(A/N: I kind of go off on my own thing here - not really following the book or the movie, but stick with me. It's about to get crazy!)

Chapter 3

It was almost time for the doors to close, almost time for Ben's banishment. Newt hated what was about to happen, they all did. But it was something that had to be done.

Ben had gone wild. He was now a danger to everyone else in the Glade. All day long, he had been screaming about how evil Thomas was and how he had to die and how he was the reason they were all here. Newt sensed that if he was let out of the Slammer - or the Pits as some called it - then he would stop at nothing to properly finish off Thomas. He'd probably kill anyone who stood in his way, too! He had to go. They had to do this to him. It didn't mean anybody liked what was happening, though. They did what they had to do to keep things running smoothly, no matter how awful it seemed.

Minho came running up to him, his face grim.

"I'm sorry we have to do this, Minho," Newt started, "But you know as well as I do that it's what needs to happen."

His friend simply nodded his head. "Ben was one of my best Runners and a good friend. He'll be missed."

It wasn't lost on Newt how they were talking about Ben as if he was already dead. In a way, he already was. Nobody ever came back from a night in the Maze. Nobody!

"I should probably go get the-"

Minho was cut off by Chuck running up beside them, yelling for their attention.

"Calm down, shank!" Minho snapped and Newt mentally face-palmed. Chuck was clearly distressed about something - yelling wouldn't help anything. "Just tell us what happened!"

"He escaped! He's gone! He-"

"What are you on about?" Newt interrupted. Chuck met his eyes, his gaze fearful.

"Alby sent me. He went to go fetch Ben, but he wasn't there. The lock looked all smashed and broken."

It wasn't a lock, as such. More of a piece of thick rope tied tightly over strong pieces of wood arranged like bars over the hole in the earth where they kept the troublemakers.

Newt exchanged a look with Minho before they both took off running from where Chuck had just came from.

"Split up," Newt said as they ran. "We have to find him!"

Even as he said this, he had a thought. A very disturbing, chilling thought. He quickened his pace towards the Homestead, seriously hoping he wasn't going to be right.

Thomas opened his eyes, confused. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he obviously had. Sleeping seemed to be the only way to get away from the pain.

He glanced over at the crude bandage covering his chest, a small spot of blood starting to seep through. He didn't dare take a look at the other bandages around his body.

Not that he had the strength to fully check himself over. He felt seriously ill. Something was wrong with his body and he had a bad feeling that an infection had set in somewhere.

He let his head fall to the side and then gasped in shock and fear when he saw Ben standing in the doorway. He looked a lot worse than earlier.

Thomas opened his mouth and Ben jumped forward, clamping a big hand over his mouth. Thomas tried to squirm out of the grasp and fight back, but he barely had enough energy to move at all. He tried calling out for help, but it was pointless. Even if Ben's hand hadn't been covering his mouth, his throat was sore and dry.

"Be quiet!" Ben hissed. "I've had enough of you!"

Thomas didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound good. Before he had time to think on it further, Ben's other hand came down onto his throat and started squeezing. Thomas wheezed. His battered body couldn't handle this. He didn't have enough energy to fight.

"This is what happens when you side with them!Them and not us, you're friends! Well, former friends! After what you've done, no one will be able to forgive you again!" It had started off as a low growl, but Ben had increasingly gotten louder through the whole thing and finished it by screaming.

"BEN!"

Black spots were appearing in Thomas' vision. Voices were going back and forth across the room, though he couldn't tell who. Everything thing was fading, going dark, disappearing.

Then, all of a sudden, the pressure on his neck was released and the hand over his mouth vanished. He sucked in lungfuls of air. Sweet, sweet air! It felt amazing!

He finally glanced over to see what had happened and felt like crying in relief when he saw Newt stood there over Ben's unconscious body, a broken shovel in hand and slowly-melting anger painted across his face.

"You 'kay, Greenie?"

Thomas could only nod. He was unable to do anything to stop the tears that were just starting to form or the breaths that came hitched and laboured.

"It's alright; you're fine now, Tommy," Newt soothed. "You're just in shock, is all. But don't give yourself a bloody panic attack over it, yeah? That won't do us any good!"

Thomas just nodded again, still feeling quite out of breath.

Alby showed up, then.

"What happened?"

