alone, a chance to lose herself in silence.

Upon reaching the gym doors, Michelle heard the muffled sounds of someone training. Peering inside, she saw Lauren, engrossed in her workout on one of the punching bags. Lauren’s expression hardened as she caught sight of Michelle, and without a word, she turned her back, focusing on a bag on the far side of the room. It was evident that the once-cordial relationship between them had soured.

Confused and feeling uncertain, Michelle decided to focus on her own workout, leaving Lauren to her space. But as Michelle pounded the bag, she felt Lauren’s gaze fixed on her back. The distraction was unwelcome, particularly with the stress of the upcoming initiation, Tyson’s warnings, and Eric’s unsettling behavior weighing heavily on her.

After a few minutes, Lauren cleared her throat. “I know Four warned you, but please be careful with Eric. He’s not someone you want to get involved with.”

Michelle stopped abruptly and turned to face Lauren, her confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

Lauren sighed, rubbing her face in frustration. “Four saw you the other night when Eric was following you. He decided to investigate and told me about it. I just want you to be aware.”

“It was a mistake,” Michelle interjected, her voice firm as she tried to deflect the concern.

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Michelle hesitated, then admitted, “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted to understand him better. It’s not like I wanted to get involved with Eric.”

Lauren’s expression softened, though worry remained. “Understanding him isn’t worth risking yourself. Eric’s reputation isn’t just because he’s a jerk or a bully. There’s something darker, more dangerous about him.”

Michelle sighed as she slipped on her jacket, acknowledging that her plans for a workout had been derailed. Instead, she headed towards the roof, where she could be alone with her thoughts. The idea of explaining her actions to Lauren felt too personal, too intimate. She wasn’t ready to share the details of what had happened, even though Lauren’s support was unwavering.

Despite her intent to be alone, Lauren was not easily deterred. She grabbed her belongings and followed Michelle up to the rooftop. "If you know, why did you do it?" Lauren’s voice carried a mixture of concern and frustration.

Michelle hesitated, struggling with her thoughts. Eric had made the first move, but if she were honest, the alcohol had played its part, blurring her judgment and amplifying the electric charge between them. But acknowledging that felt like making excuses.

When Michelle remained silent, Lauren grabbed her wrist, only to have Michelle shrug her off. “Michelle… it’s for your own good.”

“I already said it was a mistake,” Michelle retorted, her voice sharp as she leaned against the rooftop railing. “It won’t happen again.”

Lauren’s expression softened, and she stepped back slightly but remained nearby. “I hope so. You have potential; it would be a shame to waste it on someone like him.” They fell into a contemplative silence, gazing out at the city and the distant outlines of the other factions, savoring the quiet of the night.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Lauren’s question cut through the silence, sending a shiver down Michelle’s spine. The mention of the second phase of initiation triggered a wave of déjà vu. Michelle turned to Lauren with a pained expression.

“For— for the second phase?” Lauren asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty at Michelle’s reaction.

Michelle swallowed hard, her eyes brimming with tears as the weight of her emotions hit her. She took deep breaths, trying to steady herself before responding.

“No, how could I be?” The words felt heavy, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. The thought of her last moments with her best friend brought a pang to her heart. She wondered about Anne—where she was now, how she was faring, and what she was doing.

Michelle and Lauren spent the remainder of the night on the rooftop, waiting in silence for the first light of dawn. The conversations and warnings from Four, Lauren, and Tyson felt like pieces of a larger puzzle that Michelle struggled to piece together. She knew she had to stay clear of Eric, despite the dangerous allure he presented. It was clear that her safety was at stake, and she needed to tread carefully.

As dawn broke, all the initiates were summoned to a sterile room. The space was stark and unwelcoming, with chairs lined up against the walls, each one designated for an initiate. Two doors stood at the far end of the room, marking the beginning of what promised to be a grueling day. Michelle took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead, knowing that the challenges of the second phase were about to unfold.

Four entered the room after them, his authoritative presence commanding attention as the initiates settled into their seats. “Welcome to the second module, the mental phase. It’s a departure from the physical trials you’ve faced so far, and it will test you in ways you don’t expect. This is the most exhausting part of the initiation, even though it’s not physical.”

He moved to stand in front of one of the two doors. “We have divided you into two groups to expedite the process.”

At that moment, the door across the room swung open to reveal Eric. “You will confront your deepest fears in the shortest time possible. You will be scored as in the first module, and those who fall below the red line will be eliminated.”

