My True Pack.

Chapter 12

Mark Winston's Point of View.

I was eating my pancakes with coffee when a very angry Thomas came. He threw my plate to the wall and looked at me with furious eyes. And he's not even crazy.

"Hello, sunshine, how did you sleep?" I asked with my coffee on my hand and took a sip.

"Tell me I heard wrong. Tell me I heard wrong!"

I smiled sadly at him. "Depends on what you heard."

He slammed his hands into the table. "You and Newt!"

I took another sip from my coffee. "Oh, that. Yeah, you didn't hear wrong."

"H-how?! You told you never met Newt! And in the Maze?!"

I chuckled. "Calm, cupcake. You should be happy, your boyfriend is safe. From infection, anyways. But safe from something."

"And you?"

I sighed. "Ah, me. Now, that's a different subject. I'm afraid I am not safe anymore. In fact, it's been at least two days since I officially got the Flare."

He looked at me like if I was a maniac.

"Thomas, I'm going crazy. I am stressing more than usual and my temper snaps so quickly. I'm tired even if I drink ten cups of coffee. Thomas, I'm dying." I took another sip from my coffee.

He finally calmed down after those words. He sat down. "How?"

I looked at Minho that was also on the table. "I guess you all want to know how I met Newt even if I said I didn't because of my banishing. It's complicated."

"Make it simple then." Minho answered.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Ok, fine. First, before they banished me. I found a cure. Well, kind of. It's possible to pass down your inmunity to someone else. It's a part of the brain that, was never needed so you won't die if they take it out. It's a surgery that I only thought of. Never did. Because I knew that Ava would take all the inmunity of the boys and give it to the old generations. So, I kept it secret."

"You follow so far?" I asked both of them and they nodded.

"Alright, so, they banished me. Or so you thought. I was inmune. Ava wouldn't just throw me away. So, she let me into your group. Group A. And yeah...I got my memories erased. But, I manged to remember something. This words." I showed them my arm.

Find Newt.
Save him.

"I don't remember why I wrote them. I remember that it was probably because of you, Thomas. Anways, I went like a fool asking Alby, George, anyone who was Newt. Finally, I met another limping boy (apart from me) that said he went by that name. So, I had the half part done. But save him? How the fuck could I do that? I spent days in my own head. Trying to remember who I was. And a vague memory came to me. The Maze was my answer."

I took another sip from my coffee.

"So, I know what you're all thinking. And yes, I ran the Maze--."

"Hold on, I was in the Maze with Newt. How didn't I never see you or even remember you?" Minho interrupted me.

"Because. Have you forgotten that W.I.C.K.E.D can alter your memories how they want? Yes, I did saw you and you saw me. But maybe Ava altered your memories of me. Or I don't know, anyways, to the story. I ran the Maze, and something happened to me."

"You got stung?" Thomas asked.

I shook my head. "Nope. I did saw the Grievers but it wasn't that. What happened was this: I saw the Cliff. And like the ADHD dumbass I always am, I jumped off it and missed the Griever Hole. And the Grievers started to tear me apart. And by the time Alby and Newt got there, I lost my right eye and my body was complete red. I don't remember how I survived but I did survive."

"And?" Minho asked.

"I remembered everything after that attack. Well, most of my life. And I remembered how to save Newt. Of course, it was a surgery that I directed. Told the med-jacks everything they needed and was sure to be careful with W.I.C.K.E.D, we had to sedate Newt because he didn't believe me. But it was a success. Newt was finally inmune and I was not. The Flare could kill me but it was worth it. And then...Tina took me out of the Maze...and--." I couldn't finish those last words.

"Come on! Tina, we're almost at the exit!" I yelled, signing the freaking exit of the buliding.

"Mark, you need to get out. You truly need to get out." She said, limping because of her leg shot.

I ran to her and helped her. Of course that my own limp was molesting me but ignored it. "I won't leave you here. You might not be my first love but you're my true love, I won't leave you here."

"Gosh, Mark. Never thought you truly loved me." She joked.

We made it to the exit. And the Scorch was visible and I thought we could made it--.

"Mark!" A voice shouted.

I turned around with Tina on my arms. And saw Janson and his guards.

"We don't know what you did to Subject A5 but it changed his way of thinking. We had to erase those memories for him to think like used to. But it doesn't mean we know what you did. Come, you might help us." He smiled.

"You!! I made W.I.C.K.E.D! I am one of the three founders of W.I.C.K.E.D and when I made this, it wasn't for this!" I shouted.

"Leave with us. Thomas still thinks this is a good operation, why won't you?"

"Fuck what Mitch thinks. He lost me as a friend the moment Mary died."

Jason smiled. "I'm truly sorry you feel that way."

And a gunshot was heard.

Tina's body went numb and her whole body went down. I looked down and saw a puddle of blood in her stomach. I fell with her, tears in my eyes.

"No, no, no. You. Don't do this to me." I whispered while taking her in my arms.

"A-always so hard. I-it's okay." She smiled.

"Gosh, Tina. I lost Mary. I can't lose you." I choked in my words.

"M-Mary would be proud of you, M-Mark." She touched my cheek.

"I promised you. I promised that we'll make out alive. W.I.C.K.E.D isn't good, I see that now. Please." My sobs were getting the best of me.

"Don't dwell on me, l-love." Her eyes were closing.

"NO! You were my true love, you are my true love."

"I love you, Rick Goodman."

I snapped out my trance and see myself writting like crazy on a napkin.

W.I.C.K.E.D isn't good.
W.I.C.K.E.D isn't good.
W.I.C.K.E.D isn't good.
W.I.C.K.E.D isn't good.
W.I.C.K.E.D isn't good.

I stopped and coughed. Blood coming out of me. And a slight twitch on my limp. I looked at Thomas and gave a sip of my coffee.

"I don't care about my death. Living is harder than dying anyways."