"Found Ben strangling Thomas," Newt replied. "Thought he might've tried something like this. 'S'why I grabbed a shovel from the gardens before coming here."

Someone else showed up at that. Thomas recognised him as one of the Runners. What was his name, again? Minho! Yes, that was it.

"There you guys are!" he exclaimed. "See you found Ben, then?"

It seemed like such a ridiculous, random statement that Thomas almost started laughing. Instead, what came out was a cough. Or - more correctly - a series of awful heaves and gasps that racked up and down his body and left him choking for breath after each one. Someone was patting him on the back and he could vaguely hear sarcastic remarks being made, but everything was fading again. He fought against it, though. His valiant effort didn't actually last too long and sleep quickly welcomed him back.

The three older Gladers stood around the bed awkwardly, not really sure of what to do. Eventually, Alby spoke.

"Sleep's the best thing for him at this point. He'll need it to recover, 'specially after what just happened."

A big, booming, thunderous sound filled the air and they all just listened. They'd all heard it countless times before and tonight was no different.

"We've missed our chance," Newt said, trying not to let emotions leak into his voice. "We'll have to wait for tomorrow night for Ben's banishment."

"Yeah, in the meantime, we can let him go round beating the klunk out of a bunch of other people. If Newt whacks him on the head a few more times with that shovel, there might be no need to banish Ben at all!" Minho scoffed sarcastically. Normally Alby could put up with his stupid comments, but not today.

"Well, what else can we do?! The Doors are closed now! We have no choice other than wait!"

Unused to Alby using such a harsh tone with him, Minho took a couple of steps back, holding his hands outwards.

"Woah, slim it. All I'm saying is the dude's dangerous. He'll need at least one person watching him the whole time we're waiting for tomorrow night!"

"Might even need more than that," Newt said softly. "He's mad - out of his mind! A danger to everyone!"

Before anything more could be said, a loud, piercing alarm started blaring at full volume throughout the Glade. It was the one used to signal the new arrivals. Alby ordered Newt and Minho to take Ben while he went to check out what was going on.

There was chaos outside. Everybody was gathered in a tight circle around the Box. It had just arrived, the alarm finally having stopped. A couple of boys looked questioningly over to Alby as they got ready to open up the doors to the lift shaft. He nodded his consent.

Multiple gasps ran through the crowd and they all unconsciously stepped back as one. Four grown men dressed in weird green suits with the letters 'WICKED' across their chests climbed out. Everyone took a few steps back from them once more.

Alby had been about to step towards these men when he saw what they were carrying: guns! Icy fear settled into his heart.

Without thinking about it, all the boys had gathered behind their leader, waiting nervously for him to make the first move.

"What do you want here?" he asked the unexpected visitors, his voice quiet yet firm and commanding.

Instead of answering, they started to push past the crowd. Alby let them. Everyone else took their cue. They weren't messing with a bunch of strange men all carrying big guns strapped across their shoulders. But then somebody called out, "Why're they heading to the Homestead?"

There was only one answer to that and Alby took off running after the strangers, ignoring everyone's warning calls and worried voices. Along the way, his two closest and oldest (well, as far as he could remember) friends joined him, Newt going to get someone to guard Ben first.

"You see those shanks with guns?" Minho asked.

Without looking back at him, Alby responded, "They're the ones who came up in the Box. The reason we're going to the Homestead right now."

This time Newt asked the question: "What on Earth could they possibly want with the bloody Greenie?! He just got here!"

No one answered. Nobody knew.

As they neared the Homestead, they saw two of the four men standing guard while the other two half-dragged-half-carried Thomas out. He struggled weakly, still exhausted from earlier.

"Alby!" he called out hoarsely. One of the men slapped him around the face, snapping his head to the side.

"Silence!" the man demanded.

"HEY!" Minho yelled before either of his friends could stop him. "No one treats our Greenies like that! Back off now and we won't break both your legs!"

Alby internally groaned. He could see Newt looked ready to whack Minho across the head and all he could think was, Thank goodness he doesn't have that shovel still on him!

"Minho!" the leader hissed. "You're gonna get us all shucking killed!"

The Glade's resident Big Mouth took breath to respond, but Newt cut in.

"Just shut up!"

The strange men started to push past them again and the Runner tried to go for them, his friends only just managing to hold him back.