Eric’s gaze swept over the room with an intimidating intensity. “Only a few of you will make it into the faction. Another ten will be excluded. There is no room for error.”

Four positioned himself in front of the remaining door, pulling out two slips of paper from his pocket. He handed one to Eric, who read it aloud.

“Sunny.”

“Marcus,” Eric followed, calling out a boy Michelle recognized as one of the Dauntless-born, who entered the room after the blonde.

An uneasy silence settled over the room as the initiates awaited their turns. Some paced nervously, while others closed their eyes, trying to find calm. Michelle found herself caught between these two reactions, struggling to mask her own anxiety. She glanced at the clock on the wall, willing time to move faster.

Sunny emerged less than ten minutes later, her face etched with a look of near terror. Michelle started to approach her friend, but Sunny walked past her as if she were invisible, exiting the room without a word.

“Angela,” Four called out next.

Michelle’s concern for Sunny deepened, wondering what could have caused her friend to look so haunted. She felt a strong urge to follow her but decided against it, choosing instead to wait for her own turn and to find Sunny later.

After another fifteen minutes, the second door opened, revealing Marcus, who was assisted out by two Dauntless members. He looked as if he had seen a ghost—pale as porcelain, cheeks wet with tears, eyes red and vacant, and hands trembling uncontrollably.

“Connor,” Four called.

The boy rose with encouragement from his friends, and Michelle leaned her head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling to calm her nerves.

As time dragged on, Michelle pondered what her own fears might be, how she would confront them, and what she might see. The constant opening and closing of the doors, along with the shifting emotions of the initiates, did little to ease her anxiety.

By now, only a few initiates remained in the room, including Michelle—just one other girl and the remaining five boys, none of whom she knew well.

This time, both doors opened simultaneously, allowing the last two initiates to exit, visibly shaken. Michelle strangely hoped to be called next to end the torturous wait, but her name was not called again.

Two hours had passed since she last moved, her muscles aching from sitting in the hard wooden chair. Michelle glanced at the clock and, within five minutes, saw the door to Eric’s room open once more. This time, the boy who entered did not come out. Michelle looked up as Eric, still focused on the slip of paper in his hand, called her name.

“Michelle.”

Before she could react, he turned back into the room.

With great caution, Michelle stood up and entered the room with slow, deliberate steps, closing the door behind her. The room was stark and clinical, its white walls reminiscent of a laboratory. At the center was an armchair with the same apparatus she had seen during the Aptitude Test.

Eric was hunched over a computer next to the chair. The tension between them was palpable, a heavy silence hanging in the air. Michelle bit the inside of her cheek and moved forward, reluctantly taking a seat in the uncomfortable chair, ready to endure whatever came next.

The silence, usually something Michelle cherished, felt oppressive and unnerving now. She wished for any sound, even an insult, to break the suffocating quiet.

“It’s just like the Aptitude Test,” Eric said coldly, his fingers cold as they connected the wires to her temples, sending a series of small electric shocks through her skin.

He picked up a syringe from the table, giving it a slight shake. “Instead of drinking, we’ll inject the serum this time.” He grasped her wrist to steady her arm, and Michelle had to look away as the needle pierced her skin.

“Fear of needles? Pathetic,” he murmured as he withdrew the needle.

The serum felt cold, almost icy, and left a numbing sensation in her arm. But that feeling quickly faded as Michelle’s vision blurred, her consciousness slipping away under the serum’s effects.

When she opened her eyes again, her heart skipped a beat. She was disoriented, unsure of where she was. Struggling to stand, her legs trembled beneath her.

The room around her was cloaked in darkness so complete that she could barely make out her surroundings. A rustling sound behind her made her jump, and she let out a small scream. Instinctively, she moved backward and bumped into what she assumed was a desk.

Michelle tried to steady her breathing, her heart pounding with fear. The darkness seemed alive, and another noise from a corner of the room made her hyperventilate. There was something, or someone, with her in the room.

Desperate, she began to search the desk, her hands scrambling over every surface until she felt something round and short. She fumbled for a switch, and the flashlight flickered on weakly.

The light revealed an office-like setting, but its weak beam was almost useless. Michelle tried to adjust the switch, but it was no use. “Damn it!” she shouted in frustration.

Stepping out of the office, she found herself in a long, dark corridor. Her heart raced, each echo of her footsteps amplified in the oppressive silence. The corridor stretched out endlessly, and she could feel the weight of her isolation pressing down on her.

She had to move forward, driven by a mix of fear and determination. Each step felt heavier than the last, her anxiety mounting as she tried to make sense of her surroundings and figure out what awaited her next.

