Kidnapped// Maze Runner Fanfiction ✔

Chapter 8:

Newt had collapsed. He'd made it to the top of the staircase but could barely keep his eyes open. He sat there, nursing his migraine and resting his legs.

After a while, he forced himself back onto his feet and walked forwards. He'd only walked a few feet when the unimaginable happened.

The floor crumbled in on its self and Newt went with it. He fell like a sack of cement, along with concrete and metal.

He fell through two floors and smashed his head against rubble when he hit the ground. He lay there, in darkness, as rock settled around him.

Fortunately, he'd landed above the debris. That meant he wouldn't have to dig his way out. However, that didn't mean he was unhurt.

He could only move his arm slightly because the pain was awful. He'd most likely sprained it. His head was also throbbing twice as worse as it was, which meant a whole lot of agony and nausea.

He dragged his weak body off of the debris and was surprised to find he wasn't in as much pain as he thought. It still hurt, though.

Newt looked around, once he stood up, and saw dark passages leading off from his centre point. He was tired of dark rooms, so looked at the only light.

It was the hole in the roof he'd fallen through. Dust was still settling but Newt didn't care. He walked over and climbed on top of the collapsed rubble. He reached up, trying to grab hold of something to pull himself up, even though he could scarcely stand.

He tried and tried for several minutes. Each time his exhaustion became worse and worse. Newt decided to give up and find another way out before he became to overtaxed to fight for his life.

He started towards the most inviting tunnel but stopped when he realised he was grams lighter. Turning back to the sunlight, Newt looked for his pack of food and water.

He lifted up blocks and plasterboard and got on his hands and knees, searching under concrete that was to heavy for his frail arms. He finally decided that his bag was on another floor and had to move on. However, he had found a knife.

Turning towards the darkness, Newt giggled. He was in an awful situation but just couldn't help himself. It always seemed things got worse when he had poor hope.

Why am I laughing? Newt pondered. Isn't being crazy one of the signs of being a crank. Oh shit.

Instead of worrying, he limped into one of the lightless corridors, with his only defence, held before him in his undamaged hand.

He'd only been limping for a few minutes before he stumbled on something. Quite literally. The darkness concealed anything on the ground, so Newt hadn't noticed it until he was sprawled on the floor.

The 'thing' was solid but moved slightly when his foot hit it. It wasn't any particular shape and was moderately sized. Newt moved closer to make out what it was. He prodded it and felt that it was fleshy. The thing was a body.

Before Newt could decide if the person was dead, it twitched and then moved away in no more than a second. He jumped back in surprise and, even more, fright.

Once again he was in the situation of waiting for an oncoming attack, in the dark. Yet again he was nearing his peek fear level and was close to having a complete panic attack.

Instead of staying where he was, Newt continued to walk/limp in the direction he was heading. He was still in complete pain and knew if he were forced to fight, it wouldn't go well on his behalf.

He prayed quietly as he walked," I need your help Thomas, Minho and everyone. Please. Please help me. "

He knew his begging would be in vain. No help would come. He'd have to get through this on his own.

Newt had only walked a few metres when something else brushed alongside him. Something else or the same thing. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. The blackness was incredibly unnerving.

He was breathing hard, again, and stifled a scream when spindly fingers clamped around his ankle. He kicked at it with his other foot and tried to pull away. The grip was incredibly strong. Newt only just managed to pull himself free but in the process, fell to the ground.

Newt curled into a ball and sobbed, unable to pull himself up because of both pain and the fear of the unknown. He waited for the inevitable to happen.