Afflicted↠ Newt [1]

Chapter 17

A/N:
I'm gonna try and write this chapter from 3rd POV, so we'll see how it goes :3

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A scream echoed off the stone walls of the Glade. Not the scream of panic or pain, but instead a scream of anger. A girl's scream, and everyone immediately knew who it belonged to.
Gally erupted out of the shaggy building that served as the Homestead, his eyes wide and full of panic as he approached Newt, who only stood back with an amusement grin on his face.
"Your shuck girlfriend is going to kill me," Gally was breathless, probably from running for his life from Emily, who was now appearing out of the Homestead.
"What'd you do this time?" Newt crossed his arms, doing his best to ignore the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach at the mention of Emily being his so-called "girlfriend".
"It wasn't me, man. That's the thing." Gally took a step behind Newt, shielding himself from Emily as she angrilly stormed over to them. "It was Minho. He took her shuck cotton plug things and hid them in my room. I don't even know what they are, but she's making a big deal out of it."
Newt stifled a laugh when Gally let out a yelp as Emily approached them, her eyes blazed with anger.
"Gally!" Her voice echoed throughout the Glade, earning several worried glances from the boys. They knew something bad was about to happen. "Why did you even begin to think it was okay to take them?"
"I didn't take them." Gally said, cowered behind Newt. Newt took a step to the side, stepping away from the two quarreling friends with a small chuckle.
"Then why were they sitting on your bed? You have no idea how embarrassing it is to-" Emily cut herself off, closing her eyes for a moment. "It seems to me like you did take them."
"It was Minho," Gally suddenly stood up straight, any sign of fear disappearing. It was about time, too. He should know that Emily would never do anything to hurt another Glader. She respected the rules too well. "He took them and put them in my room to make it seem like I did it."
Emily glanced over at Newt, raised in eyebrow as if waiting for him to comfirm it. He shrugged, not exactly knowing the full story.
"Where's Minho?" She asked, sounding far too calm. It almost scared Newt, though he knew she was only messing around.
"Probably cowering in the buggin' Deadheads," he said with a chuckle. And when she took off in the direction of the forest, he called after her. "Don't murder him!"
He didn't know if she heard him, though if she did, she showed no signs of it. Newt only rubbed his temples, closed his eyes with a sigh. Him and Minho were supposed to be out in the Maze right now, though the other Runner claimed he had something else to do- something more important. He figured this was it.
Beside him, Gally let out a sigh, his broud shoulders relaxing.
"She doesn't really scare you, does she?" Newt asked with a chuckle.
"Dude, if you saw the look on her face when she caught you standing over her box of those things, you would be, too. It was horrible. I seriously thought I was going to be thrown off the Cliff."

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The sun was halfway up the sky when Minho and Newt finally headed off into the Maze. His friend's hair was ruffled, breathing heavily, as if he were just running for his life. Which, he probably was. Everyone seemed to be terrified of Emily, especially with the way she was acting. Everyone except Newt, of course. He only found it cute.
They went their seperate ways, each turning into their own section. Newt pulled out his notepad, scribbling down a few messy notes as he ran. Nothing seemed abnormal today. Just the same old things. Stone, cracked walls. Ivy. A rock on the floor. Some more walls. Lots more ivy. It was all the same. Every single day. Occasionally, he would pass by a shining silver plague, partially hidden by the ivy on the walls. He payed no attention to them, however, as he saw them every day. Every one the the plagues would say the same thing:
World In Catasrophe:
Killzone Experiment Department
He had little to know knowledge on what the plagues meant, expect for the fact that it spelled out "WICKED". The same word that labeled the boxes that arrived in the lift. They obviously tied together somehow, though he didn't know how.