Different | The Maze Runner / Newt ¹ ✓

{4.6}

Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, and that's why I have to watch interviews instead.

-✼-

I found myself taking a step back, bumping into Newt as I did so. He placed a hand on my shoulder protectively. A deathly, still silence swept over every last Glader like words and breath had been sucked out of us. One of the scientists scribbled something on a clipboard, while another tapped a pen against their arm. They all wore pristine lab coats over white shirts and pants with gaunt expressions on their faces.

"Who are those people?" Chuck asked in a whisper that boomed throughout the area.

"The Creators," Minho answered, then promptly spat on the floor. "I'm gonna break your faces!" he screamed loudly enough that pain shot through my ears and caused me to wince. It also didn't help that he was only a foot away from me.

"What do we do?" Thomas questioned quietly. "What are they waiting on?"

"They've probably revved the Grievers back up," Newt surmised anxiously, pulling me a little closer. "They're probably coming right--"

A sudden loud, long beep cut him off. It came from all directions, powerful and forceful as it rang in my ears. I reached up to cover them. It was no use, and I retracted them after a few seconds.

"What now?" Chuck asked with fright evident in his small voice. Most heads turned to Thomas, who shrugged.

"Nothing," I replied miserably. "We can't do anything." I swallowed nervously, feeling my stomach buzz. "We're stuck."

A movement from out of the corner of my eye caused me to turn my head. The glass door against the far wall opened wide, revealing the hellish storm outside. Lightning lit up the sky with blinding white flashes; thunder crackled through the air.

My body tensed instinctively for what was to come. My heart thudded; it always seemed to be doing so, pumping blood through my veins and making my hands clammy.

I was very surprised and even a little relieved when two people came inside.

One was a woman with dull chocolate-colored hair that hung limply around her thin face. Her dark eyes seemed large, with stress lines littering the area around them. She wore white pants and a shirt of the same color with wicked on the breast pocket- no acronym, just the word in blue capital letters. There was an impassive expression on her face as she walked stiffly toward us, almost like she didn't notice us. She stopped several feet away and carefully examined us from left to right.

The other stood next to her. They wore a dark sweatshirt that swallowed most of their body up. The hood was pulled over their face, hidden by the shadows.

"Welcome back," the woman greeted without emotion. "Over two years, and so few dead. Amazing."

I felt my jaw drop and my heart pumped blood to my face, reddening it in anger. My cold fists clenched at my sides as I strained to remain calm.

Newt's grip on my shoulder tightened and his jaw locked, eyes blazing with fury and disbelief. "Excuse me?"

The lady's intimidating gaze scanned over us again until they found Newt. He slipped his hand from my shoulder to around my waist, bringing me to his side. The woman's lip twitched, almost as if she were about to display some form of emotion.

"Everything has gone according to plan, Mr. Newton," she said in that same tone of unbearable negligence. "Although we expected a few more of you to give up along the way."