Hey, listen! This chapter is absolute garbage and shit! So, if you don't want your eyes to get burned, leave now! I've decided that there might be some weirdo Janson and freaked out Thomas—Okay, fine, a lot of creepy Janson and spooked Thomas just kinda there. I'm guilty!

Anyways, I suck at writing, my plots are messed up, and there are going to be creepy vibes in this and absolutely multiple chapters from here on out. So, this chapter is just Creepy Janson and Poor Thomas.

Also, very long chapter. Get ready for a lot of reading.

Well, time to get started!

I'm sitting on the same bed Janson had put me on, with the Sand Twins on my left and right. The female on my right has a smile that is obviously fake and the male on the left doesn't even try, having a sadistic grin on his face as he sat down on a chair. Janson had left before, talking about meeting my friends or something, but I couldn't concentrate on what he was talking about.

"Hey, Thomas!" The female gave a "friendly" smile, going for the "sunshine and rainbows" kind of personality, though from her sparkling v-neck black dress that went to her ankles I could tell that she was working for WCKD long enough to become trusted personnel. The male was similarly dressed, with an ironed 3 piece suit, but I shouldn't focus on what they were wearing, I had to focus on how to get out of here. "How are you feeling?"

I couldn't respond in words, because those red cracks in my mouth were still very sore, so I manuevered my right hand to give her the middle finger. Her eye twitched, but she still kept up that sweet facade of hers, which made me want to say "Fuck you!", but I didn't. Because my mouth was sore, and I didn't want to appear weak in front of these two.

Her blond hair shone from the bright lights as she leaned over me, looking straight at my mouth. "Oh, is your mouth giving you trouble? Mr. Janson told me that your mouth was all messed up. Open your mouth, Thomas!" I rolled my eyes and gave her the middle finger again, but complied anyways since by the way the male was grinning I assumed that Janson allowed them to "take appropriate measures" should I fail to comply.

"Oh, damn," the girl muttered, touching the cracks with her plastic gloves on, a hiss escaping my throat whenever she touched the cracks or opened my mouth a bit further. "Look at this." Her brother(?) eyed my mouth as well and whistled. "It got worse. Do you think it's moderate or severe anemia?"

"I don't know how severe, but most definitely a deficiency in hemoglobin, since his tongue is pale." The girl agreed, prodding at my mouth a bit further before finally ending my torture by pulling her hand out and letting me close my mouth. God, that was pure torture.

Then the male pulled down my eyelid, the girl taking out a -was it a clipboard?- and feverishly writing something down with what I think is a pencil. The male would make a remark like "His lower eyelid is yellow and his face is pale," or "His hands are like ice!" She wrote down whatever he said, her sweet and cheery facade disappearing.

Then he started asking me questions, his sister(?) prepared to write down whatever I said. "How have you been feeling as of late? Did you have headaches or bouts of dizzyness lately?" I nodded. "Were they frequent?" Another nod.

Only the sounds of the monitor and scratches of pencil on paper reached my ears, other than the male and female asking me questions. There were no footsteps or voices outside of the room, doors weren't opening or closing and not even the sounds of the engines distracted me from what was happening inside the room. And I know I was still on the Berg, for my clothes were still dirty and ripped, and I could see my hands were still grimy, and the room was still the same.

"Are you feeling dizzy now?" I made a so-so gesture. I wasn't about to go vomit or anything, but the room was spinning a bit. Then the female joined in, saying, "Has your skin been crumbling, more of your hair falling out than it should be?" I nodded and then shook my head, which the girl recorded.

She asked me one more question. "Have you felt any better lately?" I took a moment to think, moving my legs to get rid of that stupid crawling sensation. Then I made the so-so gesture again, not quite sure whether or not there was any change. "Hmm, I see."

The girl dusted off her dress before walking out, her high heels that I didn't really notice before clacking against the ground. "Come on, we've got all we need." The male nodded before following her, straightening his tie and the wrinkles on his clothes as he left. They left at last.

