𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ༒ minho, tmr

twenty-nine ~ it's wckd

✵

Barely a word had been spoken since the interviews, which only made Londyn and Thomas feel sicker, wondering if one of their unknowing friends had shared something with these strangers that they couldn't be trusted with.

Thomas looked as though he was going to throw up by the time he reached the canteen. He sat anxiously playing with his own hands, unable to consume even a mouthful of food. 

"Thomas, are you okay?" Londyn asked, sitting across the table from him unable to ignore his unsettled expression.

Thomas took a breath. "Last night, I went through the vents."

Newt inhaled audibly, intrigued. "Why?"

"I saw them pushing... carts of some kind, with something covered up on them," Thomas explained. "They looked..."

"Like what?" Londyn asked, starting to feel slightly sick. 

Thomas shook his head. "No, but they looked like people. What else could they be?"

"You don't know that, though, Tommy," Newt said quietly, leaning towards his best friend. "They might not have been. Let's not make any rash decisions until we know for sure what's going on here."

Janson emerged from his usual hiding place, beginning to read out the names one by one like clockwork. Thomas's gaze hardened on the door which he had seen Teresa through the day before.

"I wanna know what's through that door," he muttered, and all of his friends glanced at him.

"Now, we've been over this," Newt replied. "You said they were covered up so you don't know what you saw. It could have been anything under there."

"I know exactly what I saw. They were bodies," Thomas argued. "Aris said they bring in a new batch every night."

"Who the hell is Aris?" Minho asked, and Thomas then pointed to a boy sitting by himself across the room, examining a piece of food in his hand for whatever reason.

"Well," Minho continued, still analyzing the boy. "I'm sold."

"Thank you for your attention!" Janson announced as the selected few began leaving their friends for good. "Enjoy the rest of your evening!"

"Okay, until we know anything for certain, we should just keep our heads down and try not to draw any attention to ourselves, all right?" Newt decided, but Thomas had other plans as he got up from the table with a bang and marched towards the door the others had just left through.

"What is he doing?" Newt asked.

"I think he's drawing attention to himself," Frypan answered.

They watched as Thomas was stopped by the same guard as the day before, wondering what he was going to do next. He looked as though he was going to retreat back to his friends, but he suddenly turned on his heel again and tried to charge straight through the two built men.

The others jumped up from their seats, rushing over to drag Thomas back from the altercation as he had seemed to be losing it when Janson popped through the middle to see what was going on.

"Why won't you let me see her?!" Thomas demanded, and Janson approached him.

"What's happening here?" He turned to his guards and then back to Thomas. "Thomas? I thought we could trust each other. You know we're all on the same team here."

"Are we?" Thomas retorted, Janson's slimy hand perched upon his shoulder.

Janson's face hardened, but he still bore his smug smirk. "Get them to their bunks."