Ode to the Wicked » Newt

one

i. ❝Iғ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀ Gᴏᴅ﹐ Hᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɢ ғᴏʀ ᴍʏ ғᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇɴᴇss.❞

She came to when light began to shower down. At first, it was more of a trickle, though it soon progressed in grandeur. From the gold light that barely illuminated her surroundings, the girl could see wooden crates on either side, some accompanied by other smaller, random supplies. It was noisy—she was going upwards—and she was completely terrified, to say the least. But something inside her kept her seated; so she waited, scared but quiet, as the brightness got closer, and the box she was trapped in stopped moving.

*

“Shuck.”

Those were the first words she heard. She had no idea what they meant and she did not have much time to process them before the voice was drowned out by several more. Her head rose and she was greeted with too many faces to count. All male. Her presence seemed to fling them into chaos; some seemed enthused and others enraged. And still, she sat calmly, even taking a moment to look over herself. The girl attempted to gather her thoughts. Right: she was surrounded by what looked like thirty boys, give or take, and all they seemed to be able to do was whisper about her gender; she could not remember anything personal, and she had no idea what the hell ‘shuck’ meant.

Abruptly, she stood up. The boys fell silent and all eyes were on her once again. “Can I get a little help, maybe?” she asked, shocked by the strength of her own tone. She saw one boy leap forth but he was shoved back. The one who had roughly pushed the younger boy stepped closer and kneeled down, flanked by a skinnier, blonde male. She could sense the air of authority that pursued them. Her eyes remained on the blonde.

“You got a name, Greenie?” the first boy asked as he offered his hand, which she accepted. She was helped up by the both of them.

She shook her head. “No, apparently not.”

“You’ll remember it within a few days,” the blonde piped up and she realised he was of British descent. “I’m Newt, and this is Alby.”

The girl looked between them with a faint smile. “Hey.” Being around others had calmed her down, even if she had been thrown into a hectic situation. However, one thing bugged her more than all the whispering: Newt. She looked back at him and found him staring. It would not have been odd, given the circumstances, but his gaze was far too intent for her liking. Her eyebrows rose ever so slightly. Something in her head (and possibly her heart)—too far away to catch—bumbled mindlessly, and she had an inkling that perhaps it was a thought to do with Newt.

“You don’t have any questions?” Alby interrupted incredulously. She pursed her lips and thought for a moment.

“Uh, what does shuck mean?” Laughter rippled through the crowd of nameless boys.

“C’mon, Greenie,” Alby chuckled. “Let’s get you settled.”

*

One thing Alby did tell her was not to go into the maze without permission. The rest, he said, she’d learn tomorrow. She could accept that; it was probably better to not piss off her potential captors. As suave as she seemed, she really was still a little scared. Here she was, the only girl, enclosed by four giant walls, and some farm animals. An adolescent’s dream. At least the sheep were cute, she supposed. Too bad they were being served for dinner.

She eyed the boys who sat at the table once more, watching them scoff down their meals. Newt’s smirk caught her attention. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he said. “It’s not poisoned. Promise.” She looked down abashedly, hoping her brunette hair would cover her rising blush.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, causing those closest to her—Minho, Alby, Gally, and Newt, to laugh.

“Newt’s no liar,” Minho added, elbowing the girl with a grin. “Eat up.”

*

The Glade had thrown her a Greenie party that night. Except now, it was absent of the Greenbean. She had found her way to the walls out of curiousity. The party, no matter how loud, couldn’t conceal the sounds erupting from the maze. The churning, creaking noises were like an invite and she was just now accepting it. She ran her hands along the cold, rough stone, walking until she reached one of the exits. She stared at the walls momentarily, almost as if she expected something to happen.

“Not trying to escape, are you?”

The girl bit her lip to stop herself from crying out in shock. She retracted her arms and turned around, stifling any guilty tick that may have been lurking. She looked at Newt with a smile. “You guys weren’t kidding. Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

He returned the smile although his expression turned as ominous as his next words. “Do you want to see what’s behind the walls?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she glanced over her shoulder. “The doors are closed…”

“I know.” His tone was innocent, and it only confused her further. She accepted his outstretched hand and followed him.

Newt took her to one of the darker corners of the glade. Once there, he began to push away some of the vines on the wall; when he was done, he stepped back and watched her expectantly. She peered at the hole that had been carved, and then back at Newt, now hesitant. The walls closed for a reason….but did she really want to know why? She looked down at their hands realising they were still entangled. She smiled briefly, defeated, and then took her chance.

Half a minute passed before the girl spoke. “Holy hell,” she breathed out.

“We call them Grievers,” Newt informed her, standing much closer than she remembered. She looked up at him, wide-eyed. He continued. “You know, you’re pretty calm about all of this. I’m surprised you didn’t end up sprinting away like most Greenies do when they get out of the box.”

The clacking and whirring continued on and the girl remained still, staring at Newt. After a moment, she shook her head and turned towards the hole. She hurriedly pushed the vines into their original place, eying the Grievers that lurked in the shadows of the maze walls. She stumbled back a couple of steps once done, almost falling over in her haste. Newt caught her elbow, steadying her. “I am never, ever, ever becoming a runner, and it is of utmost importance we move away from this spot,” she said finally.

“Good that.” He laughed. “You’re the best décor this place has.”

The Greenie bit her lip to hide her sudden giddiness. “This way, then. The furniture has to make an appearance at her own bash.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Newt protested, shambling after her. He caught up, ready to apologise profusely before he noticed the smirk slapped across her face. “Shucking Greenie,” he groaned lowly, but he found himself fighting a smile.