Lost - Scorch Trials (♡Newt) 《Slow Updates》

Chapter 1

Cally's pov

A loud sound woke me from my sleep. My eyes shot open, and I tried to sit up, but I couldn't. For a short moment, confusion took over, not knowing where I was or why I couldn't move.
     Then I realized what was keeping me down, Newt. His arms wrapped around my waist. He wasn't holding me that tightly, but I felt weak and tired. Newt was still sleeping. He seemed calm, almost peaceful, seeing him like that, taking deep, steady breaths, calmed me down as well.
     Bang! It was back, startling me enough to actually move up from Newt's grip. A wave of pain went through my side and up my arm, reminding me of the injury I had.
     Bang!
     This time, other Gladers woke up as well. Rubbing their eyes to get the sleep out of it. The dull pounding became harder and faster. Getting more scared with the second, I shook Newt awake. 
     "What the bloody..." He started but stopped when he saw it was me who woke him. "Cally?" 
     "Something's wrong." I said right before the pounding got followed by the sound of breaking glass. This was enough to wake up almost everyone. Newt jumped out of the bed, pulling me with him. I yelped in pain from the sudden movement and reached for my side. I could see Newt was about to apologize, but before he could, Minho jumped off his bed. 
     "You've got to be kidding me!" The Asian boy exclaimed. "Can't we go one night without some shuckin' emergency?" No one answered his rhetorical question, knowing that the shank who dared would get some kind of insult flung at their heads by a pissed off Minho. 
     I wasn't paying attention to Minho, though. My eyes had found the source of the broken glass. The window in the wall closest to us. A big blue curtain was still covering the opening, but the glass was scattered over the ground. Instead of a dull banging, it now sounded like someone was hitting wood against metal. More Gladers had realized where it had come from and were now all staring at the curtain as something moved behind it. Minho was the one who decided he wanted to know what was going on.
     "Minho, don't." Newt started, but his friend ignored him. The boy slowly inched forward until he could grab the blue fabric, and with one, hard jerk pulled the curtain loose. It fell down together with the white rod it had been hanging from. A bright light filled the room, making me shield my eyes.
     More screams erupted from around me as one by one, the guys looked at the window. When my eyes finally were used to the light, I was able to see for myself what the panic was about.
     My breath hitched inside my throat, and I covered my mouth as I stared with wide eyes at the person on the other side of the broken window. If you could even call it a person. I think he was a he, but it was hard to make out. His with scars filled skin was paper thin and burned, his hair was entirely gone instead there were patches of green moss growing on his skull. There was a big slash across his face, a festering wound where you could see his teeth through. But the worst part was his eyes, bloodshot and wide. Crazed and desperate they looked into the room.
     I had never been this happy to have been locked inside a room with bars on the windows.
     More and more noise clawed its way into the room. The Gladers were freaking out, running around, screaming and yelling.
     "Kill me." The man in the window yelled at us, his voice raw. Chaos erupted as more windows broke, and more people appeared behind the remaining bars, looking even worse than the one in front of me. "Kill me! I'm a Crank! Kill me!" I shuddered. I know I should've been scared, but I wasn't. It all felt so surreal, as if I wasn't really there at all. 
     While Newt, Minho, and the others tried to find the soldiers who had helped us before or a way out, I took a few steps closer to the man behind the bars. "What happened to you?" I asked, slightly tilting my head with furrowed eyebrows. 
     The man's eyes locked with mine, falling quiet as he seemed to think about my words. He mimicked me, tilting his head as well. "Flare. The damn Flare..." The man mumbled, a moment of clarity in his eyes. "It turned me... Please... It hurts..." The men reached through a small hole in between the bars.
     I shouldn't have done it, I know that, but I wasn't thinking. I stepped closer and lifted my hand as well. My eyes were fixated on the eyes of the poor man in front of me. Just before our fingers could touch, Newt grabbed my arms. He forcefully turned me and dragged me a few feet away. The sudden movement seemed to have snapped the man back, his eyes burned with hatred as he jumped at the bars, grabbing them and yelling at all of us. He didn't even notice the glass cutting through the thin skin of his hands. 
     "Bloody hell, Cally. What were you thinking?" Newt snapped at me, I didn't respond, my eyes still on the Crank. At least that's what he called himself.
     "Cally?" Newt tried again, louder this time, but without raising his voice.
     "Yeah," I shook my head, trying to get rid of the odd feeling inside me that made it hard to focus. "I- I don't know... I just..." When my eyes met Newt's I saw the fear in them. This did help wake me up. 
     "Don't go near them." He commanded. Normally, I wouldn't take a command like that very well, but this time, I just nodded. I was too confused and tired to care about it.
     "Newt!" Minho's voice sounded over the racket all around, getting our attention. He was standing with Frypan and Thomas before we joined them. "It's open." And indeed, Minho had managed to open one of the previously locked doors. The other room was even darker than the one we slept in had been. A tunnel of pure darkness. 
