Hello everyone! So... this is my first FanFiction and I gotta say... I'm really excited! First of all, I must warn you, English is NOT my first language, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes.

Second of all, I absolutely LOVE Maze Runner! And most of all, I love Newt. I've had this plot in my head for so long and well, for a long time I've read lots of stories that I've enjoyed so much, and after a lot of thought I decided that it was my turn to write, and to see how far I could get.

ALSO! Anything that you recognize, it -obviously- doesn't belong to me. I'll probably use both, the movie and the book as a reference.

IMPORTANT! This first part is just like the first chapters of the book, so all the italics are the parts that come from the book; feel free to skip all of those.

That being said, I hope you like it.

Remember to review, any comments are welcome.


Prologue


He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air.

Metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the floor beneath him. He fell down at the sudden movement and shuffled backward on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. His back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he hit the corner of the room. Sinking to the floor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his eyes would soon adjust to the darkness.

With another jolt, the room jerked upward like an old lift in a mine shaft.

Harsh sounds of chains and pulleys, like the workings of an ancient steel factory, echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls with a hollow, tinny whine. The lightless elevator swayed back and forth as it ascended, turning the boy's stomach sour with nausea; a smell like burnt oil invaded his senses, making him feel worse. He wanted to cry, but no tears came; he could only sit there, alone, waiting.

My name is Thomas, he thought.

That … that was the only thing he could remember about his life.

The room continued its ascent, swaying; Thomas grew immune to the ceaseless rattling of the chains that pulled him upward. A long time passed. Minutesstretched into hours, although it was impossible to know for sure because every second seemed an eternity. No. He was smarter than that. Trusting his instincts, he knew he'd been moving for roughly half an hour.

Strangely enough, he felt his fear whisked away like a swarm of gnats caught in the wind, replaced by an intense curiosity. He wanted to know where he was and what was happening.

With his head pounding, he scrambled on his knees and started to crawl, hoping to find an exit.

Nothing.

From what it seemed, it was a perfect square. Almost like being on a box. Just as he was about to return to his corner, he felt something. There. It was small and cold.

A flash of a red light helped him to see better.

It was a hand.

And its owner was unconscious.

The girl -he noticed- was laying on her side, opposite from him. Her long hair covering her face.

For a moment, he felt a wave of panic rushing through him like heat. Was she even alive? It was the soft movement that indicated that she was breathing that calmed him down.

What happened to her? He had a dread feeling of seeing her in there. Like she didn't belong there.

Suddenly, the room stopped moving with a halt making him fall on the floor, nearly crushing his companion.

A minute passed. Two. He looked in every direction but saw only darkness; he felt along the walls again, searching for a way out. But there was nothing, only the cool metal. He groaned in frustration; his echo amplified through the air, like the haunted moan of death. It faded, and silence returned. He screamed, called for help, pounded on the walls with his fists.

Nothing.

"Somebody, help!"

He moved back to the now familiar femenine figure. Was there a way out?

A loud clank rang out above him and he sucked in a startled breath as he looked up. A straight line of light appeared across the ceiling of the room, and Thomas watched as it expanded. A heavy grating sound revealed double sliding doors being forced open. After so long in darkness, the light stabbed his eyes; he looked away, covering his face with both hands.

He heard noises above—voices—and fear squeezed his chest.

"Look at that shank."

"How old is he?"

"Looks like a klunk in a T-shirt."

"You're the klunk, shuck-face."

"Dude, it smells like feet down there!"

"Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Greenie."

"Ain't no ticket back, bro."

"Slim it!" A loud voice came over the rest making everything grow silent. "What... is that?"

A figure jumped into the box making Thomas jump back.

"It's a girl." The voice said on a thick accent.

Silence. Then a lot of voices rang at the same time making Thomas wince.

"A girl?"

"I got dibs!"

"What's she looks like?"

"How old is she?"

"Two Greenies?!"

He felt a sudden anger at the voices. What was wrong with them? It was a girl, yes. But couldn't they see the state she was in? Thomas turned to the boy that had jumped in. He was rather tall, with blonde hair that came to his shoulders and a square jaw. He stood there, looking confused.

Something triggered inside of Thomas, like waking him up. "Please, help her."

The blonde one looked at him and nodded almost to himself.

"Slim it!" He hissed at the boys.

Someone lowered some ropes, and Thomas helped the other guy to get the still unconscious body out of there. Finally, someone lowered two ropes from above, the end of each tied into a big loop.

Thomas hesitated, then stepped into it with his right foot and clutched the rope as he was yanked toward the sky. Hands reached down, lots of hands, grabbing him by his clothes, pulling him up. The world seemed to spin, a swirling mist of faces and color and light. A storm of emotions wrenched his gut, twisted and pulled; he wanted to scream, cry, throw up. The chorus of voices had grown silent.

"What happened to her?" The same blonde boy asked, and it took him a moment to realize that the question was directed to him.

"I-I... I don't know. I woke up and sh-she was like that." He stammered out, never taking his eyes out of the body that was on the grass. She seemed familiar... and so out of place. The dread came back to him.

"You know her?"

He blinked. "N-no," He lied. "I can't remember anything." That much wasn't a lie, he thought relieved. Then panic hit him full force, why couldn't he remember anything?

"You sure?" This time, another boy asked. He had an air of autority around him and stood there with a frown. His dark skin covered in sweat.

Thomas nodded.

"Med-jacks!"

Thomas wondered what that word meant—he knew he'd heard it before—but then he was abruptly knocked aside. Two older boys were pushing their way through the crowd—one was tall with a buzz cut, his nose the size of a fat lemon. The other was short and actually had gray hair already conquering the black on the sides of his head. Thomas could only hope they'd make some sense of everything.

"So what do we do with her?" the taller one asked, his voice much higher pitched than Thomas expected.

"How should I know?" The same boy with the frown asked. "You two shanks are the Med-jacks—figure it out."

Med-jacks, Thomas repeated in his head, a light going off. They must be the closest thing they have to doctors. The short one was already on the ground, kneeling beside the girl, feeling for her pulse and leaning over to listen to her heartbeat.

"Who said Clint had first shot at her?" someone yelled from the crowd. There were several barks of laughter. "I'm next!"

Anger shot out again. She was barely alive!

"If anybody touches this girl," He heard someone said, "you're gonna spend the night sleepin' with the Grievers in the Maze. Banished, no questions. Ain't nobody better touch her! Nobody!"

The med-jacks carried the girl to what it looked like a house-building.

The dark-skined boy was looking at Thomas.

"Nice to meet ya, shank," the boy said. "Welcome to the Glade."


Should I go on? If I do, next Chapter will be in the girl's point of view, and hopefully I'll get more time to check the chapters and correct as much as I can. Review! Maybe 5 reviews?

W.I.C.K.E.D. Is good.

-FireOfInspiration