"They've got Thomas!" he yelled.

"They've also got guns!" Alby yelled back twice as loud. "D'ya have a death wish? Getting shot ain't gonna help nothing!"

The three of them followed the visitors back to the Box. Chuck greeted them there.

"They took him! And the Box went down with them inside!"

This day was just getting crazier and crazier. Beside him, Alby could hear Minho using words that weren't really appropriate for Chuck to hear. There was also multiple conversations filling the air: questions, theories, fears, concerns. The leader of the Glade couldn't think straight with all the noise.

"Everybody!" he shouted, catching all their attention and ending discussions immediately. He pointed to a random kid in the crowd. "You! Go help with Ben - I think Franklin might already be there. Keepers, I'm calling a gathering! Rest of you need to try settle down for the night; we'll let you all know the minute we decide something!"

No one argued as they all shuffled off in different directions, silence filling all their eardrums, the mood grave and somber.

Thomas had no idea how long he'd been out. All he knew was that he had been taken by some men and woken up in a white room. Everything was white. The walls, ceiling, lights, floor, door, the bed he was in. Everything. It was starting to get to him. The only thing that broke up the shape of the room was the outline of a door against the far wall, the small lights which hung from the ceiling at regular intervals, and his bed pressed against the furthest corner of the room. That was it. Nothing else. He was the only spot of colour there, but even his clothes were white.

His only explanation was that he was in a hospital of some sort (although, he couldn't remember one himself. Somehow the word was lodged in his brain!). He had woken up covered in bandages with various tubes attached to him - some with plastic bags on the ends, some without. The pain in his body had diminished greatly. Someone had taken him to treat his wounds! Why? What was going on?

Even as he was trying to get his head around it all, the door opened and in walked a woman in a white lab coat. She was pushing a small metal table on wheels in front of her, stocked up with multiple pieces of medical equipment. There were syringes and bandages. There were various bottles of pills and strange liquids. There were scalpels, blood cuffs, thermometers, and stethoscopes. There was lots of other stuff, too, some that Thomas didn't recognise from his sketchy memories. It looked like she'd brought an entire storage cupboard from a hospital and dumped it all out onto the metal table.

"Hello, Subject A2," the woman started. Her voice sounded almost mechanical. "You won't remember me, but that does not matter. All you need to know is that I am now in charge of your health. I will be taking care of you until you are well enough to be sent back into the experiment."

"You called me Subject A2. What... what's that supposed to mean? And what's all this about an experiment? What's going on?!"

"So many questions," the woman tutted. "You need to just relax. I'm on your side."

Thomas just gave her the most suspicious glare he could muster before turning his attention to all the medical supplies before him.

"What's all this for?"

"Our supplies were low on just about everything and we needed to restock. I'm just going around all the medical rooms to replenish their cupboards. Thought I'd check on you first, though."

"Why am I here, anyway?"

"So many questions," the white-coated lady repeated before turning and walking away.

That was weird! Thomas thought, shivering slightly, although he didn't know exactly why.

Moments after the doctor - or whatever she was - left, a man entered. Unlike his blonde companion, he had dark hair and tanned skin. He was also carrying a big syringe filled with weird-looking purple liquid.

"Subject A2," he began, much the same way as the lady, with the same mechanical voice. "Otherwise known as Thomas."

"What do you want with me?" Thomas snapped, trying to sound brave. Really, he felt so much younger than what he was.

"Calm down. I'm not going to kill you." The man flashed an evil, disturbing smile. "I'm just going to let you suffer for a little while. I know what you did, Thomas!"

"I-"

"SHUT UP!"

Suddenly the man seemed very crazed and dangerous. There was a look in his eyes that suggested he wasn't quite with it. It reminded Thomas of how Ben had looked straight before he attacked.

"I know what you did! You might not remember, but I do!"

"What did I do?" It was probably the wrong question. He probably shouldn't have spoken at all. But he hadn't been able to contain it.

The crazed man growled an animal sound and jumped forward, plunging the needle of the syringe into Thomas' neck. Everything started to go blurry and he closed his eyes so everything would stop spinning. When he opened them again, he was tied to a wooden chair, his arms pulled taut behind the back of it. There was a piece of cloth covering his mouth. The room was completely pitch black; he couldn't see anything!

