Newt imagines 2

Midnight Adrenaline

In the morning I was returned to my bedroom so cold my body could no longer shiver, my fingers numb like they might fall off, and my clothes drenched in mud and some of Newt's blood.
All books or entertainment removed, they even took the duvet. I spent all day sleeping, and when I was awake I took on horrible habits to entertain myself. I would spend hours trying to scream, or open the window, even smash it sometimes.
I didn't see James for days, the only people I saw was Chuck - who came to give me my one meal a day - and Jeff - who came to check my bruising on my neck. They hardly talked to me, clearly under direct orders.

I was sat on my window sill, my eyes forever stained red after that night, my brace was lying on my bed, I had torn it off out of frustration. The bolt slid across and the door creaked open, I got to my feet confused, Jeff and Chuck and both been today... Who could it be?
James's upset face peered in. He sighed as he noticed the resentment on my face. "Don't look so angry gorgeous."
How could I not?! He had almost beaten the boy I loved to death, then he had thrown me into the pits and locked me up with nothing to do for a four days.
"It ruins your face." He said, still hoping his pathetic lines could bring me back to him.
I stuck up my finger at him. I placed a hand on my throat as Jeff had taught me to do. "I..." the word came out the first time. I paused in amazement, I could do this. "I... will..." I gasped for air. "See... him.."
My throat felt like two slabs of rusted iron grinding over one another. I expected him to just walk out and lock the door again. However he didn't appear to be as angry as he had been last time. He didn't look angry at all, more understandable. "I'll have someone take you."
I frowned, was he sick? I opened my mouth to say something, but I had clearly strained it too far earlier and all that came out was a noise.
"Thank me later." He said, he looked frustrated. He saw my curiousity. "We're out of corn," he said. "I need you to work in the gardens."
I shook my head, I had seen how hard they made the gladers work in the gardens, with limited numbers the list of job each trackhoe had to do was outrageous and would have been impossible when Alby was ruling.

A guard escorted me to Newt's pit, he unlocked the door, his eyes scanning me up and down judgementally, then he opened the door and let me go down. James had insisted I wore my brace to visit Newt, so moving my head was limited, and I couldn't see him as I descended the ladder.

I clutched the book to my chest scared what I would find when I turned around. I could just about distinguish a figure lying skywards on the floor. I settled the cookie wrapped in cloth I had managed to sneak from the kitchens on the floor by the ladder. I heard the harsh metal clank as the chain moved. The firgure sat up and slowly, painfully slowly climbed to his feet. He had clearly become very adapt at lving in the dark, I couldn't even see his eyes as he lurked around in the shadows. I set the book down a mound of soil he had rounded down to make a table. "Who did that to you?" He asked, his voice sounded husk, like it was a struggle for him to talk.
I pointed to the left where I knew Minho would be in his pit, hands bound as he smothered my book in his klunk.

Newt stepped out of the dark. His face.... oh his poor face. His left eye was swollen shut, a big lump of purple and blue covering it. His skin looked piebald with bruises and mud, and his lip was smeared with dry blood, some flaking onto his chin. Despite the soreness, he had an evil smirk on his face. "Good that." He said, pulling on his chains as he came closer and closer. I backed off, until the chain snapped tight and his shackles pulled him back a little. His eyes were still focused on my brace, I gulped taking a deep breath, and unclasped the plastic and foam cage. I put it on the floor by the ladder, Newt's smile fell as he saw the inflammed yellow and green skin. I tried to talk but my voicebox was still shattered and I just made more abnormal sounds. He looked genuinely upset about my neck, so much that I felt like I could get near him, maybe help him comfort his pain. However I was naive, as soon as I was within reach, his shackled hands grabbed my neck, swirling me around and slamming my back into the bamboo wall, I grimaced as the wood groaned in my ears, the sticks splitering and digging into my back. His nostrils flared, he wasn't holding my neck hard enough to hurt me, but he only had to clench a little for soaring pain to rage through me, my knees shook. I looked up at the door, where the guard stood, his back to the pits oblivious to what was happening to me. Newt could kill me and no one would know until it was too late. He stunk of a ruthless body odour, and blood as the sensetive skin tore under his shackles.