Chapter Text
Minho and Newt peered curiously through the metal bars of the heavy gate, shaking with the nervous adrenaline that comes from breaking the rules. The gate separated them from a red brick corridor that disappeared into shadow, presumably leading to the outside world.
This was all Minho’s idea and when he was determined to do something, there was no stopping him. Especially when, despite Newt’s trepidation, he had been rather curious himself. On their way down the great lawn, they spotted Thomas under his usual tree. Newt bounded over, and with enough badgering, they were able to convince him to come along.
Minho sighed. “I wonder why we’re never allowed to go outside.” He said absently. Their life in the orphanage was amazing, but one did have to wonder; why couldn’t they go out once in a while? According to the books, the outside world was a wonderful, exciting place, promising experiences they could never have locked up in the orphanage.
Newt shrugged. “Mom always tells us doesn’t she? Never go near the gate or fence in the back of the forest because it’s dangerous. Maybe that extends to the outside world in general?”
“That’s obviously a lie,” Thomas muttered. He was being a grumpy contrarian as usual.
Newt turned to Thomas, struck with a thought, “Hey Tommy, what do you want to do when we finally go outside?” Thomas tilted his head in consideration. “I don’t know, what about you?” Newt frowned, then remembered the book of animals he was reading. “I want to ride a giraffe!” He said happily. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Of all the things, that’s what you come up with?” Newt laughed, shoving him playfully.
Minho ignored the two lovebirds, stepping closer to the gate. “I wonder what this gate is protecting us from,” he said quietly.
The sun rose on another day at Glade House. Newt woke up, a smile already on his face, and cheerfully called for everyone to wake up if they didn't want to miss breakfast. Today was a big day. They had an exam in the morning, break time in the afternoon, and in the evening, little Winston would be taken away to the outside world.
Newt busied himself with his daily morning routine: helping the younger kids with their buttons and shoes, smiling fondly at Teresa’s attempts to get Harriet to stop chasing Sonya, and greeting Gally, Winston, and Little Bunny, Winston's toy rabbit, as he gave Chuck a piggyback ride to the dining hall. Sonya and Harriet bumped into him on the way there, and he chased them playfully, giggling as Chuck climbed onto his shoulders. Finally making it to the hall, he ran into Thomas and Minho, Thomas mocking his overly enthusiastic greeting as usual and asking him if he was actually five years old instead of eleven. Sometimes Thomas could be really mean!
Luckily Mama was there to clear things up and they were all herded to sit peacefully together at the long rows of tables and give thanks for their meal, which was excellent as usual. Newt smiled happily. He was sad to see Winston go, but he was very grateful for the life he had at the Glade. He had the best family anyone could ask for, beautiful grounds to explore, and challenging but fun classes and monthly exams.
Speaking of which, they had an important exam today. He needed to keep his focus if he wanted to maintain his status as a perfect scorer along with Minho and Thomas. At eight years old, Thomas had been the first to reach a perfect score. However, Minho and Newt, not ones to resist a challenge, worked all the harder, studying furiously together to catch up to him. Minho was next, with Newt right behind him.
This test was particularly difficult, Newt thought, sharing a commiserating smile with Teresa, who had flopped onto her desk in exhaustion. But he felt confident in his performance. After a delicious lunch, they gathered in the classroom to hear their results, and sure enough, Mama congratulated Newt, Minho and Thomas on once again getting perfect scores. Gally and Teresa, the next youngest, weren’t far behind. “Good job you guys.” Teresa said ruefully, shaking her head. “One day I’ll be up there with you three.”
Gally however, didn’t take it as well, steaming in the head as usual. “You better be It for hide and seek, slinthead,” he sneered, focusing his ire on Minho, well acknowledged to be peerless among them as a seeker. Minho shrugged, hiding a smile. He enjoyed being It anyway, and would have offered even without Gally’s challenge.
With Thomas as timekeeper, the rest of them scattered into the woods. In the past, hide and seek games had often stretched past breaktime. Newt remembered one time several years ago when Minho had evaded the seeker so well that it was dinner time before Mama was finally forced to go and find him. At Mama’s mild suggestion that they find some way to make their games shorter, the orphans had established a time limit of half an hour. Usually, this limit left a small handful of victors that the seeker simply couldn’t reach in time. However, when Minho was It, he would, almost without exception, catch everyone with time to spare.
