A bang. A groan. And then nothing. These were the last things I heard before I came here. I do not even know where here is. Someday maybe. But not now.
The room was dark. It was quiet. And it was cold. Klunk, so, so cold.
Newt opened his eyes. This didn't seem to be the Scorch. Thomas shot him there, right? Wasn't he dead? Everything was still blurry.
He tried to stand which wasn't easy with his limp.
This place looked like... What did it look like? It was to bloody dark in here to see a thing! Newt hopped around like some kind of klunkhead and bumped into a wall. Wait, a wall? Then, this must be a room!
And every room has an way out, no?
Three days. Three days and Newt is still stuck in this bloody place. Well, maybe not exactly three days cause he lost track of time.
Newt's starting to get jacked. It could be the room. It could be the crank-virus. Newt simply didn't know. It could also be the fact that hasn't eaten at all.
Well, at least he could see again. Someone must've turned the lights on because he could see again. It looked like a giant forest, but without any animals or food. Great.
Newt did found a little stream of water and managed to make fire to keep himself warm. But food? Nope.
God, what was he missing Frypan's food. And Minho's dry humor. And Alby's bloody annoying voice. And Tommy's cluelesness!
Newt missed all of his fellow Gladers and now he's here alone and doesn't know what to do.
On the fourth day Newt woke up and found a little note next to him.
~Look up~
When he looked up, he saw a leather backpack hanging a few metres above him. It was stuffed! Hopefully with food!
Newt tried to climb in the tree where the bag hung. While he tried to climb,
he grabbed a weird looking branch and fell out the tree.
This wasn't a branch... It was his bo! You know, his walking-stick-thingy.
Well, he could walk decently again without worrying to much about his limp.
Newt climbed again. He got the backpack and went back down.
Holy klunk! There was a ridiculous amount of dried food in here!
And pure water!
And a map!
A map?!
I was shocked by the shapes. It looked almost exactly like the Maze.
Well, al least his part. The ap had five big sections that kind of came together in the middle. It had a diamondshaped hole in the center of it.
Newt looked better at the formation of the trees. Straight lines. Maze-shaped.
He took a closer look at the map. Someone draw cirkles on it.
In a sloppy handwriting, Newt could just make up some names:
Maia?
Draco?
Rue?
Lilly?
Ian?
And Newt (of course, his name too).
Who were these? Names of other survivers of the Maze?
Infected kids, like him?
Dead teens, like him,
Wait, is he even really dead?
Why were the trees turning around him? Ugh, Newt needed to sit down.
Why does he have to be locked up all the time? Couldn't he just live his life like a normal teenager? Go to school, play sports with his friends, go on a date with his girlfrien (which he has never had).
He'll probably just do what these selfish people want him to do. Search the people on this map.
He so headed to the Grieverhole, the place where Ian and Rue were.