Taking a step forward, Michelle heard the rustling noise from behind her again. When she turned around, the sound was still there, more insistent. Panic surged through her, and she began to run down the corridor, the flashlight’s beam dimming with each passing moment.

Tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes as she spotted a control panel at the end of the corridor. Desperate to reach it, she sprinted faster, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The rustling noise grew louder, more ominous, as the light from her flashlight flickered and then went out, leaving her in suffocating darkness.

Each footfall felt like a mile as she ran, the control panel seeming to retreat with every step she took. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears, drowning out everything else.

In the pitch black, she extended her hand, feeling her way along the wall. She braced herself for a collision but kept reaching forward, fingers trembling as they searched for the control panel. Just as she felt something brush against her shoulder, the lights flared on, momentarily blinding her.

Michelle collapsed to the floor, curling up into a tight ball, trying to find solace in the fetal position. The harsh, bright lights made her eyes water as she clung to the ground, overwhelmed by the ordeal.

A hand suddenly grabbed her arm, jolting her from her disorientation. She flinched, her body tensing as she was dragged across the cold tile floor. The hand was firm yet gentle, guiding her away from the control panel and the nightmarish rustling sound that still echoed faintly in her mind.

She struggled against the grip, but when she looked up to see her attacker, she was surprised to see the silhouette of her mother. “Mom?”

The woman glanced briefly at her before continuing through what Michelle recognized as the central headquarters of the Candids. Strangely, the place was deserted.

When they reached a door, her mother shoved her inside, making her fall to the ground in front of a group of people. As Michelle looked up to see who they were, she only recognized a few of her mother’s colleagues.

Eric, watching the scene unfold on the screen that showed what was happening inside Michelle's mind, was immediately intrigued to see Jeanine Matthews among the people.

He glanced at Michelle in the chair before turning his attention back to the screen, curious to know if this was some sort of memory and whether it was connected to why Jeanine seemed so interested in her.

A man with red hair, dressed in a suit and tie, nodded to the woman behind him. She took a seat next to a woman Michelle recognized as Jeanine Matthews.

Michelle stood up, carefully adjusting her clothes and surveying the people before her.

“Ellie Black, don’t worry,” the man said, offering her a smile as she approached. “We just need you to answer a few questions for us, okay?”

Her mother glared at her for not responding, and Jeanine stepped in, noticing the young girl’s defensiveness. “Calm down, we don’t want to hurt you. We just need you to tell us everything you know about your father.”

If Eric was intrigued before, now he was thoroughly confused. The way they were speaking to Michelle seemed almost condescending, as if addressing a small child. A sudden realization struck him—this was indeed a memory, likely a traumatic one. The woman he assumed was her mother was able to drag her around effortlessly because, in this memory, Michelle was very young.

Michelle’s demeanor—hugging herself and looking distrustfully at the strangers—reinforced the idea. Even Jeanine appeared different, seeming younger.

“Do you know anything about his disappearance, Ellie?” asked the red-haired man.

Michelle remained silent.

“Answer!” her mother hissed, her face twisted in anger.

Jeanine approached her, gently stroking Michelle’s face with a tender expression. “If you tell us what you know, we might be able to find him. Bring him back to you,” the red-haired man cleared his throat slightly, and Jeanine silenced him with a sharp look. “Please be a good girl, Ellie.”

Michelle’s eyes welled with tears, but she remained silent, not even nodding. Jeanine’s smile faltered, and she stepped back, signaling the two men who moved in to restrain Michelle by her arms.

“No! No! Mom!” Michelle cried out as a third man retrieved a long syringe from a briefcase and injected the transparent liquid into her neck while she struggled desperately.

The onlookers watched impassively, as if waiting for something. Michelle’s discomfort quickly escalated into pain, causing her to sob uncontrollably.

“Another dose,” ordered the red-haired man.

“No... no,” Michelle pleaded through her sobs, but the third man prepared another syringe.

Eric watched as Michelle writhed in pain, restrained by the two men. He was puzzled by the unfolding scene, trying to understand what her fear could be until his gaze fell upon the syringe on the table beside him.

As Michelle’s cries grew more desperate, Eric could see that this wasn’t just a fear simulation—it was a vivid replay of a traumatic memory. He observed her face twisted in anguish, her body trembling uncontrollably as the second dose of the mysterious liquid was administered. The entire scene seemed to revolve around a deep, unresolved fear from her past, one that was being painfully relived.