Not for lack of trying. Newt grinned at Minho as they raced through the forest, zigzagging between trees and jumping across bubbling streams. Minho was a great runner, building up an impressive athleticism despite his many illnesses as a younger child. However, Newt was more naturally athletic, proving this fact by jumping to the other side of a shallow ravine, at the bottom of which ran a gushing creek.
He looked behind him and saw Minho running along the far bank. He was probably heading towards the bridge, which was far away enough that it would buy him some time to find a tree and wait out the remaining minutes.
But Minho wasn’t the best seeker for nothing. With three minutes left, Newt grinned from his perch on the branches as he saw Minho approach the tree where he was hiding. His muffled giggle turned into a cry of alarm when Minho tripped on a stray root and didn’t immediately get back up.
Worried, he jumped down from the tree to see if he was alright. Minho curled in on himself, clutching his leg and Newt ran over. “Are you okay?!” He asked in a panic. When he drew near, Minho suddenly popped up and tapped his shoulder. “Sorry man, I was just pretending.” He laughed.
“No fair, shuckface, I was worried” Newt cried.
“Well this is what you get for your worry.” Minho said, smiling to take the edge off. Maybe you shouldn’t be so nice all the time.”
“I win!” Minho announced happily to cheers from the little kids as they returned to the lawn. They gravitated towards Thomas, plopping down beside him at his usual tree. “Why do you always win!” Newt whined. “I’m faster than you.”
“Yeah, but he’s more strategic, which is what tag is all about,” Thomas said, smirking. “If you only used your head a little more, you might have a chance.
“It’s just a simple game of tag.”
“Nothing simple about it. It’s chess, but with your whole body, right Minho?”
“That’s right!” Minho beamed. He turned to Thomas “But you’re better than me at chess. You should try seeking, I’m sure you’d be great at it, you might even beat me.”
Thomas shrugged. “Nah, you can keep your position as best seeker. You probably overestimate me anyway.”
Newt frowned at Thomas. “Antisocial spoilsport. You can’t be a timekeeper every time, you know.”
“Watch me.”
Minho leaned back against the tree. “As good as we are, we still can’t beat Mama at chess.” He sighed.
“Give it time,” Newt said. “Maybe when we’re older, we can come back and play her.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Their conversation was interrupted by an angry Gally, who challenged Minho to hide and seek with the format flipped, having the entire group search for Minho first. Minho agreed, but ten minutes in, Newt found him out in the open by the small fence, staring into the forest beyond. He tagged him, but his heart wasn’t in it. Minho was obviously deep in thought. “Never go near the fence, no matter what.” Newt said thoughtfully.
“Because it’s too dangerous,’ Minho continued the frequent warning they had been given.
“That’s obviously a lie.”
They jumped. Thomas had snuck up beside them without them noticing. Newt remembered Thomas saying something similar several years ago. “Why do you say that?” He asked Thomas curiously.
Thomas shrugged. “Well, I don’t see anything threatening, do you? Besides, if it really were dangerous, wouldn't the fence be taller?”
Newt sighed, “Well maybe, but if Mama said it’s dangerous, then-”
Thomas cut him off, “You really love Mama, don’t you.” There was something mocking in his tone. Newt frowned. “What are you talking about? Everyone does.”
“C’mon guys, are you even playing?” They turned to see Gally running up with Winston, who was clutching Little Bunny as usual. Teresa, Chuck and Ben appeared on the other side, likely drawn in by the voices. “You already found Minho.” Teresa concluded, frowning in disappointment.
“We should get back, it’s getting dark.” Ben said, looking in concern at the sky, which was fast changing colors from fiery orange reds to cool purplish blues. “We don’t want Mama to get worried.”
Gally scoffed, slinging an arm over Ben’s shoulders. “You worry too much yourself.”
They stood there by the gate in silence. “I guess we’ll all be leaving the orphanage, at one time or another,” Gally finally said, staring at the small fence.
“Of course.” Ben answered, pushing off Gally’s arm. “It’s an orphanage, that’s how it works. Sometime before we’re 12, we’re shipped off to our foster families to live out there in the real world.”
