Everbloom ღ Newt TMR²

1. Mr. Newton

Here we are again my lovely Runners! Back to Nori! Yay!

I've decided to write this one in the third person, so I can try and get more perspective from other characters also.

I'm excited to start this next book, so let's begin!

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Newt lay awake in bed in the room with the other Gladers who managed to escape the Maze.

Newt remembered vividly what had happened

They had fought their way out, putting in the code and finding the Control Room, losing many on the way. But when they got into that room, the Creators had show up, along with Gally. Newt still remember the crazed look in his eyes. And how the woman who was with him had kept calling him Mr. Newton, reminding him that his name, is not truly his name.

Gally had said something about them controlling him, before pulling a silver dagger out of his back pocket. He had sent it spinning in the direction of Thomas, but the plan didn't seem to include Chuck tagging the blow for him. The young boy had died moments later in Thomas' arms, crushing everyone around him. That's when Thomas lost it.

He had charged at Gally, taking him down, holding his throat with one hand, and throwing punches with the other. Newt and Minho left him for a second, before deciding it had been long enough. Thomas was killing the shank. He and Minho had dragged Thomas off of Gally, only to have him squirm away to Chuck. Tommy had screamed and screamed, but nothing was going to bring him back unfortunately.

They thought they had been done for, captured by WICKED, when all of a sudden, a rescue team stormed into the building, guns at the ready. Shots were fired until the woman and most of the onlooking scientists were dead.

Newt recalled what the man had said, 'Run like your life depends on it. Because it does.'

That is all they had done the whole time they were in the Maze.

Twenty. About twenty Gladers had made it out alive

Newt hadn't spoke much that night. But the only thought that ran through his mind, was Lori.

And now he lies awake in the bunk beneath Frypan, listening to the others sleep, thinking of Lori.

'You should never have let her go' he tells himself. Then, after he's finished blaming himself, he blames Clara. She kissed him, and then everything with Lori became a damn mess.

As Newt shut his eyes, he hears scratching coming from outside. Slowly, he takes steps towards the windows of the bedroom which their saviors provided. The scratching becomes louder, as the noise spreads around the room, coming from all directions.

Newt carefully leans close to the glass of the window closest to his bed. He couldn't see anything but stretches of land, when suddenly, a man slams his hand against the glass, screaming. Newt jumped in surprise, tripping on the colorful curtains of the window.

He scattered back on all four, until he hits his head on the bunk beds frame. The man begins to scream again, waking all the Gladers from their slumber.

Newt crawls back to his feet, looking back in the direction of what had frightened him.

The window had been smashed, and stretching its arm through was a bile-inducing . . . thing.

It was a man; but it wasn't. Where there wasn't clumps missing, he had dark hair. The parts which were bald, are covered in blood and pus, as if he has an awful sunburn.

His eyes are wide and bloodshot, taking in every inch of everything. His mouth is wide open, spittle flying everywhere as he screams. Newt looks carefully, to see that the edge of his mouth is torn wide open, almost to his ear, blood everywhere. He could see every tooth making up that side of its jaw.