He heard a door open behind him, saw the small rectangle of light coming in from the hallway outside.

"I really didn't want to do this, you know. But I'm sure once you understand what all this is about, you'll agree that it was necessary. The world needs us, Thomas. We need to do this."

It was a girl's voice. The one he'd heard in his dreams. The one who'd spoken in his head. It was her. He just knew it.

She came to stand in front of him and from the small amount of light coming in, he recognised her. Somehow he knew her.

She pressed her lips gently to the side of his face and then whispered in his ear, "I'm so sorry!"

"Mmmph hmm mm!" he tried to talk through the gag.

She grabbed his shoulders roughly.

"The next few minutes are all just going to be in your mind! You won't really be seeing it, okay!?" her voice sounded desperate, urgent. "None of it's real! None of it! No matter what it seems like, it's all just in your head!"

She kissed his face again.

"I've got to go now. Be brave, Thomas. Good luck. Remember, this is for the good of the world! You can do this!"

And the she spoke in his head. I believe in you! You'll be fine- it's all in your head! Just remember that! Then she was gone again, closing the door behind her. Once again, the world was plunged into the total darkness. And that's when he heard it: shuffling of feet and heavy breathing. Someone else was in the room with him!

"Why we interested in helping this shank, again?" Gally asked for what had to be the hundredth time.

"Shuck, Gally!" Minho snapped. "Surely, even you can get it round your thick skull!"

"It's you who can't get it round your skull, Minho! Why is it so hard to listen to me and accept my opinion!? I'm one of the Keepers, too, you know!"

"We've been doing nothing but listen to you all night, slinthead!"

"ENOUGH!" Alby roared. "Our newest Greenie's just been taken and we're all stood around arguing like five-year-olds! We need to pull ourselves together and figure out what to do!"

"There's nothing to do!" retorted Gally. "All we can do is wait to see if they bring him back - they put him here for a reason and it's likely they'll do the same after they're finished with whatever they're doing."

"Not that you want him back!" Minho grumbled.

"I've seen him Minho! He ain't good news, I tell you now."

"Slim it, shanks," Newt cut in calmly. "Hate to say it, but Gally's right. Nothing we can do, I'm afraid, 'specially not with the closed Doors."

"Then why are we still here?" Winston complained, joined by multiple others moaning their displeasure.

"Well, we can't do nothing!" Minho exclaimed and Alby gave his agreement.

"We gotta be ready for when they come back."

"Maybe they won't, though," Gally mused. "Maybe they'll just dump that shuck-face back in the Box and send 'im up."

"Maybe they'll have taken away his memories again!" someone from the back of the room piped up. Alby couldn't be bothered in that moment figuring out who.

He nodded to Newt and Minho and gestured to the door. While everyone else started up their own heated discussions on the matter, the two of them followed their leader out of the room. They had a feeling they knew what he was going to say.

Alby waited until they were all outside with the door closed behind them before he began, speaking quietly to ensure no one heard.

"I don't want the Runners going out tomorrow."

That hadn't been what Minho was expecting.

"What? Why? Just because Ben got stung, doesn't mean the others will!"

"There's too much going on at the moment - we can't risk it. We don't know what will happen tomorrow, either. I'm gonna need backup. The Runners are the strongest, fastest and smartest in the Glade; I'll need that."

"Well, most of 'em are smart. Not too sure 'bout Minho," Newt jibed.

A look from Alby silenced the Keeper of Runners before he could even speak. Alby didn't even make a reply himself. Newt knew the situation was serious, but he'd only been trying to lighten the mood, if only by a little bit. He knew, however, that it wasn't the time for jokes. There was too much going on. Too much on their minds.

"What're we going to do?" he finally asked.

Alby shook his head wearily. "I dunno, Newt. I dunno!"

Thomas curled up in a corner of what felt like a big metal box. It was pitch black. He'd already had a feel around where he was on his hands and knees after he had awoken here. He hadn't been able to feel any doors or windows - just four big walls closing him in. It was like the lift that had brought him up into the Maze. He wished this time they'd taken the few memories he'd gathered up in the couple of days since first entering the Glade. He doubted he'd ever be able to sleep properly again after what they'd put him through.

A small red light came on. He was in the Box! There was even still some supplies for the Gladers in here. An alarm went off and he started moving upwards.