Then the silence was all that was left in the room with me. The lights felt too bright for such a lonely place, the room so blank, with the clock taking its sweet, sweet time before saying "Hey, a minute has passed!" The monitor was so annoying in how it was constantly changing pace, speeding up and slowing down, pausing every now and then before continuing.

More time passed—I think, like, an hour passed before anyone finally opened the door. When it opened a wave of noises bounced off the walls, and I could hear the engine humming and the chatter of soldiers pasing by before the door shut again, cutting off any noise from outside. The person was Janson, walking in with one of WXKD's syringes.

"Hey, Tommy." I wanted to snap at him, but I could hardly move my legs, much less talk, so I just glared at him. "Your friends would like to see you." My friends? Janson chuckled at how my eyes widened in delight before I realized that there was obviously a catch to this.

"But I don't feel like sharing." He sat down in the chair that the male Sand Twin had been sitting in earlier, turning on the syringe and fiddling with it before looking up at me. "Especially when you're like this." I attempted to turn away from Janson's hand, but I didn't exactly have the energy left for that action, so I shut my eyes and clenched my law, shivering at the touch of the hand that would murder without a second thought. At the hand that had held a gun aimed at me, pulling the trigger and getting ready to fire.

"So this is how it's going to work." He pulled his hand away from my cheek, and I let out the breath I was holding. "Every time you do as I say, you get one extra minute with your friends. However, every time you don't listen to me, I take away five minutes of your time with them."

What?! I clenched my fists and breathed deeply, trying my best not to act upon my anger, for he could change his mind at any time. But his smug face wasn't helping my situation at all.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you won't have a problem with that, Tommy." He began running a hand through my hair, and I froze, remembering the last hallucination I had. Janson said something under his breath that I couldn't hear, but I didn't ask, fearing the response Janson would give me.

The hand in my hair left, and I let out a silent sigh. "You've always been such a good boy with me, haven't you?" That smile that Janson gave me sent a chill down my spine. I licked my lips and was telling myself not to respond to anything he says.

"Tommy..." Something in his eyes was just unsettling. I couldn't quite define what it was, but it put me on edge, and I didn't like it. "The world likes to play with you, doesn't it?"

Confused by his words, I tilt my head to one side. "I was trying to take you back to harvest your blood, then trying to kill you, and now I am trying to keep you alive. Isn't that just funny, Tommy?" Trying to hold myself back, I clench my jaw and ball my hand up into a fist, biting my lip as well.

"Don't call me Tommy." Yelping in pain, I can taste a hint of blood in my mouth, but I couldn't hold it back. Then Janson frowned, as if I didn't get the joke.

He grabbed my wrist and squeezed, hard. It felt like he was going to break my wrist, and I tried to scream, but no noise came out of my throat. "I can call you whatever I want, Tommy. Next time you say anything like that, I will make sure that your friends won't be able to see you again."

"But you said—!" The words came out as a hoarse whisper, and I had to bite my bottom lip to keep myself from yelling out in pain that erupted from the sore cracks.

"Oh, you'll still be able to meet them." Janson's annoying smile morphed into a sadistic smirk, his eyes holding a crazy look to them. I yanked at my wrists, hoping that Janson would let go of my wrist. "They just won't be able to see you, or anything. You want to know why, Tommy?"

I shook my head, wanting nothing more than for Janson to stop. "I'll rip their eyes out so they can't look at you ever again. Maybe I'll even make them mute so they can't talk to you."

Tears were welling up in my eyes, and my voice cracked as I whispered, "Stop, please." The grip on my wrist loosened, and Janson seemed to have just noticed how much he was scaring me.

"I didn't mean to say all of those things, Tommy." Fingers gently rubbed where he was grabbing my wrist, soothing my fear a bit as he dabbed a swab of cotton on a spot of my arm before putting the capsule against my arm. The needle pierced my skin and injected something into my bloodstream, and I didn't have any voice left to protest. "We're almost there, Tommy. Almost there."

The darkness was there again. Hands were chasing me again, and there was no Teresa or Sand Twins in sight. I felt better than I ever did after I escaped WCKD, and, feeling so good, I danced around the hands in the maze, staying away from them with ease. Smiling, everything felt perfect as I saw the exit to the maze and ran for it, running out to the grass and the trees. Nothing could beat this feeling.

