World Gone Mad (TMR fic 3)

Chapter 7

(song~) 

Again, it feels like they're purposely keeping me in a small area of WICKED so that I won't be able to map out where I am. It's frustrating, and I clench my fists as the guard pushes me into a small room with a chair and a tray of medical supplies.

A doctor glances up from drawing a substance into a syringe. "Ah, good. Subject A13. Just in time for your Phase Three. We'd like you to have a seat."

My skin is crawling as I sit down, staring at the instruments beside me. Phase Three? What are they going to do? How did they hurt Minho?

"If you don't mind," the doctor continues, "we need to study your physical response to pain now that you've been cured of the Flare virus."

The guard that escorted me sets his launcher to the side, well out of my reach, and begins wrapping a long bandage around his fists. He's going to hit me, isn't he?

The doctor holds me still with one hand. I don't fight as he pricks the needle into my neck and injects something into me. It burns.

"That's a chip that will communicate with your brain and read the data," the doctor says, sounding satisfied with himself. "It's a rather new invention, and we're excited to test it."

My vision is swimming slightly, everything feeling a bit wrong.

"That should be good, Hansel," the doctor tells the guard. His voice sounds distant in some way, even though he's right there. "Hit her."

The first punch hits the side of my face, cracking my head back into the chair. Everything hurts, but at the same time the pain is numbed by the strange burning injection that's thrumming in my blood.

I'm hardly conscious as the door is flung open.

"It's Subject A5," someone gasps. "Permission to terminate? He's too far gone to be saved."

"Damn," the doctor growls. "I was hoping we'd save that one. Hansel, bring the girl. She probably isn't aware of what's happening anyway."

I want to fight, but there's no strength left in me as the guard picks me up and walks down endless hallways. My mind can't map the route, it's too fuzzy. Something's wrong... something's wrong...

Subject A5.

Newt.

I gasp a little as it hits me. Terminate? They... they wouldn't kill him, right? They- they promised. They promised we would be safe.

He's in a glass container. When did we even get to this room? It reminds me of the Crank he killed in my memory. He looks completely haunted. Not mad, not yet, but it must be coming. He's crying as he stares at us, at me. He knows it's over.

The doctor stares at him, and sighs heavily. "Terminate. It's too dangerous to try and keep him alive now."

They hit a button that I can't see from my angle, and gas fills the glass box.

Newt screams soundlessly as the gas burns his lungs to shreds. He's throwing himself against the glass, trying to get free. Then he collapses, choking and twitching. He's dead.

I black out, the confusion swirling up in my mind and dragging me down a tunnel with no end.

~~
A/N: I'm... sorry? :P