Love Me Til The End

1. The Arrival

The first thing that popped into his head was 'where am I?' The feeling of coldness nipped at his skin, sending goose bumps throughout his body. He was sweating though, which was quite odd since the temperature felt so low.

The smell of rust and oil filled the air. He opened his ears and began to hear the sound of scrapping metal as the crate he was in starts to rise.

Blinking his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he worked the courage to stand up. Slowly bringing himself up, his hand traced the top of the Crate. As he looked around, he glanced at all the boxes stacked around him. The Box jolted, throwing him to the ground.

He began to realize that he couldn't remember anything about his past. He could only remember his name; Thomas. But still, he had to remember something. His family or his friends. No matter how hard he tried, nothing would appear.

A red, dim light began to fill the tunnel. He looks up, only to realize that he was heading straight for the roof. "Help! Somebody help me!" He hollered, banging against the sides of the crate.

His voice was raspy. It almost hurt to even swallow. Yet, he brought back saliva to moisten his throat.

This was it. This is how he was going to die. But what had he done to deserve this? What did he do in his past life that he wasn't suppose to remember?

The sound of the horrible metal scrapping began to grow louder as the Crate seemed to speed up, bringing him closer to his certain doom.

"Stop this! I don't want to die!" He shouted. The Box came to a sudden jolt, throwing him back against the Crate floor. The light turned green before the roof opened.

Light poured in. Thomas shielded his eyes from the blinding light. He began to hear voices. Boys voices. They sounded young. Did they do something in their past to cause them to be sent here?

Thomas looked at the crowd of boys. He watched as one jumped in the Box with him. Scooting back, he hit his head along the wall. "Day one, Greenie. Rise and shine." The grumpy boy stated before throwing Thomas out onto the grassy floor. He scurried around, afraid.

"Looks like he might work with the track hoes." "Seems scrawny, don't he?" Pushing through the crowd, Thomas began to run towards the only safe place around him; away from everyone.

"We've got a Runner!" The crowd hooted as Thomas sprinted across the yard. But all came to an end when he suddenly tripped and came crashing down.

"Ain't got the chops to run out in the Maze, don't ya Shank?" He heard someone bellow. Thomas looked up from the ground to see what the boy had meant. He had only come to realize that he was trapped in a much larger box than before.

Two boys grabbed him and began to drag him. "Let me go!" He shouted, kicking around. "He talks. What a surprise." One said. He clearly didn't have any humor within him.

He was thrown into a make shift jail, where the tied the door to the wall before walking off, talking about what job he would best be. Looking out, he scanned the surroundings

A man suddenly appeared in front of him, causing him to scurry away from the door. "Hello Greenie. Name's Alby. I'm the leader of the Glade." He suddenly said, sternly.

"Do you remember anything at all? Your name, family, your past?" He asked. "Thomas. And why can't I remember anything from my past?" He asked.

"Don't worry. No one else can. They only let us keep our names." Alby said. "They? Who are They?" He asked. Alby scoffed. "The Creators. They created this place and sent us up here."

Alby unlocked the makeshift jail and let him out. "Time for the tour, Greenie."

"We eat here, sleep here, work here. None of this works without us." Alby said. "Hey, you alright Alby." A thick accent suddenly spoke from beside him. Thomas looked at where the voice came from. The boy had tousled blonde hair, a square jaw, very muscular, and brown eyes.

Thomas felt himself fall into his gaze. "Thomas, meet Newt. When I'm not around, he's in charge." Alby introduced him. Thomas seemed to love the fact that his name was Newt. It suited him well.

"Well it's a good thing you're always around then." Newt chuckled. He turned to look at Thomas. "That was some dash you made earlier. For a second I thought you is the chops to be a Runner." Newt stated.

Runner? What's a Runner? Thoughts exploded through his head.

"Til you face planted." Newt said. Alby couldn't help but let a chuckle slip out. Thomas' face dropped. Great. Now Newt thinks he is a face planter. "Alright, see you at dinner Greenie." Newt said and walked off.

Alby led Thomas somewhere else, blabbering on about rules, this and that. Thomas couldn't help but look back at Newt.

Many times.

Thomas sat down next to a fallen tree, eating dinner. He heard shuffling beside him and glanced to see the British boy from earlier. Newt.

"How do you like your first day, Greenie?" Newt asked, taking a sip of his drink. "Oh, just great." Thomas said, sarcastically. "Oh, really?" Newt asked, glancing at him.

"Here try this." He said, handing him the drink. Thomas gladly offered it, his throat feeling parched. But as the drink hit his throat, he couldn't help but cough. It was so strong, so powerful.

He spat it out on the ground in front of him. "Uck, what is that?" He asked, coughing. "Don't know actually. Gally's secret recipe." He said. "Who's Gally?" Thomas couldn't help but ask.

"The Keeper of the Builders. You'll get to meet him later." Newt swallowed the last bit of the drink. "I'm going to get some more, want some?" Newt asked.

Thomas shook his head. "Nah, hurts my throat." He said. "Suit yourself." Newt said and walked off. Thomas looked at the scenery around him. The ivy-covered walls that surrounded him. The doors had closed already. Alby already explained that.

Thomas was interrupted from his thoughts when Newt sat back down, three more glasses of that drink. "Jeez, got enough there?" Thomas asked.

"Oh trust me. I'll be drinking more later." Newt said, before guzzling down an entire glass before holding his forehead. "Why do you drink so much?" Thomas asked, shocked at how Newt could just take all that without any reaction.

"Because she never liked drinking." Newt sighed, looking out. She? There wasn't any girls here. "Uhm, Newt. Who's she?" Thomas asked.

Newt quickly another glass before wiping tears away. He glared at Thomas before looking at the walls.

"My best friend, y/n, her brother Gally was a big drinker, so she hated all that stuff." Newt said. He pointed over to a group of boys fighting. Thomas watched as the same man who first talked to him had won. That must've been Gally.

"Parties too." Newt said, taking another sip. Thomas wanted to meet y/n. Why hadn't he met her yet? "Where is y/n tonight?" He asked. He watched as Newt's eyes seemed to lose their only light they had left.

"Oh, she jumped off the wall last May." Newt said, pointing towards the wall. Thomas looked at the wall, sadden by the topic. Newt looked down at his lap, tears falling down. Thomas felt bad for bringing up such a horrible topic.

Thomas noticed that the boys at looked over at them. Gally looked as if he was threatening to cry. But his attitude proved otherwise.

The only Asian boy there set his plate of food down, like he lost his appetite suddenly.

Newt looked up at the wall again. "Kinda wish she left a note. Ya know what I mean?" He asked. Thomas left horrible. He had brought up such a sad topic and on top of all of that, there was no note to help him recover.

Newt fought the urge to cry again and looked at Thomas. Oh how he hated talking about such a topic. Especially his closest friend ever. They were always so close. They always shared their secrets. And yet, she went out the same way Newt had tried to.

Thomas grabbed the drink and threw it in the back of his throat. He wanted to forget this awful night. This awful nightmare. All of it. Newt swallowed his saliva before planting a smile on his face. "Well, enough sad talk. This is your party after all." Newt said, urging him up. "No, no. I can't." Thomas said.

"No, no. Up. I'll show you around more." Newt said. Thomas sighed and stood up. It was the least he could do after bringing up such a topic.