I woke up with bandages slapped all over my arms, and an IV drop connected to my left wrist. There was no monitor tracking my heartbeat, and as I blinked off the fatigue leftover from however long that sleep was I realized that I felt fine. No headaches, no sore or dry mouth, my tongue felt normal, no cold forever haunting my hands and feet, nothing. I felt normal.

Of course, the room had changed from the Berg. The bed was big enough for at most two people, not too wide but not so small that only one person could ever fit, and the floor had some sort of fluffy brown material. A carpet, my head supplied, and that word felt so weird and yet normal on my tongue. Carpet.

A single lightbulb lit up the room, which had green walls and a bright blue ceiling with some white spots that resembled clouds. The bed sheets were white, and what my mind is calling a mattress was so bouncy that I just wanted to jump on it. Yet I chose not to, for I had just noticed something wrapped around my neck and waist. Not only that, but as I was sitting upright I could hear chains moving and felt my heart drop.

A chain was attached to the floor, close to the bathroom and snaked its way up to the bed and curled around me, and as I dreaded ended by something wrapped around my waist and was locked in place. I tugged on the material, pulling on it harder and harder, but to no avail. All I got from it was the knowledge that the material was tough and flexible, not to mention itchy and uncomfortable.

I sat on the bed just staring at the clock with nothing to do after 3 hours(?) or so. I already ran about a bit, testing the chain and trying to break it, all that crap. The door slid suddenly open, and I jumped—well, more like flinched violently. I groaned mentally as I saw him standing in the doorway, smiling at me. "Hi, Tommy."

The door slid shut behind him, and silence fell over the room. Janson didn't say anything, merely sitting down on the bed beside me and staring at me with that same look in his eye that I just don't know how to explain. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I tried to get up, but Janson just pulled me back down on the bed and didn't let go. "Stay."

I almost snapped back at him, but then I thought about my friends and bit my lip, trying so hard not to snap at Janson as he traced something on my arm. "Tommy, do you hate me?" I snorted before I could catch myself and those nasty butterflies started to flap about again, but Janson didn't seem to care about that. "I see."

His hand yanked on my arm, and I yelped as I was pulled onto Janson's lap. "What are you doing?!" I yanked my arm out of Janson's grasp, but he just wrapped his arms around me and wouldn't let go. "Let me go!"

"Say anything more, and I'll personally cut off one of your friend's arms and tell them that you did that to them." All of my muscles froze. Cut off their arm? I couldn't be a brat and have any of my friends lose an arm, so I let my muscles go limp after a minute of tense silence and didn't do anything to break out of Janson's hold after that.

He snuggled up against my back and I tried my best not to arch away from him, yet I couldn't help but arch at least a bit. Janson tightened his hold and forced my back to push up against him, and I bristled, feeling the urge to run. Preparing myself to speak, I swallowed down a ball of neeves and opened my mouth. "Janson?"

Janson made a noise that sounded like yes, so I continued. "Why are you acting like this?" I waited for something, a punch, a slap, anything. But all he did was move me so my right side was pressed up against him, my legs laying on the bed. His hand brushed some bed hair out of my face, studying the look that I was giving him.

"You're my precious little lab rat." Take my fear, then quadruple it, and that would be how scared I am right now. "Why should I act like a brute when I'm trying to keep you alive? Besides, I can always hurt your friends if you ever try to run away." Every part of me wished to get off, but when I tried Janson only tightened his hold.

Breathing slowly, I clenched my fists once more and tried to keep my voice from wavering. "Please let me go." A few moments passed, and I wondered if I said something wrong until Janson unwrapped his arms. I hopped off quickly, wanting nothing more to do with him, but fate would not be so kind to me as he pulled me back to him with the chain.

Janson took the band of material connected to the chain off of me, but kept the collar on. Not only that, but he cuffed my hands behind my back -I didn't even notice he had those with him!- and picked me up bridal style. "Lighten up, Tommy! You're going to see your friends, since you've been such a good boy today!"

