Chapter Text
Thomas watched as the other Gladers vanished.
He'd had the biggest shock of his ... well, of his current life. After amnesia.
The Med-Jacks had already vanished, carrying the strange girl with them. Newt and Alby were just specs in the distance now, their backs facing Thomas. They'd just called a Gathering to address their current predicament; Thomas's arrival, along with a strange girl the next day-- which was out of schedule with new arrivals and improperly addressed for supplies--, her words; "Everything is going to change.", and then ...
He shivered at the thought of the ominous words written on it ... the note.
'She's the last one.
Ever.'
Before Thomas could trap himself within his own mind again, however, he blinked and was relieved to see Chuck had approached him.
"Chuck, what's a Gath..."
The question died in Thomas's throat when he saw the look on the young Glader's face.
The boy had stopped in his tracks on his way to Thomas, and now he seemed to be frozen in place. His eyes were wide, and his face had whitened. He didn't seem to notice as Thomas walked up to him.
Chuck jumped when Thomas laid a hand on his shoulder, and looked at the older boy. "Hm?" He squeaked, clearly spooked.
Thomas had jumped when Chuck did, and he suddenly felt very uneasy. "Chuck? What ..." He hesitated. The day had been rough enough. Did he really want to know what Chuck had seen?
After a moment of Chuck looking at him expectantly, Thomas swallowed. He had the strange feeling that he needed to know.
"Chuck, what's wrong?"
The boy simply stared at him for a few moments, and it made Thomas very uncomfortable. Then, Chuck suddenly began to move his arm. He slowly lifted it in a straight line that was pointing to his right. His hand was clasped in a fist, and his index finger ever so slowly uncurled until it was as straight as his arm.
And his hand was trembling.
Thomas's gaze followed the direction that Chuck was pointing. His stomach turned when he realized that he was pointing at ...
The Box.
Thomas froze in place just like Chuck had. For a second, so many emotions whirled through him. Illness, fear, hunger, exhaustion, curiosity. But, despite how he felt, the ultimate question needed to be answered.
Did he really want to see what was inside the Box?
Thomas's short life within the Glade had already been hard enough. He'd lost his memory and had been stuffed in a place with strange boys he didn't know, all of his questions had either been answered with a question or left unanswered, and he could feel that he was being judged about this girl he wasn't sure he knew. And now, a Gathering was being held, and Thomas had a sick feeling that he was going to be one of the main topics, despite the fact that he was just a ... Greenie ... like everyone else had been.
He was tired of it all, and this was only his second day. He felt exhausted, hungry, and in need of a smile.
Really, he could just walk away from the Box, taking Chuck with him. Then it would lower, and the problem would be gone ... right?
Or, what if it didn't leave. What if the Creators didn't close the Box until the Gladers looked inside? Was it life threatening? A challenge? Thomas didn't want to face such a thing.
Or, what if ...
What if it was something that could help them figure a way out of the Maze?
Thomas knew what he had to do. Looking around, he saw that nobody had seemed to notice them. Probably paying no mind to a couple of Greenies. He sucked in a deep breath, and stepped up to the edge of the Box.
But nothing could have prepared him for what lay inside.
His eyes became wide, and sweat broke out upon his forehead and palms. A chill raced down his spine while his stomach twisted. He swallowed down a gag.
In a shadowy corner of the Box, blood had sprayed across the two walls and on the floor. The thick, scarlet fluid had strange markings in it. Following the odd lines with a sick, unbreakable stare, Thomas's knees weakened when they led up to ...
A bloodied hand.
And the bloodied hand was attached to a bloody body.
A bloody girl's body.
The girl was covered from head to toe in blood. It was sickening; some of the viscous fluid shone in the light, but the hot sun had already dried some of it, too. It was beginning to cake the walls, and the places where it was on the girl were no longer dripping, but becoming visibly sticky. Her clothes were so soaked, it was hard to tell their original color, and parts were stiffening as they dried in the heat.
Looking at her face, Thomas realized she was beautiful, just like the last girl. Slender, with small hands and feet and a dainty figure, she even laid there with grace ...
Thomas shook his head while squeezing his eyes shut tight, nauseated with himself. It was a girl that was clearly hurt!
Swallowing, he looked down at her again. No wound marks were visible from the height of the Box, and the shadows the sun cast inside didn't help his view. She was clearly unconscious ... or maybe even ... de--
Before Thomas could finish the sentence, she suddenly let out a heaving cough, and he was disgusted yet concerned when a mouthful of blood poured down from her lower lip.
She was alive.
Before he knew what he was doing, Thomas looked at Chuck. "Stay here." He ordered, and the boy nodded without a word.
Then, before he could change his mind, Thomas turned on his heel towards the direction he'd last seen the Med-Jacks go. He broke out in a sprint, hoping he could find them before time ran out.
"HELP!", he screamed at the top of his lungs, " MED-JACKS! HELP!"
People had already turned his way, but the Med-Jacks never came.
Thomas continued running, never decreasing his speed.
"PLEASE, HELP! SOMEONE'S DYING!" He tried again.
And this time, he was met with the figure of a single boy racing to meet him.
Coming to help.