All That We Were | NEWT (tmr)

Three | LOOK INTO THE LIGHT

Night Two

The journey back to The Glade was nothing more than a haze. She couldn't remember the muffled voices of Alby and George speaking to her with such horror and desperation, couldn't remember them guiding her by the arms and escorting her from that narrow hallway where she had undoubtedly seen the worst thing she had ever been forced to see.

The image of Luke's body — twisted and broken and torn to shreds, mutated almost beyond recognition — was imprinted into her mind, his terror-filled expression branded onto the insides of her eyes as she nestled further into her hammock and willed her mind to sleep.

But sleep wouldn't come, even as she nestled her cheek against the soft material beneath her.

She was vaguely aware of Alby tossing and turning in the hammock behind her, and she could hear George and Carson's snores from the other side of the room. Her little friend was murmuring something in his sleep, sounding terrified, calling out for his mother. She wanted to get up and help him, wanted to soothe his fears and tell him everything would be okay, but she couldn't move.

They hadn't been able to move Luke's body. It was far too high up and tangled in the ivy for them to reach it, and even if they had been able to there wasn't enough left of him to transport in one piece.

They had no choice but to just leave him there.

Trapped in her own body, her own mind, she was helpless. And that was far worse a prison than the maze that they were held in.

Something had killed Luke. Something brutal and vicious and nightmare worthy had cut her friend down as if he were butter. The way his body had been mutilated . . . Nothing human could do that, and no animal she could fathom could possibly possess that power and bloodlust. Whatever had done it was a killing machine, and it was still out there somewhere.

Ada sighed and rolled over, watching the stars in the sky flicker and gradually disappear as the sky, now a deep purple smattered with hues of gold, slowly began to lighten.

They still had hours before the doors would open again. Before they could go into the Maze. The only problem was now, after what she'd seen happen to Luke . . . She wasn't sure she wanted to.

There was a groan from the other side of the room, and Ada winced as she watched George's eyes crack open before blinking thrice and closing once more. Brown curls flopped from his forehead and onto his eyes. She smiled slightly.

At least someone was getting a good night's sleep.

A flicker of movement from her left snatched her attention away from her thoughts, and Ada frowned as she turned to watch one of those lizard things scuttle onto the edge of her hammock. Its eyes were still that blinking red, watching her. She had no doubt that it was a camera, not after what had happened in the maze. Whoever was watching them was wanting a show, apparently, and the thought of being observed like lab rats had her skin crawling unpleasantly. It perched on the thick linen, and paused, waiting. For what, she didn't know.

"Are you happy, now?" Ada asked, her voice cracked and quiet with disuse. Moisture welled in her eyes. "Are you happy now that Luke's dead? He's gone." The lizard creature scuttled closer a fraction until the cold metal of its side was pressed up against her pinkie finger. She frowned, and couldn't hold in the tear that tracked its way down her cheek.

Why wasn't it attacking her? Luke had held his hand out to one of them and it had bitten him, yet here it was, docile and tame.

The lizard — a beetle blade, she decided — shuffled onto her hand with a mechanical buzz of movement. Ada gulped, frozen, but not afraid, and watched as those brilliantly red eyes seemed to flicker at her.

Someone was watching her, she was sure of it, but this someone felt like more of a friend than foe.

Another grunt came from George's direction, and the sudden noise made the beetle blade scurry away from her and onto the wall, watching the room from above. Ada sighed, glancing up at the still dark sky, and decided she might as well get moving if she wasn't going to sleep.

The smell of morning grass met her as she toed on her black boots and made her way towards the large forest, the dew making the blades damp and crunchy beneath her feet. The forest was a vast array of towering trunks and lush greens, and she ducked beneath a low hanging branch as she left the glade behind and got lost in a world of peace.

It was calm in that forest, Ada noted with a small smile. Calm, peaceful, beautiful. There were the telltale sounds of birds whistling their greetings in the trees, and branches would occasionally stretch at head level and force her to duck her head. The silence felt different here than it did in the glade, no longer as oppressive and stifling.

Eventually she found herself in a small clearing, a grassy expense of coarse dirt surrounded by towering trees that blocked out a large amount of the purple sky above her. Stars still splattered the heavens, painting the universe with pinpricks of light. Her eyes landed on the tree in front of her, where branches and clumps of wood were haphazardly tossed against the trunk of a tree, as if someone had had excess material and didn't know what to do with it.

Maybe it was the people who built this place.

Heart heavy, an idea struck her, and a small, albeit sad, smile crept onto her face. A grave. She would build a grave. It didn't feel right to not have something to remember Luke by. She hadn't known for long, no more than a few hours at most, but the fact that he was gone from the world forever with nothing left behind didn't feel right.

And with that thought weighing in her mind, the image of Luke's twisted and cut up body pressed against the inside of her eyelids, she got to work.

The sky was considerably lighter when she finally sat back in the dirt to survey her work. The grave was a shabby thing: a simple cross made from two planks, held together by thin strips of ivy she had taken from the maze walls. They were a lot more intimidating up close. She had taken a rock and sharpened it to the best she could before carving a rather unimpressive Luke into the wood.

She smiled slightly and made to get to her feet when something fell out of her pocket. Something gold. A chain.

Luke's chain.

Ada sobbed.

For the first time she had arrived in that mysterious place, she sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed until her head span and her lungs ached, her body on fire. Maybe it was the suddenness of it all, the disaster after disaster, the knowledge that they were trapped and guarded by something that could slaughter them so easily, but all the fear came bubbling to the surface and she couldn't for the life of her keep it down. She curled into herself, shaking, and didn't hear the footsteps approaching until someone sat next to her in the dirt.

George's face swam into her vision, blurred through the tears. He didn't touch her, didn't speak, simply smiled sadly and sat there beside her, staring at the grave, letting her cry.