I'm seeing my friends? "Really?" The doors slid open when Janson got close and slid shut as he walked out. They weren't even locked! Getting out might be a bit easier, if I can get rid of the chain.

"Of course! But you must be on your best behavior, or you won't see your friends ever again." I quickly nodded.

Janson stopped in front of some door that required a keycard. "I'm going to set you down now. Don't run off, I want you to see your friends because you've been good so far. I haven't seen your friends in a while, and I want to see how well they've been doing."

"Good that." Janson raised an eyebrow at that, and I ducked my head, heat rushing to my cheeks as I realized how stupid I sounded. I opened my mouth to apologize when I realized that I didn't owe Janson any apology, and the thought of me apologizing to Janson of all people made me want to vomit.

I felt Janson lowering me onto the floor and I planted my feet on the ground so I didn't look like an idiot trying to stand up from the floor with his hands cuffed behind his back. Janson pulled out his card and slid it through the slot, hiding it in one of the pockets in his jacket. "Do you want to be cuffed, or do you think you can be good without the cuffs?"

"I want them off." After a second or two, I felt the pressure on my wrists fade away, and I rubbed my hands over my sore wrists as Janson led me through the door and into a seat. I watched Janson move to the other side of the room where there was a door with a slot for a card. Janson slid a different card through the slot and poked his head through the doorway.

"Okay, who wants to ses Thomas first?" He calls me Tommy when we're by ourselves, but calls me Thomas in front of my friends. I raised a mental eyebrow and huffed. That was something I didn't expect.

Janson moved out of the way for someone, and once Janson stepped aside I could see it was Minho. Minho was cuffed and Janson placed him in his seat more roughly than he did for me. Now that I observed Janson a little more closely, I could see hate in Janson's entire posture. I paid no attention to it, though, as I smiled at Minho, whom smiled back.

"Minho, you doing alright?" Minho nodded, and I relaxed, the tension I didn't even know was there leaving my muscles. "How has WCKD been treating you?" A shrug, and I let that one slide for now.

"How have you been faring, Thomas?" Knowing that Minho would understand, I shrugged.

"I guess I've been doing all right. I feel much better than I did before. Guess Teresa wasn't that bad after all." I took the nod and smile Minho gave me as a great sign.

Loosening up, Minho sighed in relief, eyeing Janson a bit as he said, "Had anyone else to talk to other than Janson?" I shook my head, and Minho didn't take it as a good sign at all. His face twisted into a frown, and he glared at Janson, who didn't even humor Minho by looking back.

"How are the others doing?" Minho made a fist and lifted his thumb, which -if I recall it correctly- was a thumbs up. It meant "good" or "great." My face spread out into a broad grin, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Janson's hand in a fist.

Turning my head, I asked Janson, "Hey, can I see everyone else?" Janson hesitated before moving to the door and I stood up, causing Janson to look at me with a confused expression. "Oh, I want to see everyone in that room, because this room is probably too small for everyone."

Janson muttered something under his breath, but he moved aside to let me enter the room. What I saw was rather...illuminating. It looked exactly like the room me, Minho, Frypan, Winst—No, don't think about that. It never happened.

Anyways, it looked exactly like that room, except it was just big enough for all of my friends to live here somewhat comfortably, with this weird red spot on the floor. But now that I could see everyone's feet, I could see that they were all cuffed by the feet and was forced to shuffle in order to walk, making it a bit harder to plan an escape. Not to mention Janson hanging out whenever I talked to them and there being no clock in this room also helping to disintegrate any hopes of escape. Along with the fact that I had to somehow get rid of the thing that Janson attaches to my waist and snatch both of those cards and get rid of this shitty collar.

Basically, getting out would be like trying to escape Janson with no legs in a long hallway with no obstacles to slow Janson down, which basically means it's close to impossible. Even if Janson cut my legs off, I would still fight for just a slimmer of a chance to escape. I should be smart about how we go about this. We only have one shot, and after that it's either we escape, or we get caught and never escape.

I didn't have to break out all of my friends because some of my friends weren't there. Vince wasn't in the room, and neither was Aris. Or Teresa. Jorge was also missing.

