WINNING OPTION:

You go to find Newt

chosen by superstormkatie, May a Chance, amycahill57, Mazerunnerlover2002 and a guest. Once again, thank you, and hands up to Savarra who confidently wanted to go with Gally, you brave shank!

III

THE BLOODY TOUR

You feel stupid for standing there with your mouth hanging open, eyeing this boy named Gally. You keep telling yourself that you're being ridiculous, that you shouldn't judge, that he's not that scary, but you come up with nothing to support it. You just want out of there, and if you have to choose between taking this — did they call it the tour? — then you'd rather go with that other blond kid.

"Where's Newt?" you finally manage to say. You realize that you're fiddling with your shirt, probably looking like a scared little baby, so you force yourself to stand up straight and ignore the pounding of your heart and the screaming confusion and fright that threaten to pop your head like a balloon. Suddenly the nausea strikes again, nearly sending you on all fours, but you lock your knees and work through it. You don't catch what Gally says, but you see him pointing out the entrance behind him. Without another word, you half walk, half run past him.

What lay outside is equal parts impressive, fascinating, unbelievable and horrifying. Wherever you turn there are grey walls rising from the ground, enormous walls with green ivy trying desperately to reach the top with no success. A bright blue sky is the only thing you can see above the walls. They form what looks like a perfect square, several hundred yards on all sides, and you are standing in the near middle of it. Ahead is a vast, grassy plain that ends with a small village of sorts. Behind it lies a forest that can't be too big, and behind that is the opposite wall. And everywhere you look there is one or two boys carrying something, running or walking.

"I can't believe this," you whisper to yourself.

You must look dumbfounded, because a pair of boys stop to look at you not too far away. "Oy, Greenie!" calls one of them. "If you're looking for Alby, he's over there, by the Homestead!"

You don't know who this Alby is, and you don't like that they seem to expect you to know. For a moment it makes you forget that skinny, blond boy's name. "Uhm, Newt? I'm supposed to see... yes, Newt."

The two boys, both dressed in leather gloves and aprons, come closer. "Didn' hear ya."

"Newt," you repeat, trying to sound confident. "You know where he is?"

Your calm demeanor seems to surprise the boys. They share a quick glance, then one of them points toward that small collection of huts you've already chosen to call the Village. "Last I saw him he was by the Homestead. You know where it is?"

"Yes," you lie. You know they don't believe you, it shows in their faces when they leave, but they do leave.

You head in the exact direction they pointed you, hoping not to meet anyone else on the way. Everyone who sees you stops what they're doing for a little while and looks at you, almost as if you were some celebrity or an attractive girl. You try not to make eye-contact, and decide to count them. Ten, fifteen, twenty. Once you reach the Village, you've already lost count.

You're lucky. Before you're forced to choose between entering the closest hut of the village or stand there like an idiot to wait, the boy named Newt appears from behind one of the huts and waves you over to him.

"I'm impressed," he smiles and crosses his arms over his chest, not nearly as intimidating as Gally. "Making your way here all by yourself on first day? You've got some guts after all."

You ignore that last comment, and the ocean of questions that has built up inside you suddenly flow out of you. "What is this place? What am I doing here? Why can't I remember anything? Why is this happening!?"

You've started shouting by the time you manage to shut your mouth. Newt's smile is gone now. "One thing at the time, mate. Let's show you around."

Even though the questions still claw away at your brain, you decide to shut up completely and do what Newt says. He seems decent enough, the nicest you've met so far.

"Come on, Greenie," Newt says and starts walking back the way you just came. You hope you'll get some questions answered after all.

And he starts to explain it all. You're in the Glade, a place with no purpose as far as anyone in here knows, created by nobody knows who, surrounded by something that Newt seems unwilling to talk about, with supplies sent up every week and a new Greenie (you realize it's not actually your name, just something they call the newest Glader) every month. By the time Newt stops talking and looks at you, you only feel more confused and less hopeful. He seems to notice this, and walks over to put a hand on your shoulder.

"Look, Greenie, we've all been through it. All of it, every buggin' thing you feel, we've all felt it before. You'll learn to like it here, we'll take care of ya and you'll take care of us. It's how it works here."

However little, it helps to hear him say it. "Why us?"

"If I bloody knew, I'd be shouting it at people," Newt chuckles. You smile too, for the first time in your short span of remembering. Then Newt's grin fades. "There are a few rules you need to know. Alby will probably carve them into that brain of your later, but I'll give ya a heads up. Firstly, no one goes outside the Glade, got it? No one."

You nod, uncertainly at first and then earnestly. There's a lack of light in Newt's eyes when he speak of the outside that you don't like.

"Secondly, no fighting. We don't hurt each other here," Newt says, and he looks in another direction when saying it, as if there's somebody in particular he's thinking about. "We' stick together and no fighting's gonna help us stay that way."

You nod again. You can't remember anything about yourself apart from what your thought teach you every single second, but you know that you're not the fighting type. Only seeing that boy Gally scared your wits away at first. You decide there and then to stay in the shadows as much as possible, watch and learn and all that stuff. You'll learn to like it here, as Newt put it.

Newt pulls you out of your thoughts by slamming his palms together. "Right, let's get you all settled in. You've spent the last three days sleeping, so you're quite expected to work that butt off now that you're vertical. Where do you wanna start?"

"Start?" You look around confused, as if there'd be some kind of sigh somewhere stating it was where you start.

Newt rolls his eyes. "Sorry, Greenie. Like I said, we stick together here, which means we work together, too. To find out what you're good at, we let the Keeper's have ya for one day each. There are seven of 'em; the Builders, the Slicers, the Med-jacks — you've already met Clint, the Track-hoes, the Baggers, the Sloppers and the Cooks. And the Runners, of course, if you count them."

You can't help yourself. So many new words you've never heard, it's just ridiculous, so you laugh a little. "What are my options?"

Newt's mouth turns into a grin, and he starts eyeing you from top to bottom. "You look like you could use a good meal, so I'd say you should start with Frypan. He's the Cook. But I think Alby promised Gally'd have you first. He's the Keeper of the Builders. You choose."

Do you spend your first day with the Cooks?

OR

Do you spend it with the Builders?