IT STARTED WITH A MAZE - Newt x Reader (F)

- VERITY -

"Alone?" Newt asks, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," I say firmly. The boys start murmuring among themselves as I move toward the ladder. "I'm coming up alone!" I warn the girl.

I hear a couple of boys chuckle. "What are the odds two chicks get sent in and they're only interested in each other?" One of them says.

Another can clatters down, and I hear an "ow!" from behind me. I smile to myself.

Then I continue climbing - one rung at a time - into whatever awaits me above.

At the top of the tall wooden structure, late afternoon sunlight slants through the gaps in the slats, casting long shadows across the platform. The girl stands there, gripping a small, sharp knife in her hand. The blade catches the light with a faint gleam. Her dark hair is slightly messy, strands falling over her pale face, and her piercing blue eyes dart around nervously.

"Woah, girl," I say softly, raising my hands in a peaceful gesture, careful not to startle her. The knife isn't fully pointed at me, but the tension in her fingers tells me she's on edge.

She blinks rapidly, her gaze flicking between me and the sprawling Glade below, filled with boys moving about in every direction. "Where are we?" She asks, her voice a frantic whisper. "What is this place? Why are there so many boys? I- I can't remember anything." Her words tumble out fast, almost like a panic attack breaking loose.

I shift down to sit on the rough wooden floor, leaning back against the railing and spreading my arms out as if to say, It's okay, I'm here. "I know it seems weird," I tell her gently, "but this is actually pretty normal. Everyone who's been here has gone through exactly the same thing. You're not alone in this."

She looks at me, blue eyes wide but searching, as if trying to find something familiar in my face. "Did you?" she asks, voice low.

I nod, swallowing hard. Saying yes feels heavier than I expected. It's not just a simple answer- it's a reminder of everything I've endured, the unnatural memories I try to keep buried. "Yes," I say, voice barely above a whisper. "Your name will come back to you soon. It always does."

Before I can say more, she cuts me off softly but firmly, "Teresa."

Her own voice sounds strange and distant, but I catch the flicker of recognition in her eyes. "Teresa?" I repeat slowly, as if trying to confirm it to myself.

She nods again, more confidently this time. "Yeah. That's my name."

I give a small, relieved chuff - something like a quiet laugh - and smile at her. "Teresa, I'm (Y/n)." I watch her face carefully, wondering what else is locked away behind those sharp eyes. "Although... you already knew that?"

She bites her lip and looks down for a moment before meeting my gaze again. "I also know a Thomas," she whispers, almost like a secret. "But I don't know why. When I woke up, they said I kept repeating your names. Why?"

My eyes follow the edge of the platform, past the wooden beams, to where the boys are still bustling down in the glade below. I point toward a figure in a long-sleeved blue shirt, moving through the crowd. "Thomas? He's just down there, see?" I say. "Long blue sleeves. Dark hair."

Teresa leans over the edge, peering down cautiously, then pulls back, turning those searching blue eyes back to me. "(Y/n)?" she says quietly.

"Yeah?" I answer.

"What's going on?" Her knife has lowered now, and though the tension is still there, it feels more like curiosity than fear.

I sigh, the weight in my chest pressing down on me. "I really wish I had a solid answer for you, Teresa," I admit honestly. "I wish I could tell you everything - who we are, why we're here - but I don't know it all myself."