So that left Harriet, Minho, Brenda, Frypan, Sonya, Gally, and all of the immunes that didn't get out of WCKD's clutches. Probably not that doable, but it could be done. With a lot of luck. "I'm alive, and not injured. In any way, shape, or form."

Sonya and Harriet ran up to hug me, almost sweeping me off my feet. Frypan patted me on te back, and Gally gave me his usual greeting. "Hey, Greenie." Brenda stood over to the right of Gally, waving at me but not moving forward.

"How's that klunk been treating you?" Gally asked. Lightly laughing, I glanced over at Janson briefly to see if he realized we were talking klunk about him before mentally shrugging. Who cares at this point?

"He's jacked, but that's nothing new. Just a little more jacked than usual." Chills ran down my spine as I recalled what Janson did in the hallucination. Maybe the memories hidden from the memory wipe influenced that. A whole heck of a lot.

"You jacked or jacked jacked?" A slight grimace flickered over my face before I allowed that small insult to slide on by.

"Jacked jacked." As of now Brenda and Sonya were covering their mouths, trying not to look at Janson, Gally was snickering at how confused Janson was right now, Harriet was sneaking glances over at Janson (it only served to puzzle Janson even further), and Minho...he just really liked insulting Janson. (The reason why they thought it was funny was because they were insulting Janson right in front of him, without Janson even scowling at them. Oh, that was Glader slang, so Klunk means poop or crap and jacked describes someone as crazy or mental.)

Minho snorted at that. "So, what do you mean 'just a little more jacked than usual?'" By now everone has calmed down a bit, Janson was leaning against the doorway seeming uninterested, but we could all tell Janson was listening in.

"I mean, the klunk was acting very gentle and they were just...disturbing. They look at me freakily, and I don't enjoy that." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Janson silently fuming. You couldn't really identify how he was feeling most of the time unless you looked him in the eye, but you didn't even need to see his face in order to tell he was furious.

"You have two minutes left, so whatever you want to say, say it now." He kept looking at the little clock he has on his wrist, a watch.

Gally stepped forward, and I could feel Janson's eyes boring into me. I ignored it and stuck out my hand, Gally taking it. We shook hands and I grinned, Gally mimicking my expression. "Nice seeing you, Greenie. Hope to see you again soon."

"Good that." Now everyone was smiling, hugging me and saying goodbye. Minho was the last one to say goodbye to me, and then I was reminded of what I wanted to ask before.

"Minho?" He gave a slight hum. "Where's Teresa?" He looked away for a bit before sighing and looking back.

"She's in the Deadheads." She's dead. The air stopped in my throat, and I was barely able to respond when Minho hugged me and said goodbye and sorry, hardly even feeling Janson pulling me out of the room, the door slamming behind me.

I didn't care as Janson held me in his arms, carrying me back to the room I was staying in, for all I could think about was Teresa. She only cared about my health, that was the only reason she brought me back to WCKD, and she's dead because she cared. The red spot on the floor was her blood. I choked slightly on my own breath, realizing that she got to be with the others in her final moments before being killed right in front of them. Murdered.

She died right in front of them, but you weren't there to see it. I could imagine Janson aiming a pistol at Teresa, her eyes widening before he pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoing through the room as the bullet tore through the flesh and her skull, killing her a long time before her corpse collapsed on the floor like a broken doll. How could you not be there when she was murdered

"Tommy!" My eyelids fluttered a bit, my vision blurred from the tears that were streaming down my cheeks. I could feel Janson wiping them away with his thumb, and the softness of the bed underneath me felt like a stab through my heart. Just from the sight of their beds I could tell that I had a much softer bed, and it felt like I was betraying them in some way by being on this bed.

"Tommy, why were you crying?" Recollecting my thoughts, I tried to sit up only to be pushed back down by Janson. "Why were you crying?" Teresa.

"Why'd you kill her?" Janson tilted his head in bewilderment. I glowered, tensing when Janson was fiddling with a large piece of metal.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about." I hated how my voice wavered and cracked, but my glower never faltered. "Teresa. Why'd you kill her?"