Eric’s attention shifted back to the screen, trying to discern the details of Michelle’s memory. The sterile office environment, the authoritative figures, and her mother’s plea—all pointed to a significant and distressing event in her childhood. He noted how Michelle’s entire demeanor, her frantic movements, and her pleas were indicative of a child in intense fear.

The red-haired man, standing with an air of cold authority, spoke up again. “Ellie, if you don’t cooperate, this will only get worse. You know how this works.”

Michelle’s body was trembling violently, her tears flowing freely. Her mother’s expression was a mix of frustration and resignation. Jeanine Matthews, observing from a distance, seemed to hold an air of detached concern, as if this was a necessary, albeit uncomfortable, part of a broader plan.

Eric’s thoughts raced. The injections, the coercive techniques, the specific mention of her father’s disappearance—everything was piecing together into a disturbing picture. It was clear that Michelle was reliving a moment of profound fear and helplessness, a memory tied to her father’s unexplained disappearance.

As Michelle’s screams of agony grew softer, a determined look began to form on her tear-streaked face. With a painful effort, she managed to stop her sobbing, focusing all her energy on resisting the injections and the overwhelming fear. Her body shook with the effort, but her eyes were now filled with a steely resolve.

With a sudden burst of strength, Michelle broke free from one of the guards holding her. She staggered away, her legs weak but her willpower fierce. Her mother’s face, once stern and commanding, now reflected confusion and concern. The red-haired man’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by Michelle’s unexpected resistance.

The room’s atmosphere shifted, the oppressive fear momentarily giving way to a glimmer of hope. Michelle’s focus sharpened, and despite the pain from the injections, she managed to grab hold of a nearby object—a metal lamp left on a desk. Using it as an improvised weapon, she swung it at the nearest guard.

The impact wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to create a momentary distraction. The guard staggered back, giving Michelle a precious opportunity to make a break for it. She darted towards the door, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The dimly lit room was now a blur of shadows and uncertainty, but Michelle’s determination guided her steps.

Michelle jolted upright from the chair, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she collapsed into the corner of the room. Eric, initially taken aback by her sudden movement, quickly refocused on the computer, entering the simulation data with a practiced efficiency.

Without turning his gaze, he spoke, his tone carrying a hint of detached admiration. “You took longer than expected, but you’ve set a new record.”

Michelle finally looked up, her eyes meeting Eric’s. What he saw in her gaze shocked him—an icy coldness he had never seen before. It was not the usual apathy he had come to expect from her, but something far more chilling. The intensity in her eyes reminded him of that night, the night when the stakes had been so high.

For a moment, Eric felt a wave of unease wash over him, even tho he masked it. The coldness in Michelle's eyes seemed to strip away any pretense of normalcy, revealing an undercurrent of something darker. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken understanding.

Eric’s eyes flickered briefly over the data on his screen before he turned his full attention back to her. “You’ve done well,” he said, but his voice lacked warmth. “Now, let’s see how you handle the aftermath.”

Michelle, still reeling from the intensity of her simulation struggled to compose herself. The experience had been more than just a test; it had uncovered fears and memories she had long tried to suppress. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart and regain control.

Eric’s eyes remained fixed on her, his expression unreadable. There was a tension in the room, a silent acknowledgment of the personal and emotional boundaries that had been crossed. Despite his coldness, Michelle sensed a faint trace of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or a reluctant respect for her perseverance.

Michelle rose slowly, her movements stiff and strained. She left the room without uttering a single word, her silence heavy with unresolved emotions. Eric watched her go, a deep conflict stirring within him. He clenched his fists, the weight of what he had just witnessed pressing down on him.

After a moment, Eric stood up, determination set in his features. He left the room swiftly, his mind racing as he made his way to contact Jeanine Matthews.

Knowledge pt.6

check here 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: 3.4k

Throughout the entire day, Michelle kept to herself, observing her peers one after another engage in combat on the mat. Sunny attempted to stay with her for a while, noticing her seeming shaken as she stared blankly ahead.

She appeared to be in a trance, as if she were inside a bubble isolating her from everyone else.

When six o'clock rolled around, they were dismissed, and Michelle wasted no time in getting up to leave the room, not waiting for anyone. However, a hand on her bicep stopped her. She glanced at the hand that halted her movement and then lifted her gaze, coming face to face with Eric.

"Good job today," he said, his expression devoid of emotion.

She looked at him for a moment before nodding and walking away, freeing herself from his grip.