“It’s strange though,” Teresa murmured “We’ve never gotten letters from anyone.”
“Maybe they’re being considerate towards their foster families.” Ben suggested.
“But we’ve grown up together.” Gally protested. “We’re all basically family, even if we aren’t related by blood.”
“I guess they’re having too much fun.” Teresa concluded gloomily. “I can’t wait to go outside.”
“What would you do?” Ben asked.
“Get new clothes for a start.” Teresa said crossly. “White is so boring.”
This set them off on a discussion about what they all would do when they went outside: Winston the animal lover wanted to go to the zoo and see all his favorite animals, Chuck wanted to see a train, Gally wanted to go out on a date with a cute guy, to Ben’s suspicious protests, Thomas gave his usual dark perspective, saying he would have to survive first, Minho was just excited for the chance to experience new things, and Newt? Well, thinking about it, he found that going outside would be exciting of course, but he didn’t really want to leave. They had such a great life here after all. He couldn’t be a Mama of course, but maybe he could help with the orphanage administration in some way. Winston declared that he would write to all of them when he left. Newt looked forward to it.
All too soon, it was time for Winston to go. Like all the kids before him, he saw them off with Mama at the door, dressed in a neat tailored suit and hat; the only time they were allowed to wear something besides their white clothes was when they were leaving the orphanage. Winston put on a brave face, smiling at all of them, but soon enough, he burst into tears. Newt could feel his eyes watering as Mama picked him up and the door shut with a final snap behind them. He could sense Gally doing the same out of the corner of his eye. Winston said he would call, but they never did, did they? He only hoped Winston would remember them, wherever he went. As they slowly dispersed, Newt caught Thomas’s expression. His face was carefully blank, as though he were trying to hide something. He glanced at Minho, who shrugged, head drooping. It was time to get on with their nightly cleanup routine.
The children spread through the house going to their assigned stations; Newt, Minho, Teresa and Thomas had the dining hall. Newt and Minho were first in, toting mops. Settling into the haze of the routine, it took them a few extra seconds to notice Winston's Little Bunny sitting innocently on the table. But notice they did. Newt gasped in horror. “No way!” Minho muttered.
The door opened again with a click and Teresa and Thomas walked in, talking about nothing in particular. Seeing Newt and Minho, they drew up short. “Winston’s probably gone by now!” Teresa said, eyes widening in panic.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Thomas said calmly. “The lights to the gate are still on and Mama hasn’t returned. Winston may still be here, so if you hurry, I bet you could make it.” Minho turned to Newt in determination. “Ok let’s do this.” He nodded, snatched up Little Bunny, and as one, they burst through the doors and flew down the grassy hill that led to the gate.
Panting heavily, they came to a stop in front of the gate, which was as dark and gloomy as ever, but halfway open this time, metals bars raised like the fangs of a monster waiting to swallow them up. “Never go near the fence, no matter what.” Newt said to himself. At night, the warning felt more real.
Minho smiled reassuringly at him “We may get in trouble for this, but we’ll do it together.”
"That cheers me up.” Newt muttered.
Under the glare of the outside gate lights, the corridor beyond was obscured in darkness, but as they passed under the bars, their eyes slowly began to adjust, revealing a truck with a drab brown exterior and thick white fabric closing off the back. Water dripped regularly from the ceiling, forming puddles on the ground, giving off an old, musty smell.
Minho climbed up to the driver’s door, peering through the window. “No one’s here.” He said, bemused.
Newt moved to the back, peering up at the heavy curtains. He initially assumed they were fastened together, but he could see now that they hung loose, a thin gap showing between them. “Maybe I’ll just leave it in the back for Winston to find later?” He suggested
Minho nodded “Good idea."
Newt reached up and pulled the curtains open. They parted slightly, and Newt dropped Little Bunny on the ground, paralyzed. “Uh, Minho?” He whispered, voice trembling. He couldn’t say any more, just backed away, a shaking hand pointing at the dark gap between the curtains. Minho hesitantly walked around to join him, glancing at him in concern, before turning back to the truck and gasping at the horror within. For lying there, gray and still, face strangely bloated, was unmistakably Winston. His matted brown hair rested in a pool of liquid matching that of the puddles. Newt wrinkled his nose at the overpowering stench, fairly certain now that it wasn’t water after all.