"I think you know why, Tommy." He didn't appear to be paying much attention to me, merely attaching the chain to a piece of metal that looks similar to the material that was wrapped around my waist previously. Then he wrapped it around my waist, only letting go once he heard a faint click. "She betrayed me, and she would do it again once she saw you were better. I had to, to keep you here."

"I don't want to be here." Tears all dried up, I blinked and swallowed, my voice fluctuating. "I want to be anywhere that doesn't have you, or WCKD. I want to be outside for once in my lifetime." His eyes had a dangerous gleam, but I kept going, not wanting to stop.

"I want to be outside with all of my friends, not chained up like some animal. Why can't you just leave me alone? Why can't I ever be free of you?!" With not even a moment of hesitation Janson seized my throat, squeezing until it took all that I had just to breathe. My hands instinctually shot up, aiming to pry off Janson's hands, but then I forced them to halt.

I want to die. It now looks meaningless just to stay here, to be chained up like some wild animal for humanity or whatever. I'd rather die than stay here.

But what about everyone stuck here? What about my friends, who are also stuck here with me that needs me to help them escape? What about my friends that haven't been captured, trying to save me only to realize I died? Do I really want to die now, when my friends need me, like how I needed Newt?

All of my problems were nothing compared to what my friends are going through. If I die, there's no way Janson will let the immunes free. He might even kill my friends just to let out his anger, or worse, keep them alive and torture them. No, I can't leave. Not now.

I tried to gulp, but I could hardly even breathe, and I ended up choking on my spit. The pressure on my throat disappeared, and I coughed violently, struggling to breathe again. Arms curl around my waist, and I jump, stumbling out of Janson's reach and retreating to a corner of the room. I curl up in the corner and shrink when Janson gets off the bed and steps closer to me.

Licking my dry lips, I say, trying to add confidence to my voice, "Go away. Leave me alone!" Although I tried to keep it steady, my voice wavers, and Janson gives me that annoying smirk that he always does and yanks on the chain again. My breath hitches as Janson pulled on the chain, reeling me in like I'm a fish and he's the fisherman. My feet can't get a grip on the smooth carpet, and soon enough I'm face to face with Janson again.

"What did you say to me?" I took a shaky swallow, glaring as I waited for him to continue, knowing that from the look on his face. "Wrong question, my mistake. What did I say to you about talking back to me?"

A few seconds pass before I answer, knowing that no matter what I say, this isn't going to end well. "I—!" All I could see was a fist closing in before I was on the ground, my face on fire. Blood dripped down from my nose, and soaked into the carpet as Janson kicked my side as fast and hard as he could, forcing the air out of my lungs. I coughed again, the familiar taste of copper in the back of my throat growing stronger after that kick.

Janson grabbed locks of my hair and pulled, eliciting a yelp from me as he did so, letting go only to punch me in the gut and watch me fall to the ground again. Even though I knew I probably shouldn't fight back, since it would make it worse, I didn't listen to that tiny voice saying "Hey, we shouldn't do this!" and retaliated by punching Janson in the cheek. It felt nice to finally check that off the bucket list, but Janson didn't hold the title of head of security for nothing. My feet were swept out from under me with Janson's legs, and as I made an attempt to stand back up Janson was pulling the chain, kicking me in the gut again once I was close enough.

I could hear my ribs crack from that blow, and cried out when Janson kicked me again, curling up to try and block his attacks. Then something hit me in the back of the head, and my vision began to swim, blurring beyond control and tinting red. The energy that I had before was leaving me now, and I could hear someone yelling before the red covered my vision and turned black.

Well, that ended weirdly. This chapter was really long, so I'm not going to add a poem here. Just saying, I didn't mean for this chapter to end that way, it just came out. Sorry for the weird plotline, but that's the way it is. Go ahead and check out my other stories, such as The Cure or The Safe Haven, or Peter and The Itsy Bitsy Spider. I feel like they are more constructed and better than this story, which is not saying much, but they are better stories.

Sorry for not uploading sooner. I'm just working on another story. Seriously, I keep getting these weird story ideas. I should stop... Nah!

Hope you all had a fantastic winter break if you had one. I did, and it has just ended, and I am sad. Bye!