Eric wasn't pleased with what he had been ordered to do, to go easy on her and keep an eye on her, but after that training session, his curiosity was piqued. He had thought she was weak, inadequate, and useless, but seeing her beat a fellow trainee until she passed out had stirred something within him.

He had seen the look in her eyes, devoid of emotion, her stoic face as she broke her opponent's nose. He liked this side of her.

He glanced at her one last time before turning back to the center of the gym, ready to start training on his own.

Meanwhile, Michelle headed straight to the dormitory, Sunny following behind her with Tina and Max catching up. She just wanted to hurry up, take a shower, and then rush to Tori's place to see if the stencil was ready.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sunny caught up, putting an arm around her shoulders.

She nodded, still staring ahead. She didn't know how to honestly answer her, she didn't even know herself how she felt at that moment; her knuckles tingled, bloody, and she had a strong headache from the blows she had taken.

"Sure?" Sunny insisted, pulling her closer, giving her a sideways hug. "I saw you a bit distant after the match."

The truth was she felt scared, losing control was something that had never happened to her before. When she heard Chloe surrender, she wanted to stop, but seeing her beneath her, bleeding, tears in her eyes, made her feel invincible.

Not even Eric's voice had stopped her with the first blow, too caught up in the euphoria of venting out everything she had endured among the Candor.

Sunny let her go, seeing how she didn't even respond to one-word answers, stopping Tina and Max who wanted to congratulate her. She needed time alone, and she was grateful for Sunny who understood that.

She entered the dormitory and took a seat on her bed, resting her elbows on her knees and burying her head in her hands.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself, reliving the images from a few hours earlier.

She retrieved from under the pillow the photo of her and Anne, now slightly crumpled from always having to hide it in inconspicuous places; she missed her, a lot, and she wondered what Anne would have thought if she had seen her in that situation.

She would probably have hated her, but she wouldn't have been able to leave her.

A drop fell onto the photo, and Michelle sniffled, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie, trying to stop the tears that kept flowing one after another.

She hid the photo and headed to the showers, trying to avoid the gaze of the few initiates present in the dormitory, and got under the water as quickly as possible. It was there that she let go, crying silently and covering her mouth with her hands to muffle the sobs.

She couldn't be weak, she shouldn't be, yet she couldn't stop crying.

She spent more time than necessary under the now cold shower water, the stinging of her bruised knuckles had disappeared, and they had stopped bleeding. She realized that most of the blood on her hands wasn't hers but Chloe's.

She joined Sunny in the cafeteria, taking a seat beside her and Four, who were discussing their plans for the next day.

"...shooting range," Four was saying, but she ignored them, leaving them to their conversation. She wasn't in the mood to socialize, so she grabbed some food and remained in complete silence, hardly making any noise.

She glimpsed Max across from her getting fidgety, speaking in hushed tones with the girl next to him, Tina. Michelle rolled her eyes.

"Really good fight earlier," Max suddenly said, smiling at Michelle when she looked at him. "Awesome," he added with a thumbs-up.

"Yeah, it was so cool!" Tina exclaimed, and Michelle had to refrain from throwing her plate at her to wipe that amused expression off her face.

She watched them in silence, a monotone expression before finishing her meal and getting up. "Hey, no, don't-"

"Tina, stop!" Sunny interjected as her friend left, exiting the cafeteria after barely ten minutes.

"No, I wasn't making fun of her. It was really a good fight," Bowie, the tall guy, rolled his eyes at Tina voice.

"Oh, someone who gets it."

"But why would she react like this? She won!" Max exclaimed, confused.

Four let the forks fall onto his plate, drawing the attention of the table. He looked down before raising his gaze back to the initiates, a sarcastic expression. "She lost control."

"And so?" Max continued.

"And so, if she hadn't stopped, she could have killed her," Four replied, standing up. "Chloe won't be at training tomorrow; she's in the infirmary under observation."

Michelle made her way through the cold and dark corridors with the sole intention of reaching the tattoo shop, knowing that either Tori or Tyson would be there instead of in the cafeteria. She arrived at the brightly lit storefront and was fortunate not to encounter many people during her brief journey.

Entering, she noticed movement inside, and Tyson emerged from behind the counter, his stern expression replaced by a smile as he saw the girl approaching him.

"Michelle, I was hoping you'd stop by tonight," he said, straightening up the counter before moving towards one of the stations. Michelle followed him in silence.

She was tired.

"Tori gave me the stencil, what do you think?" Tyson showed her a sheet with his design on it, only enlarged and with some added details that she really liked. It was her design, just improved.

"I like it," she simply said.

