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

- ARIS -

Thomas and I sit in silence for a beat longer, just listening to the distant hum of the hallway below us. Then I look at him. "We need to tell the others."

"They'll think we're crazy," he mutters. "They already do."

I narrow my eyes. "I disagree."

He gives me a tired look. "They just hide it better around you." That stings more than I expect. But I say nothing. He gestures for me to follow. "Come on."

So I do. We crawl back through the vent system in silence, through the cold, winding tunnels. No more talk of skeletons or missing people. Just metal scraping under our knees and the growing certainty in my chest:

Something's not right.

When we make it back to the dorm, no one stirs. The others are still asleep - Newt's breathing slow and even above me. Minho sprawled across his bunk like he owns the place. Frypan snoring faintly. The room is quiet, peaceful. Too peaceful.

We don't wake them.

Thomas climbs into his bed. I crawl into mine.

But sleep doesn't come easy.

~~~

When Newt asks if I slept well, I hesitate. There's so much I want to say, but the words feel heavy on my tongue. I let it slip - what Thomas and I saw, the shadowed figure in the vent, the woman in the lab coat, the body on the stretcher with the glowing skeletal scan.

Newt listens quietly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. When I finish, he sighs. "Look, we don't fully know what you saw. It's creepy, sure. But we shouldn't jump to conclusions." His voice is calm, logical - trying to steady the fear rising inside me. "Until we have facts, we need to stay hopeful. We can't let paranoia take over."

Later, in the cafeteria, we tell the others - Minho, Fry, Winston, Jack, Mikey - what happened. I explain everything Aris said about the people who never come back, the eerie nighttime rounds.

Thomas frowns. "Aris has been here longest. If he says something's off, we should listen."

Minho raises an eyebrow. "Who's Aris again?" Thomas points toward the corner where the kid sits, hood pulled low over his face.

"Promising," Winston mutters, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

I sigh and rub my temples. "Until we know more, we should keep our heads down. No need to stir trouble or attract unwanted attention," I say logically.

Newt nods firmly. "Exactly. We've got to play it smart."

The day that follows is a blur of nothingness. We sleep on and off, play card games, eat the same bland meals. I try asking guards about my father, but they refuse to take me to him - no explanations given except that 'he's busy.'

Dinner comes around again, the room filling with chatter and clinking cutlery. Janson stands at the front, reading names in his cold, clipped voice:

"Alice. Barry. Walt. Edgar. Samantha. Aaron. Dennis. Sally. Henry. And last but not least, Mikey."

I say goodbye to our friend more hesitantly than usual, watching him stand and join the others called forward. Janson finishes, "Thank you for your attention. Enjoy your evening," then turns and leaves without so much as a glance my way.

I lean toward Newt. "I'm worried about these kids."

He shrugs. "We've been over this. You saw something covered up, yeah. That's weird, but it doesn't mean it's evil."

For now, all I can do is listen to his sense. "Okay, you're right, Newt," I say quietly, trying to steady my nerves. I want to believe him - want to hold onto hope - but Thomas doesn't seem convinced. He suddenly stands, jaw tight, eyes burning with something fierce. "Hey," I scold softly, reaching out to stop him, but he's already moving.

"What is he doing?" Newt asks, alarmed.

"I think he's drawing attention to himself," Fry replies, his voice low and tense.

Thomas strides purposefully toward the group of kids whose names were just called. His steps echo in the suddenly quieter room. My heart thuds against my ribs. Before he can get far, a guard steps forward, placing a firm hand against Thomas's chest. Their faces are close; I can't hear what they're saying, but the guard's grip doesn't loosen.

Thomas tries to push past, but the guard shoves him back. He moves forward again - and again, the guard blocks him.

The harsh crackle of the speakers cuts through the room, and a cold digital voice fills the air: "Just remember, you're always being monitored. Breaking the rules will have consequences." The words resound ominously, drowning out everything else for a moment.

"Let's get his ass before he gets us all into trouble," Minho hisses under his breath, eyes flashing with anger.

We all stand quickly, the tension snapping tight like a wire ready to break. Thomas shoves the guard hard. The guard shoves back with equal force, voices rising into a fierce shouting match. "Thomas!" I scold, panic twisting my stomach.

"Control your friend!" The guard barks, struggling to keep Thomas in check.

Newt and Minho move fast, pulling Thomas back. Fry and Winston start yapping, their voices frantic and nervous, adding to the chaos.

Then, from the heavy door at the front, Janson appears, his expression dark and furious. "What's happening here?!" He demands, stepping forward like a storm. "Thomas, I thought we could trust each other," Janson says sharply, eyes locking on him.

I step forward, voice steady despite the adrenaline. "Actually, I have some questions."

Janson's gaze snaps to me, his jaw clenched tight, clearly irritated. "You know we're all on the same team here," he says coldly. "Let's go somewhere to talk." He gestures sharply. "Get the rest of them to their bunks."

Newt steps beside me, voice low but urgent: "Hey, wait, (Y/n)-"

"Don't worry," my father interrupts with a forced smile, his eyes glinting something unreadable. "She'll be with you soon. But if she wants to talk, I'm all ears."

~