WARNING; DESCRIPTING OF VERY DISTURBING, DISGUSTING GORE AND STUFF. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Disclaimer; I do NOT own any of the characters apart from my OC and storyline. All rights go to James Dashner. Enjoy!
It's my fault. These three words repeat in my head as I stare in horror at Isaac's body. The guilt is burning inside me, it's eating away my heart. I feel empty, hollow, as if a part of my soul has been taken away. I crouch down and put my head on his chest. Still alive. Just like Ben, he is in-between life and death. My mood lifts slightly, at least he didn't die. Maybe, just maybe I could save him. I know it would be stupid, he has lost so much blood already. I look at his right leg, it is almost completely skinless, and you can see a part of his bone sticking out at an odd angle. The whole situation wants to make me puke, but I haven't eaten anything in such a long time nothing comes out. I take my hoodie off, revealing my bare arms to the chilly night air. I hardly notice though as I am already busy wrapping Isaac's leg in the hoodie. When I am done I sit back and look at him, his body covered in blood and twisted in a strange angle. The only indication he is still alive is that his chest rises and falls, I watch for many minutes letting my energy slowly come back.
I come to a decision it would be the best idea to get Isaac back to the door, so the Gladers have at least one body to find in the morning. What about me? Well I already had two strikes, and I believe this counts as the third. Which would mean they would banish me anyway, so why bother? I pick Isaac's upper half of his body and drag him carefully through the corridors. Every so often I take a break, as soon as my arms stop hurting I carry on. I move slowly through the corridors, leaving bloody marks until I reach the walls that lead to the Glade. I lay Isaac right before the walls so when they open he will be the first thing they see.
I sit near Isaac, too tired to stand up, even move. I am completely worn out, I soon find myself falling asleep, falling down into dark abyss.
I am sat in in a perfectly white room, opposite me sits a man, his face similar to a rat. I heard the other Munies call him Rat-Man, I now know why. Is cold eyes study my face, trying to guess what I am thinking about. But over the years I have taught myself to keep my face completely unreadable. I needed this, to deal with my feelings, the trials and of course my future. I don't want to remember my past, although I can hardly remember the details the events can still make me wake up screaming for people to run.
I return the cold stare, I am not looking forward to this conversation. He sits back, still keeping his eyes focused on me.
'I'll ask you one ques-'
'Get to it.' I snap. Another skill I have taught myself is to predict exactly what a person is going to say and beat them to it. I do it flawlessly. Rat-man slightly raises his eyebrow but carries in his annoying nature.
'We can bring him back. He's alive.' I let this sink in. They saved him, but at what cost?
'But?'
'But he doesn't remember anything, not even you. And it needs to stay that way. You can't call him Isaac, he now is Newt. If you call him Isaac he will get very bad headaches, even die. You see, his name will spark up some memories which will lead him to depression.' He gives me a look which clearly refers to the Sun Flares. I shiver at the memories.
'Now the question is, are YOU ready to start over? Create a better future for the people?' I am not stupid, even though I am only ten summers old I know that the Munies just have a stronger immune system. There is no possible way they can change the immune system of the Cranks. Personally I think they should just let the Munies live somewhere safe and begin the population all over again. But if I said that they would get rid of me, they would think I would start a rebellion or something.
'Now that's two questions.' Rat-man smirks in an ugly way.
'Well?' I think about it, well I pretend to at least. I already know what I will say, I have been preparing for many night.
'On one condition. After the trials WICKED will be destroyed.' This sets him off track. I hold out my hand, and smirk. He has no choice.
'Deal.' He shakes my hand. Blackness.
A/n
Ok, I know this is a really short one but I had to put it up here so you would understand the next chapters. I have got really excited with this story but when I checked the plan I realised there are only a couple of chapters left. :'(
But I will say I am working on the sequel so don't get too sad!
As always, have a marvellous (an over dramatic Capitol accent) day, night, morning or afternoon. Toddles!
And what do you think
WICKED is good?