"Do you want to do it tonight?" he began cleaning the station, expecting a yes. "I'm not sure how long it'll take; we've been provided with some new technologies to speed up the process. But it will hurt."

Tyson looked at her, warning her. He wasn't a big fan of the new machines; it felt like they took away his manual skill, but for a tattoo of that size, maybe it was more appropriate.

"That's okay," she wanted to finish it as soon as possible.

He motioned for her to lie face down on the table, and Michelle complied, taking off her hoodie and bra. The table's skin was cold against hers, giving her goosebumps.

"I'll apply the stencil," Tyson wasn't one to talk much, and Michelle was immensely grateful for it, managing to enjoy a couple of hours in silence.

At that hour, few Dauntless came into the shop, many busy resting or partying somewhere else.

She had to admit it was painful, not as much as she imagined, but she still had to hold back from releasing a groan more than once as Tyson passed over a sensitive area on her back.

Tyson followed her closely, his calloused fingers occasionally touching her to ensure the design was in place.

"We should be done," he said, approaching her and sitting on the stool beside her.

Suppressing a satisfied smile, he looked at the enormous tattoo etched on her skin. It had turned out better than he had imagined. He gave Michelle's shoulder a pat to signal her to get up.

"Look in the mirror."

Michelle rose from the table, holding her unfastened bra to her chest to see the tattoo in all its beauty. It was stunning; she stood there with her mouth agape, admiring the long stretches of black ink on her skin.

She was slightly flushed, but other than that, she was unfazed. "It's stunning," she whispered, continuing to gaze at herself in the mirror.

Tyson approached from behind, noticing his reflection in the mirror. He smiled at her. "I'm glad. You have talent, you know? You could come work here after initiation. You have your own style, and I think people here would appreciate it."

Michelle smiled to herself, blushing slightly at the compliment. She went to fasten her bra, but her shoulders were sore, stiffened after two hours in the same position.

"Can I?" Tyson whispered, and Michelle, uncertain, turned around, letting him fasten her bra.

"Thank you," Michelle returned to the station to put on her hoodie and then went to pay, but he stopped her.

"Consider it a gift and an extra reason to get through initiation. It would be a waste of such a tattoo among the factionless," he chuckled, refusing the payment.

Michelle looked at him, slightly confused by the gesture, but she smiled and nodded at him, bidding him farewell.

The corridors were cold as Michelle left the tattoo shop, not that it was anything new, but the noise coming from the Pit compensated for the coldness of that place. She leaned out, trying not to stumble, and saw a large group of Dauntless scattered all over the Pit.

Shouts, laughter, and songs echoed throughout the place. How could she not have heard them?

Michelle spotted some of her peers but decided to ignore them. She wasn't in the mood to celebrate, and to be honest, she never was. She wasn't a fan of parties.

She preferred silence, the ability to be alone with her thoughts. Her mind, already chaotic, didn't need further external distractions like blasting music, sweaty people, and drunkards constantly bumping into her.

It just wasn't her scene.

When she returned to the dormitory, she found only Bowie, the guy who had sat with them at dinner but whom she had never spoken to before. He was lounging on his bed, a book in hand.

She ignored him, taking a seat on her own bed instead, trying to get some sleep. However, it didn't take long for her to realize that sleeping on her back wouldn't be possible that night.

She turned on her mattress, as hard as concrete, before the boy's voice spoke to her. "Aren't you going to celebrate?"

It was monotone, tired.

"No," she replied.

Bowie lowered the book and observed her for a moment, intrigued by the girl who moved through the faction like a ghost. She went unnoticed, didn't linger in crowded places, and certainly didn't talk much.

He would have bet everything he owned that probably only they knew of her existence.

"I understand," he simply said before returning to his book.

Michelle managed to close her eyes, isolating herself from the noise coming from the Pit, and eventually drifted off to sleep. She didn't hear her roommates come back, or Sunny bumping into her bed.

She was immersed in the world of dreams, enveloped in darkness.

Her heart was racing, she couldn't see anything, not even her hands when she brought them to her face, and she started to panic when she felt wetness on them, as if someone had poured something over them.

Then, above her, a faint light appeared, illuminating the room she was in, but she still couldn't see the walls of it.

She lowered her gaze, observing her hands covered in red. The metallic smell invaded her nostrils, and she had to fight back the urge to vomit when she saw the body at her feet.

When she realized she was the one responsible for this, she began to tremble; the body was covered in bruises and blood, the face so disfigured that she couldn't tell whose it was.

