Mummy (The Maze Runner X Physco)

Chapter Eleven Y/n

I didn't see Newt or the red-headed woman for the rest of the day, even if I had heard talking and moving around, I had heard Newt talking with his mother but I didn't want to call out or anything, frankly, I liked being alone. it gave me the time to think and plan. I got off the bed seeing how far my chain would let me go, and it would allow me to most of the room, I went to the wardrobe seeing the dresses, all so beautiful, handmade it seemed, on wooden hangers. I went to the chest of drawers seeing the bras, panties, socks, and various other little things that were of no use to me. I looked around at the toys, none of them was sharp or heavy enough that I could use. I imagine anything like that the red-headed woman took away from Newt. The only thing that perhaps I could break a window with was... his train, and I didn't want to do that not if I wanted him to trust me, not if I wanted to take him with me to get him some help, I ran my hand along the gash in the trains wood even with the bad paint over it I could feel, the gashes were like nails as if someone with hands smaller than mine had scratched it, clawed it with all the strength they had in this world. As if it was their last bit of strength to try and fight.

But it made me think, who on this earth would ever want to fight Newt? He's the sweetest, most peaceful and innocent man I had ever met. That boy couldn't harm a fly, why would anyone have that much fight against him? Perhaps he was getting playful. Perhaps a little too playful for whoever's liking.

I went to the bed, nothing was detachable at all, not even a bed knob. I looked under seeing more wooden boxes of toys but nothing strong enough or sharp enough to be of use to me. I pushed one away trying to see more but as I did I noticed a floorboard shift. I moved the board and it bounced as if loose, with no nails to hold it into the floor. I pushed it open seeing something below in the darkness. I slipped my hand into the wooden board scratching my hand as I did, My hand met something I didn't know what, it was caked in dust, I pulled it out of the hole and brought it to the light. It was a book.

I took it blowing off the dust from this little blue book, the pages thick from the ink that burdened every page. My curiosity flooded me and I knew I had to read it.