Remembrance (Newt X Reader)

Chapter 7~ Don't Die

 Thomas had come early that morning to wake you — though there really wasn't any need since you had hardly gotten a wink of sleep that night, too worried and excited to sit still long enough to fall asleep. As soon as you heard footsteps sound, you'd slipped quietly out of bed, and let him lead you back the way he'd come.  

 "You're sure Alby approved of this?" Minho asked skeptically, as he, you, and Thomas made your way across the deserted Glade, towards the old shack that housed the Runner's equipment. Thomas shot you a glare, but you ignored him and scoffed instead.

 "Of course. He told me I could come out for a day, and prove myself." You hoped you sounded more confident than you felt.

 "Alrighty then, as long as you're sure you can handle it." The Runner pulled out a set of keys and began to rifle through them, stopping when he found the one he was looking for, and reaching out to shove it into the rusty padlock that kept the door locked. It swung wide open with a click, and you hesitated before stepping in.

 The room was a pool of darkness, and you could barely see three feet in front of you.

"Take this," Minho called from somewhere in the room. You heard the whoosh of something being tossed in the air, then blinding pain, as the flying projectile smacked you in the head.   "Ow!" You hissed, bringing a hand up to caress the throbbing spot on your forehead. "What the hell Minho!" The boy sniggered, and muttered a quick sorry, not sounding at all sincere.

 "It's a torch," Thomas's voice sounded behind you, and you felt a tap on your shoulder. He brought it down to your hands, making sure you had a firm grasp on it before letting go.

 "Thanks," you muttered him gratefully, feeling for the switch. You found it, and pushed, flooding the room with light.

 "That's better." Minho turned the second one on and brought it up to his face. "I'll get your supplies. Thomas, you take her to pick out a few knives."

You felt Thomas's hand on your shoulder again, and you brought the beam around to shine on the ground in front of you, pausing a second to push a few stacked boxes to the side.

 "Put it over here," Thomas told you, pointing to a spot on the ground a couple meters away, revealing a small trapdoor that had been hidden in the far corner. You followed your guide over and took hold of the handle alongside him — straining and pulling as hard as you could.

 "Hurry up, ya shanks!" Minho called. "We need to get going!"

The door popped open, and Thomas lowered himself slowly down the rickety, old set of stairs with your torch, motioning for you to stay up.

 "Take the boxes I hand up to you," he instructed. There was some shuffling, then a large crate was shoved in your face. You grasped it and slid it up and over onto the floor beside you. You repeated this two more times before Thomas reappeared, and helped you rip off the lid to the first box.

 You aimed the weak light of your torch inside, and your eyes widened a little as your gaze landed on of the many glinting daggers.

 Some were older, and covered with rust — and some looked brand new, reflecting the light back at you like a mirror with their polished blades. "Pick a couple," Thomas told you, reaching over to take the light from you again.

 You ended up choosing one short knife, with a slightly rusted blade, and a rubber handle, and a longer sword-like one, with a metal grip. Minho had given you a pack, filled with food, spare clothes, among other things. He'd told you snidely the spare clothes were boy's since you were to be the first ever girl Runner. You'd just taken the supplies and shot him a fierce glare.