Unlike last time, he wasn't making this trip in the dark and he was (more or less) aware of what was going on. He could also hear strange noises from outside the lift shaft. They hadn't been there the first time. They sounded kind of like... Grievers!

Part of the metal wall on the opposite side from where he was sitting ripped away. He screamed in terror as the vile creature tried to claw its way further in, letting out horrendous screeches the whole time.

Thomas picked up one of the crates from the floor and threw it at the monster. It swung one of its metallic arms round and hit the small box, splintering it into thousands of tiny pieces. It continued the swing of its arm until the claws met with Thomas' right knee and it grabbed on tightly, pulling him forward.

He started yelling and kicking, then there was a sudden, violent jolt. The Griever was knocked from its position and Thomas could hear it falling the whole way back down the lift.

He sat frozen for several moments before he curled into himself and tried not to cry. That's when the doors above the Box opened and he heard lots of shouting. He didn't bother to listen to what they were saying - he was just relived he was back in the Glade. It was the only place that offered relative safety.

Someone jumped down into the Box with him and knelt down to look him in the eyes.

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon."

It was Newt.

And then Thomas really did start crying.

Alby jumped down to join them and knelt down like Newt had, asking in a surprisingly soft voice, "What happened? Do you know who those people were?"

To Thomas' complete and utter horror, he started sobbing even harder, unable to stop himself. To add insult to injury, all the other Gladers were watching. As if reading his mind, Alby and Newt discreetly started sending everyone off and back to their jobs, even the Runners. Since they were one short on numbers, Alby told Minho that as soon as he was done with Thomas, he'd come help.

Newt reached out to help Thomas up, but he flinched, drawing in a startled gasp and moving back several inches. He felt his cheeks going red as his mind caught up to the rest of him and he realised what he had just done. Newt's face softened and he tried for a sort-of smile.

"I ain't gonna bugging hurt ya, Greenie!" he attempted to joke, but it was a weak try. His words felt flat and heavy and carried no conviction. He wondered what they had done to him. When Thomas had first arrived, he'd tried several times to run, tried to push his luck and enter the Maze, even though he claimed he was "only looking"! He'd gone against Gally in that game around the fire and won! He'd been bold in ways that the newest kids usually weren't! Now? Now he looked terrified of the same person he'd grabbed onto while having a nightmare just the day before.

It took a lot of coaxing and talking softly, but several long minutes later, Alby and Newt had finally managed to get Thomas out of the Box and heading to the Homestead. He looked brand new. Newt could see the small lumps of bandages under Thomas' T-shirt in multiple places. They'd treated his wounds - it didn't make any sense! They'd let other people - young boys - die or get seriously injured, but the Creators had never stepped in, then! It led Newt back to his earlier thoughts of how Thomas must be connected to the people who put them here. So, why was their newest addition so frightened all of a sudden?

"Wicked isn't good!"

That phrase stuck out like a sore thumb to Newt and something told him that while they may have treated the injuries Ben had given Thomas, they'd also given him new scars on his mind and heart that would never heal. He had a very awful feeling that things were only going to get worse.

"Get ready to send Teresa up," Chancellor Paige told one of the Psychs. They were stood in the Observation Room together going over the day's events and evaluating their next moves. "She's going up first thing tomorrow."

"You know that Group A are now a few days behind Group B, right? And that little stunt we pulled earlier didn't help! We're behind schedule, Chancellor. How are we going to pull this back?"

Paige smiled. "Oh, leave that to me, Doctor. I've got plans for Thomas that will push events nicely into place. He's one of our leading Candidates, you know? But all this isn't just about that; he tried to betray WICKED, leave us, abandon our search for a cure!"

"I'm very well aware, Chancellor."

"While this gets all our needed stimulations in the brain, it's also a good chance to remind them - even though none of the Subjects will understand - that nobody leaves WICKED and nobody betrays us! Thomas won't remember why we're doing this, but it will serve a lesson to him, nonetheless!"

"Even though it is putting us behind schedule?"

"Whatever it takes to make them see!"

"Should I go and prepare Teresa now, Chancellor?"

The woman simply nodded, smiling to herself. Yes, they would see. They would see and they'd understand! As she walked off down the long, white corridor, one phrase repeated over and over in her head: WICKED is good!