Anastasia

As the shuttle shot out of the station, Marlee handed her application to the official behind desk 2-23.

"Miss Marlee Carol Deveana, born 20-27 in Gaithersburg, Maryland. You claim that you were rescued four months ago from under a bridge near a children's elementary school in Mentone, Texas." The red haired woman raised her brow. "What were you doing in Texas if you're from Maryland?"

"A dream lead me there. I saw a little girl with long black hair and there was an envelope on the desk addressed to Mentone Elementary School." She answered slowly, honestly, as she rubbed her arms a bit.

"Uh huh, a dream. Well then, this may just be the fact that I'm next on the list if we don't get enough volunteers, but congrats." She stamped the form with bright red ink before adding it to a stack of applicants no thicker than a Discover Card envelope. "You'll be on the next bus out. I suggest you report to training at Building C room 1-38 immediately. There they'll give you a badge and your uniform, as well as your rule book and hand book. You'll also receive your role." She signed the acceptance card and handed it to Marlee. "Go to the basement and take tunnel B."

Marlee got up as she held the card tightly in her left hand, making her way to the door. Her feet scuff as she tried not to break into a sprint. The door closed behind and off she went. She ran down the step with her toes barely making contact with the stone beneath her. Her hand was subtly on the rail and there was no stopping her until she reached the bottom of the steps.

She stopped the second her foot touch the damp ground, like as though her feet froze in a bucket of cement. She stared ahead at the tunnels, the lights flickered like candles in the breeze barely giving way to what each sign stated. One stiffened step at a time, she moved forward towards the doors that separated the potentially poisoned tunnel air from the rest of the basement. There were rumors circulating that the moving through the tunnels quickly and without taking a breath are what separated the true recruits from the posers. She never believed it before, she never truly thought that the woman at the desk would send excited applicants to their death. But, she had never been in the basement of Nirvana, she had never faced the tunnels of Nirvana. If she can't save herself from controlled threats within the dome, how could she expect herself to safe even one person from the outside?

Her feet were heavy as she approached a tunnel with a crudely painted and now worn B on the door. Her arm weighed heavy as she reached to grab to the heavy metal handle separating her from her future. She listened to the gears grind as she turned the handle and could feel the pressure release as she opened the door. She stepped in and closed the door.

The tunnel was musty, warm and damp, like just before a heavy, summer storm. The pale yellow lights on the walls guiding the way blinked and faded. She took a heavy step forward to be rewarded with the a squish beneath her sneaker. Chills quaked up and down her spine as she looked down slowly at the ground beneath her. Its seemed muddy. She looked around, there were no plants, not even moss. It was then she believe the rumors.

She held her breath and turned to find that the door was a one way access, pulling on the handle, she fought her will to scream. When it wouldn't open, she turned to face her possible doom; death in a tunnel with her last contact being the woman who sent her there. She started sprinting, she feeling like she was going to blow from holding her breath. She felt her lungs shrivel as oxygen circulated into her blood. Her heart raced as though it would explode from sprinting. She kept going, her feet landing hard and squishing the muck beneath them. She felt like someone was using her as a live canvas and splatting her with brown paint.

She could barely the door as her eyes felt like they were about to explode. Part of her feared that the door wouldn't open as her hand hit the handle. Unable to stop her body she made contact with the door, flinging it open. She gasped for fresh air before she collapsed and fell backwards onto the ground like her feet were pulled from under her. The last thing she saw was a bright light, yellowing from age.