𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥 - 𝘕𝘦𝘸𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴

Ben

"Has anyone tried climbing to the top?" Thomas frowned, struggling to fulfill the task Newt had entrusted Thomas to complete — it was fairly easy: neatly bury the seeds on the floor, leaving one inch between the holes, but it required a bit of meticulous attention, which the brunet lacked.

"Tried it. The ivy doesn't go all the way to the top. And besides, where are ya gonna go from there?" Newt panted tiredly, watching Thomas mess up from the corner of his eye. They'd been trying out some tasks on the brunet, trying out what fit best for him, but none of the labors seemed to match his abilities. If Newt was around, Thomas dedicated all of his time to asking questions, the blond simply resigned to his fate, figuring it wasn't worth denying his child-like curiosity.

"And what about the hole of the Box? Once it vanishes, we can climb down with a rope," he pressed, his mind racing.

Newt kicked the rim of the shovel, concealing it deeper in the hardened dirt, and puffing to yank it from the ground. "It's too deep, too dangerous," he answered, biting his lower lip in effort.

"Okay, what if we—?" Started Thomas, but Newt interrupted him, a severe look in his eyes.

"No, we've tried it, all right? Twice. Anythin' you can possibly think of, we've tried. The only way out of here is the maze," he spat, reserving his remaining strength to lift the shovel, that seconds later lay motionless at his side.

Thomas groaned in response, lowering his eyes to the ground, where the bag of seeds had fallen down, spreading the tiny drop shaped objects all over the ground. He cupped his hands, collecting the seeds one by one with frustration.

"It's peaceful, isn't it?" Newt suddenly mumbled, regaining Thomas' attention. "I know it's hard to believe, but it wasn't always this way. We had dark days. We lost a lot of boys to fear — to panic. We've come far from then. Established order...made peace," he explained, his eyes dark, glassy; filled with vague nostalgia.

"Yeah. Why are you telling me this?" Thomas frowned, ignoring the seeds cascading downwards from his hands.

Newt blinked at him, an elusive grin curling his lips. "Because you're not like the others. You're curious," he tilted his head, studying him like a test subject. The brunet slouched his shoulders, feeling oddly exposed. "But you're one of us now. You need to know what that means."

Thomas instantly straightened his back in Newt's direction, as if he were compelling an order. "I want to. I can help, Newt," he met the blonde's eyes, kneeling as if he were begging for a single chance, his eyes wide and his jaw raised. "I really can."

Newt sucked on his lips, squinting at the peculiarly arousing position Thomas found himself in, and chuckled teasingly. "You wanna be helpful? Here," he nodded, glancing at a black, dirt stained barrel. He snatched it and threw it to Thomas' hands, whose reflexes barely worked fast enough to fetch it.

"Go dig us up some more fertilizer."

Thomas' eyelids instantly fell over his eyes in disappointment, — he scoffed, scrambling to his feet and giving Newt one last sour glance, hoping to convey his irritation with it.

"Just get the fertilizer, Thomas," he mocked, mumbling to his insides as he walked away. "Are you sure, guys? I can't help in any other way? No, just get the fertilizer. You know where it is. It's just out in the middle of the woods."

He could hear the echoes of several chuckles behind him as he distanced himself from the settlement — but he kept his head forward, ignoring the never-ending taunting, as he'd done for countless days. A few minutes of venturing deep within the forest were enough for him to eventually find the alleged area where they encouraged the animals to do their daily necessities — Thomas felt gradually more and more humiliated as he knelt down to fill the barrel. Not only the shame of bringing back a bucket of shit, but the smell! He was worth a lot more than that.