Hey ya'll!! Hope you enjoy my story! Please review!

I do not own The Maze Runner (unfortunately) or any of the characters!

I only own my spin off from the original, and my main charcter, Sam.

Sam's POV

Aching. As I gained consciousness, the only thing, no, the only feeling I had was a constant ache throughout my body. My eyelids felt heavy, my brain felt like someone had ran a jackhammer along inside it. I willed my eyes to open, squinting as I took in my surroundings. I was in a ... cage? The lack of light made it difficult to see. No, not just any cage, a moving cage! This realization sent me jumping up, in a blind panic, as all my senses came washing over me in a wave. I could hear the screeching, whistling sound of iron on cable, smell the mildew and rust. I swayed on my feet, grasping the walls for balance. The wrought-iron cage was careening up, like an elevator, towards what seemed like a forever blanket of blackness. I could barely make out the walls, or what was above me, where this cage was hauling me. Sinking down to my knees, I tried to think. Where am I? What the hell is this? Questions spun around my head, going unanswered. And then, with startling revelation, why the hell can't I remember a thing? My name? Where I'm from? Who am I? Panic coursed through me once again as I tried to rack my brain, even just for my own damn name. Tears welled in my eyes as I realized I hadn't the slightest idea.

With a groan and then a clonk, the rising room halted- jolting me back to reality. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the instant wave of lightheadiness that washed over me.

A loud clank rang out above, startling me once again. I drew in a shuddering breath as I looked up, trying to see what had caused the sound. A straight line of light appeared across the ceiling of the room, and I watched as it expanded. A heavy grating sound revealed double sliding doors being forced open. After so long in darkness, the light stabbed my eyes, forcing me to squint and cringe, my hands covering my face, to shield myself from the painful new-found light.

I heard noises above—voices—and panic swept through me, for the what.. hundredth time today?

"Look at that shank."

"At least all you shuck faces can't call me Greenie anymore, that's this shank now."

I slowly removed my hands from my face, once again squinting towards the light and those who were speaking. The voices were odd, tinged with echo; some of the words were completely foreign—others felt familiar.

"Bloody hell!"

"Oh shit!"

"What? What is it?"

The voices became panicked, confused.

"It's a girl!"

"A girl?!?"

"Let me see!"

"But we've never gotten a girl before!"

At their startled voices, I willed my eyes to cooperate, trying to see who the hell was talking to me, or more like about me. At first, I could only make out shifting shadows, but they soon turned into the shapes of bodies—people bending over the hole in the ceiling, looking down at me, pointing.

And then, as if the lens of a camera had sharpened its focus, the faces cleared. They were boys, all of them—some young, some older. I didn't know what I'd really expected to see, but certainly not freaking teenagers!

"Damn, she's gorgeous"

"Good that"

"How old is she?"

"I call dibs"

"Slim it" a loud voice commanded.

My eyes darted over to the one who had just spoke, a tall lanky boy with shaggy blond hair and an odd accent. He was already standing on the edge of the pit, and with a graceful jump, he dropped into the cage with me. He looked at me with a mix of confusion and wonder on his face, "Your a girl".

"No shit Sherlock," I growled, immediately backing away from him, fists curling at my sides automatically. I didn't know who the hell these boys were, or even who the heck I was, and was in no means a kind, understanding mood. If I had to fight my way out of whatever shit I had somehow got myself into, I would.

He looked taken aback, startled, his eyes wide. The other boys laughed, one snickered, "Damn, she's fiesty too. I like that".

"I said slim it, ya slintheads!" The blonde boy glared up towards the others. They immediately quieted down.

Then he turned his attention back to me, "Ignore them. Their just a bunch of buggin' shuck faces. You got nothin' to worry about kid, no one here is gonna hurt you" he talked in a low, smooth voice, holding both hands up in front of him to show me he meant no harm.

"Who the hell are you? Where the hell am I? And why can't I remember my freaking name?" My voice rose with each question, my eyes flickering wildly between the boy in front of me, and the boys standing above me. I kept a close eye on them all, ready to take off or fight if need be.

His face spread into a charming smile,

"The name's Newt. Your in what we call the Glade. As far as your name goes, well, you've got a lot to learn, shank. But that'll come later. Let's just get ya out of this ole' box here, alright?"

My eyes scanned Newt suspiciously, checking for any reason not to trust him on this. I did want to get out of this stinking box, and figure out what the hell was going on. I nodded my head, "Fine".

Newt flashed another smile, "Great, now this shank here is Minho," he said, pointing up to a thick, heavily muscled Asian kid with short cropped black hair, his tight shirtsleeves rolled up to show off his biceps, "he'll pull you out."

Minho smiled down at me, reaching into the box, his hand outstretched. I eyed him warily, but still crept forward, until I was able to reach him, grasping his arm with both hands as he hauled me up and out of the box. Then he reached back down to help Newt out as well.

Once my feet hit solid ground, I spun around in a circle, with I'm sure a completely bewildered expression on my face. The other kids snickered and stared, but I didn't even care. There had to be at least fifty of them, their clothes smudged and sweaty as if they'd been hard at work, all shapes and sizes and races, their hair of varying lengths. I suddenly felt dizzy, my eyes flickering between the boys and the bizarre place in which I've found myself.

We stood in a vast courtyard several times the size of a football field, surrounded by four enormous walls made of gray stone and covered in spots with thick ivy. The walls had to be hundreds of feet high and formed a perfect square around them, each side split in the exact middle by an opening as tall as the walls themselves that, from what I could see, led to passages and long corridors beyond.

"Welcome to the Glade, greenie."