The box
Same time. Same day. Every week.
It was basic routine. Thats what the place had been for 3 years now.
Its what they lived off. Centered their lives around. Well, that and the maze. Every loving second of every loving day was lived in honor of the maze. Work was put in, lives were sacrificed. All in the hopes of one day finding a way out of the nightmare. It was tiresome. And honestly, some were starting to give up hope. After three years of endless running, mapping, and memorizing, there still was no hint of an exit. Was there ever even one to begin with?
The box came up.
Gears grinding, chains rattling.
One by one a croud started to form. Ready to help unload the big metal machine. This time there were only supplies. They weren't going to get a new person until the end of the month. For now it was only gardening utilities, canned goods, maybe even an animal or two if they were lucky.
Or so they thought...
The box came to a full stop. Two metal doors being pulled open. Same stuff as they got every week. Crates. Plows. Same old, same old. They rarely got anything new. If they wanted anything specific, they had to ask for it. Leaving notes in the box for the Creators to hopefully find. Even then it wasn't always guaranteed they'd be granted what they were asking for.
A few of the older boys got into the box. Ready to start handing stuff up. Routine. Always routine. When the stuff just stopped coming up.
"Um...Hey, Gally?" Minho asked. Unsure why the boys stopped hanging things up.
"No way." Gally murmured from inside the box. Clearly in awe of something.
"It can't be." Another said.
"This has to be a joke."
Newt shot Minho a look. Murmurs like that couldn't be good. It couldn't be something serious. The Creators don't send suprises.
"All right, what's all the fuss about?" Newt asked. Jumping down into the box.
There. On the floor of the box. Was sitting a little boy. Big brown eyes starring up at Newt. Who was towering over him.
A boy?
What was a little boy doing in the box. Wicked sent kids up. The youngest they'd ever sent up was Chuck. Who had to be at least twelve. But this was a little kid. Around four. Maybe five. He wasn't supposed to be here.
"NEWT! What's the holdup?"
"It's a kid."
"Like, a goat?"
"No you idiot! It's a real kid! A real human kid!"
"No way."
"Come see for yourself!"
So Minho did. Climbing down the box. Stopping right next to Newt. Eyes landing on the kid.
"Oh my gosh, it is a kid!"
"I told you slinthead!"
The boy was small. Eyes flickering from one boy to the next. He looked small. Sitting on the floor like that. Arms wrapped around his little knees.
"C'mon, help me get him out." Newt said, already reaching for him. But the little boy flinched, backing away. Until his back hit the wall. Now he didn't just look small, he looked terrified.
"Whoa! No it's okay! Its okay!"
But the little boy wasn't convinced. He kept himself backed up to the metal wall.
Newt crouched down till he was sitting. Making sure he was no longer towering the boy.
"Yall sit down."
"What?"
"Just bloody do it!"
One by one till all the boys were sat.
"This feels stupid."
"Zip it."
Newt turned his attention back to the kid sitting in front of him.
"Hey little guy, what's your name?"
Minho was right. This did feel stupid. The boy didn't answer. Just stared at Newt. Like he'd never been asked the question before. And for a minute Newt didn't think he was going to answer.
Until in a very shy voice he finally said.
"Thomas."
"Thomas huh. Well Thomas, I'm Newt, this is Minho, Frypan, and Gally."
Gesturing at himself and the boys around him.
Thomas followed his hand. Looking at the boys one by one. Like he was reading something only he could see.
"Well, you see Thomas, this box is gonna go back down soon. And if you're still in it, that's not gonna be a happy ending for you. So, what do ya say? Let's get you out, alright?"
Thomas thought about it for a second. Browns furrowed. Before nodding his head in agreement.
Newt carefully picked Thomas up. Hands under his little arms. Newt didn't really know how to hold a kid. Just held him out. Thomas' legs dangling. Feet kicking slightly.
Carefully, Newt passed him up to Minho. Who was already out of the box.
Gally and Frypan followed suit. Making sure everything else was out of the box before climbing out themselves. They shut the doors. And in minutes heard the gears groan again. Signaling the box was going down.
Newt turns to see Minho. Arms stretched out towards Newt. Still holding the kid.
"Take him." He says. Shoving Thomas over to Newt.
Newt blinks at him.
"Why me?"
"He chose you."
"He did not."
"Well I'm not keeping him. I've got a maze to run."
"Well I don't want him!"
Newt argued. Louder than he meant.
Thomas lower lip wobbled. Sniffling. Threatening tears.
"Okay okay! I didn't mea-fine! Just hand him over."
Newt took him back. Awkwardly holding him against his chest. The kid calmed down. That only lasted about 5 minutes. He took a deep breath, shaky, lower lip trembling.
"Oh no, no no no, don't you do that."
Too late
"Mommm!:
The little boy wailed. Heartbroken.
I want my mommy back!"
"No no no, hey its okay? You're okay alright?" Newt set him down on the grass. A croud already forming around him and the boy. Thomas didn't stay standing for long. He wobbled on his feet. Before falling. Sitting on the ground. Sobbing.
They all stared at him. Some confused, others concerned.
(LOL I've been working on this for a short time so sorry if its choppy its also my first story ever! Yall help me give me some name recommendations pls :)