     "Let's go." Thomas spoke up. There was a quiver in his voice, but also a strong determination. 
     "Wait," Frypan spoke up before any of us could walk into the room. "We sure we wanne go out there? Maybe the door was locked for a reason." 
     "Of course it was," I spoke up. "To keep us in, see what we'll do." I didn't care about the harshness in my voice. The others might've believed we had been rescued, but for me, all of this was just confirmation that we hadn't. 
     "Cally," Thomas started. "We're out of the Maze." 
    I glared at the boy, "and right into the next shucking test." 
     "Whatever," Minho said, stepping forward to stand next to Newt in front of the door. "We can't wait for the loonies to get in. Come on."
     "Those freaks aren't gonna break through the window bars any time soon." Frypan responded. "Let's just think about this." 
     "Time for thinking's done," Minho said. "Besides, you should've spoken up before we blasted the lock to bits, Slinthead. Too late now." 
     I could see the defeat in Fry's eyes. "I hate it when you're right." 
     No one moved as we stared at the room ahead, the inky darkness staring back at us. I had a bad feeling about all of this, but I figured I was going to have a bad feeling about almost everything that was about to happen next. 
    "Shuck it," Minho broke our silence. "I'll go first." 
     The young man didn't wait for a response as he walked into the room. Newt and I locked eyes, there was a slight hesitation in his right before he entered the room. Newt got followed by Thomas.
     I looked back at Frypan. "You coming?" 
     But Fry shook his head. "No thanks, you guys go and get yourself killed. I'm good." 
     I shrugged and followed; hands stretched out in front of me. The moment I entered the room, a strong stank filled my nostrils. Something I hadn't smelled before and something in me told me I didn't want to know what it came from.
     Step by step, I got further into the room, only stopping when Minho's yelped and frightened me. "Whoa, be careful. Something... weird's hanging from the ceiling."
     I took a deep breath, regretting it immediately because of the slight tingle I got on my tongue from the distinct smell in the air. It was hard to adjust my eyes to the darkness. The only ray of light came from the room behind us, which didn't really help a lot. Somewhere on my right, I could hear something squeak over the floor, followed by a grown from Newt. "Table," his voice spoke up. "Watch out for tables." 
     I bumped into something. Not a table. It was softer and hanging in front of me. I realized it must have been what Minho had warned us about. Focusing on the thing in front of me, I forced my eyes to make out shapes. "Does anyone remember where the light switches are?" I asked when I couldn't make out more than shadows. 
     "That's where I'm headin'." Newt responded, his accent sounding through. "I swear I remember seeing a set of 'em here somewhere." 
     While Newt tried to find the switches, I mustered my courage and tried to feel what was hanging in front of me. It was big and heavy when I tried to push it, but it did give in a little, letting it sway backwards. I was certain I felt cloth. It could've been a blanket wrapped around something or clothes or maybe a curtain. Whatever it was, I couldn't place it. Anything I could think of wasn't logical to hang in the middle of a room. Not that anything that had been happening so far had been logical.
     I led my hands move down the object, the texture changed to something leather like, but only for a moment.  The leather formed some kind of strap that was attached to it, maybe to keep the cloth in place? My hands moved lower, and I immediately pulled them away again. I had touched something wet and sticky, a metallic smell became clearer when I moved my hands higher, trying to see what it was. 
     "Found it!" Newt shouted. There were a few clicks before the room filled itself with a bright, white light. I squeezed my eyes shut and brought my arms up for the second time today. The light blinded me for a few moments, and I felt tempted to rub my eyes, but remembered the unknown liquid on my hands and decided against it. I could hear Minho say something, clearly repulsed by whatever it was he saw.
     The first thing I saw after frantically blinking to help my eyes adjust were my hands. The sticky substance was red. Blood. Of course, it had to be blood. The metallic smell made more sense now. The sight of it reminded me of Ezra, his bloodied, lifeless body lying in my lap. 
     Something bumped into me from the front. It was the thing that was hanging there. Apparently, Thomas had been right in front of me and had knocked the thing backward without knowing.
     I let out a short scream of terror as I recognized the thing in front of me. It was David. The man who had helped me, patched up my wound and had given me the salve. He hung there, upside down. Blood dripped out of a wound on his face, it had been cut on the exact same line as his scar had been, right through his eyeball as some kind of sadistic joke. 
     I took some steps back and looked away from David, only to see that the entire room was filled with bodies hanging from the ceiling. Most had been hung from the neck, resulting in purple skin and bulking, dead eyes. Others had been less fortunate, like David, their throats had been cut, and they had been hung to bleed out like pigs.
     My stomach twisted, I couldn't take it. The people who had helped us were dead. Then maybe they had actually saved us? And payed the price for it? I tried to rationalize, but I couldn't cope. I collapsed to the ground and threw up whatever I had left inside of me from the three points of pizza I had forced into my system the night before.