Her breath was shallow, her heart racing as she clenched her hands into fists, biting her lip to distract herself from the excruciating pain radiating from her knuckles.

"Ellie?" the girl froze upon hearing that sweet voice, unable to turn around to face her. "Ellie, is that you?"

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She couldn't run, she couldn't hide, and she didn't have the courage to turn around and look Anne in the eyes, covered in blood.

Wasn't bravery supposed to be a defining trait of the Dauntless? To fear nothing?

Yet in that moment, she felt like a coward. She was scared, no, she was terrified of how her best friend might react.

But she turned anyway, very slowly, and when she raised her gaze to meet Anne's eyes, she saw her in tears, her face terrified. Michelle fell to her knees, unable to stand from shaking so violently.

"What have you done?" Anne whispered, keeping her distance.

"Anne-"

"What have you done to me, Ellie?" Michelle stopped crying at that moment, confused.

"What?" she asked, but Anne began to cry louder.

"Why? Why did you do this to me?" It was almost impossible to understand what she was saying, and Michelle turned to look at where Anne was pointing.

When she turned to look at the body, she screamed, falling to the ground, moving as far away from it as possible. She couldn't breathe, and tears began to stream down her face.

"No, no, no," she whispered to herself, pulling her knees to her chest and closing her eyes to try to rid herself of that image.

It wasn't real, it was just a bad dream, but she couldn't wake up. Why couldn't she wake up?

"Look what you've done," Anne whispered in her ear, crying. "Look at me."

Something pulled her hair, forcing her to look at the body a few meters away from her. Michelle struggled to see what was in front of her, her eyes blurred with tears, but her red hair was unmistakable.

"I'm sorry," she managed to say between sobs. She felt her heart shattered, as if someone had taken it and torn it from her chest.

Michelle jerked up from her bed, falling to the floor. She couldn't breathe, feeling her heart pounding out of her chest. She got up and ran to the bathroom.

She turned on the faucet and began to scrub her hands under the water forcefully, ignoring the sharp pain caused by the wounds that were reopening. She tried to stay quiet, suppressing the sobs and moans that escaped her mouth every time she thought of Anne's unrecognizable body.

"It wasn't real, it wasn't real, it wasn't real..." she kept whispering like a broken record. She had to convince herself it wasn't real, just a bad dream. But then why did it feel so vivid?

She could have sworn she remembered the warm blood still on her hands. Anne's blood. "No..." she whimpered at the thought and decided to leave the dormitory, unable to stay silent for much longer.

She didn't even bother to put on a pair of shoes or pants other than her pajama shorts. She ran through the corridors, ignoring the pain caused by the uneven floor under her feet.

Nothing could compare to the pain her heart felt at that moment.

She didn't think about where to go, but her feet led her to the chasm. She stopped to observe it, not understanding why she had ended up there, but she decided to stay, sitting on the metal walkway overlooking the rushing water.

It would take just a small push to end her life; someone could come up behind her and give her a gentle nudge to make her fall. Yet she didn't care.

She pulled her knees to her chest and resumed crying, ignoring the cold that the current brought with it; she had goosebumps.

Her sobs were barely audible over the crashing water against the rocks. She felt powerless in that moment, a feeling entirely different from the one she had felt that morning when she had felt invincible, with Chloe's life in her hands.

Maybe this wasn't the place for her. Maybe she was right to think she wouldn't make it through initiation.

Maybe Eric was right.

Michelle, however, was unaware that she was being watched by the latter. Eric observed her through the cameras in the control room, with Four seated in front of him.

"Is she planning to jump?" Eric asked, raising an eyebrow. He had to admit he was confused to see her so broken when just a few hours earlier he had seen her stronger than ever.

"I don't think so," Four replied, rising from his seat.

Eric watched him leave. "Where are you going?"

Eric's colleague stopped and turned to look at him, wearing a serious expression. "I'm going to make sure she doesn't seriously jump."

Eric scoffed. "Too bad for her. We can't babysit initiates who can't handle everything, Four. We can't have weak links in here."

Four looked at him and chuckled, incredulous and annoyed. "Not everyone is a sociopath like you, Eric. Michelle lost control with Chloe, you saw it yourself, she wasn't herself! What did you expect her reaction to be?"

He resumed walking towards the cliff to find Michelle, hoping her plans weren't really to jump. It would be a shame, especially because Jeanine Matthews would be furious with them.

Michelle was important to their leader, but they didn't yet know why.

Four walked through the cold and dark corridors in silence, contemplating what to do once he reached the girl. The most important thing was to get her away from the cliff to avoid the greater danger, then he would have to figure out a way to calm her down.

