Different | The Maze Runner / Newt ¹ ✓

{4.3}

Disclaimer:

I don't own the Maze Runner, but if I did, I'd add in Theo because he's my favorite ever.

-✼-

The Flare.

What was it? What did it mean? I didn't know, and it was so frustrating that I wanted to tear my hair out in clumps and scream endlessly. The frustration was eating me up. How could I have been given so many memories and not the information that came with them? What was the point?

I ran a hand through my tousled strands again, screaming out in anger at the world and kicking the door. "What the shuck does this mean?"

"You're gonna break your toes doing that," Clint commented with a hint of amusement. He stood near me, watching just in case I tried to break a hole through the wood.

"I don't care!" I shouted. Over and over I mentally cursed the Glade, the world, and especially W.I.C.K.E.D for what they had done to me. I felt like I was slowly losing my grip on who I was. What was my purpose? Why did they send me here? To freak out all the time and drive myself insane?

I took a rattling breath and clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. My legs carried me before I knew what was happening and I paced restlessly. "I hate them. I hate them so much. I want to— to hurt them in every way possible."

"Who?" Clint asked, blue eyes following me as I walked back and forth in front of him.

"W.I.C.K.E.D!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. My feet stopped moving abruptly and I narrowed my eyes at the poor Med-jack before me. "They thought they could just rip us away, to use us and experiment-"

"Dylan," Clint cut in with a deadly serious tone. He was usually so affable and light, always with a smile, but it was absent from his face this time. "What did you just say?"

A crease formed between my eyebrows. My gaze flickered to the door and back to Clint as I shifted my weight onto my other foot. "You'll have to be more specific. I say a lot of stuff."

Clint shook his head, deeply focused on what he was saying. "You called them - the Creators - Wicked."

I froze up. How could I have been so careless? I let the name slip in my cloud of anger.

Not wanting to show Clint I had terribly messed everything up for myself, I held his gaze for a long time. A heavy sigh fell from my lungs.

"Not Wicked," I explained, "W.I.C.K.E.D. It's an acronym. It stands for 'World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department.' I found it out in the Maze and by the Deadheads."

Clint's eyes widened at that information. He blinked. "Killzone. Sounds cheery."

I rolled my eyes. "Believe me, I know. But think about it- we actually have a name to call them by."

Clint shook his head again and focused his gaze on the ground. His sandy blond hair reflected the light and made it look incredibly shiny. He dragged a hand down his face and heaved a deep breath. "I don't know what to believe anymore. Our names aren't our names. The sun isn't the sun. This whole place is just a test. We're subjects in someone's stupid experiment. We're shucking lab rats!"

The last sentence was loud enough to make me jump. Clint never yelled. He was always so calm and collected, always neutral when everyone else was losing their minds. But now his voice was full of raw anger and his cheeks were blossoming with crimson color. There was an astonishing amount of fury in his eyes; the deep blue seemed to freeze to ice.