But this was Winston wasn’t it? How could it possibly be him? What could possibly have made him like this? Newt shuddered, unable to tear his eyes away. The color of his skin, it was - completely grey, like he had been dead for ages.
His whirling thoughts were interrupted by a gravely voice grunting “Hey, did you hear a voice just now?”
“Probably your imagination.” Another voice grumbled back.
Minho and Newt stared at each other in panic, and then dashed for the side of the truck closest to the wall and away from the voices, Newt turning around to grab Little Bunny. They heard a creaking noise as a door opened. Turning to each other, they nodded in determination, crouching down to crawl under the truck. It was best that they catch a glimpse of what they were up against. The bottom of the truck was close enough to the ground that they weren’t likely to be seen. From the shadows, they cautiously inched towards the sound of footsteps at the back of the truck, and clapped their hands over their mouths to hold in cries of terror. Two monsters walked past, cracked bony faces holding veiny green eyes stacked on top of each other. A giant, gnarled, six fingered hand lifted up Winston like he was a doll, dropping him in some vat of blue tinged bubbling liquid.
The demons were bickering about not being able to eat Winston; apparently he was valuable merchandise? Through his haze of fear, Minho did his best to catch the important points of their conversation, for some rationale behind the situation they were in. Another demon approached, along with an indistinct figure too far away to make out. The demon said that Winston was 6 years old, and so of average quality, but soon they would be able to harvest the high quality ones, namely the three with full scores.
Then the demon upended their world yet again. “Mary” it said. “Make sure to prepare the three with full scores.” Minho and Newt gasped, turning their heads past the demon. Sure enough, there was Mama, face like steel, dark brown hair in its signature bun.
Minho grabbed Newt’s arm, communicating with his eyes and sharp, trembling gestures. It was time to go. Mary and the demons were gathered at the back of the truck, turned towards the strange blue container holding Winston. If they were fast, they would be able to sneak past the front of the truck and out the gate.
Adrenaline giving them a boost, the plan went off smoothly, and they dashed up the hill, only stopping when they approached the lights of the house.
Newt collapsed to the ground, breath coming in harsh gasps approaching sobs. The cozy familiarity of the house clashed violently with what they had just seen and Newt desperately tried to rationalize it. “Minho,” he gasped. “That shucked out husk wasn’t Winston, was it? We must have been mistaken. This can’t possibly be a farm, Mama can’t possibly be working with those monsters.”
Eyes shadowed, Minho looked back at him. “That was Winston.” he said solemnly.
Collapsing to the ground, Newt screamed, tears falling from his eyes, not caring who could hear him. He felt a hand clasp his. “C’mon, let’s go.” Minho whispered brokenly. “It’s getting late.” The house was quiet, the other kids safely sleeping in their beds.
Thomas greeted them, blank expression visible behind the soft glow of his lantern. “Welcome back, did you make it?”
“No.” Minho muttered, and they brushed past him.
Minho sat on the edge of his bed and Newt curled up on the floor beside him. They were silent for a while, processing what they had seen.
“Newt, let’s escape.” Minho murmured. “If it’s just you, me and Thomas, I know we can do it.”
He shook his head. “I know it might be next to impossible, but I can’t leave anyone behind. I don’t want any more of my family to die.”
Minho lowered himself down to sit next to Newt. He smiled reassuringly. “It’s not impossible, let’s do it. Run away with everyone.”
“But how? We’re just kids.” Newt thought a moment and then his eyes widened in wonder and tentative hope. “We’ll outsmart them, it’ll be just like playing tag.”
“Exactly. We’re perfect scorers, we’ll find a way.”
Newt nodded, feeling, if not better, then less lost. The situation they were in was too horrible to comprehend, but functionally, it could be reduced down to its basic elements. They were faced with a difficult problem, but as with every problem, they simply needed to use the tools at their disposal to puzzle their way through. Luckily, Newt, Minho and Thomas excelled at this, having done it all their lives.
Newt stayed by Minho’s bed for a while, but eventually retreated back to his own. They had a busy day tomorrow, it was best to be well rested. Neither of them knew then that Thomas, loitering by the bedroom door, had heard their conversation. Nor did they know that Mama had found Little Bunny under the truck and was already on their trail.