He was surprised not to find her in the gym that night, which is why he decided to go to the control room to try to find her, to make sure everything was okay. It wouldn't be the first time another initiate had attacked someone potentially better than them.

When he arrived at the cliff, he stopped; the girl no longer seemed to be crying, instead, she was gazing into the void below her. A few drops of water had landed on her legs, making her even colder, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Michelle couldn't get that nightmare out of her head, now imprinted in her mind like a branding iron.

Ignoring the footsteps approaching, Michelle recognized the figure of Four, and certainly he wouldn't be the one to push her off. He took a seat beside her, letting his legs dangle from the walkway, but he didn't say anything.

He watched her, the typically apathetic and stoic expression he often saw on her was no longer present; her eyes were red and swollen, still watery, and furrowed brows betrayed her torment. He didn't know her well, only a couple of weeks, yet he would have sworn he couldn't see the day she would fall apart. Now, next to her, Michelle had started to crack.

"This isn't a good place to be alone," he said softly, not wanting to disturb her too much, but now his main mission was to get her away from the walkway.

Michelle didn't respond.

Four sighed and stood up, offering her a hand that she didn't even look at. "Michelle, I don't have time to waste," he said, annoyed.

Her silence was agonizing normally, but in that moment it was a hundred times worse. How could he help her get back on her feet if she didn't tell him what was troubling her?

He looked around for a strategy to get her to stand up, then he looked at her, narrowing his eyes as he saw black lines peeking out from under her hoodie. A tattoo couldn't have caused such a reaction.

So what was it?

"Please..." he whispered, rubbing his eyes, tired from the long day. He wanted to go to sleep, to lie down in his bed and finally relax his muscles, but now Michelle was a priority, she and her safety.

At his plea, she stood up, avoiding his gaze out of shame. She felt her cheeks burning since he arrived, embarrassed to have been found in such a state. At least she didn't cry in front of him.

They walked in silence through the faction's corridors, ignoring the tense atmosphere that had developed between them. Michelle slouched, ignoring the occasional glances her instructor threw her way.

It didn't take them long to reach the dormitory doors, and Michelle tried to open the door, but Four stopped her, turning her towards him. His ocean-blue eyes scrutinized her, and Michelle got lost in them.

"Are you okay?" he asked her in a low voice, leaning closer to be heard. He didn't want to wake anyone inside the dormitory given the late hour.

Michelle looked at him carefully, sniffing uncertain of what to say or whether to respond. She just wanted to be left alone at that moment, to have some time to herself, and she was tired, damn if she was tired.

Yet the idea of going back to sleep made her feel nauseous, the images still fresh in her mind. She nodded slightly, but Four didn't believe her and was about to ask her another question when they were interrupted by a voice to their right.

"What do we have here?" Eric chirped, stepping a few paces closer to them, closely observing their proximity. Michelle immediately recoiled, feeling the judgmental gaze of the leader, anticipating a tasteless comment about to escape his mouth.

Four looked at him defiantly. "Nothing, and you know it," he replied through clenched teeth, irritated by his colleague's childish behavior. He was unbearable.

"Well, she certainly didn't seem fine," he said, looking at Four before turning his gaze to Michelle, observing her from head to toe. "You could have chosen better; it won't last long. Bad choice."

He chuckled, noticing Michelle lowering her gaze, offended by the offensive comment towards her. His words shouldn't have hurt so much, yet she found herself holding back tears once again that evening.

She turned on her heels and entered the dormitory, not wanting to endure Eric's presence for more than a second. Eric was like acid in a certain way, attractive and toxic at the same time.

Something you wanted to study thoroughly to understand why it was so toxic, corrosive, yet Michelle knew it would be a terrible idea. But she wasn't stupid; she felt the way his touch on her skin set her on fire and his comments struck closer to her heart than they should have.

The two boys watched the initiate enter the dormitory, cautiously closing the door behind her without saying a word; not that it was anything new.

Eric turned to look at Four, arms crossed in front of his chest and one eyebrow raised, but his colleague ignored him, brushing past him and making sure to give him a shove.

The blonde watched him go, then shifted his attention to the dormitory door through which Michelle had just entered. Why was he so intrigued by her?

Perhaps it was the fact that Jaenine was equally interested in her, sparking a deep curiosity in him, or maybe it was the fact that he knew nothing about her. He didn't see her around much, she spent little time with her peers, and it seemed like Lauren adored her for some strange reason.

What was so special about Michelle?