Newt x Reader || A13

01 | box

When I open my eyes, my cheek is pressed against a hard, cold bar of metal.

I'm flying, shooting upwards. I watch, unable to make a sound, as I hurtle skyward through the lethal darkness, helpless against the pounding of my head, the grating of steel in my ears, and the unwelcome scathing of bars against my skin.

It is only when some gruesome, mutilated humanoid figure claws at the cage in which I am trapped, screeching so horribly loud that it resonates through my bones, that I find my voice.

Ragged screams rip from my throat in rags until it burns, and my voice becomes hoarse. The unyielding box continues to soar upwards in a seemingly endless tunnel of darkness, unrelenting.

When I open my eyes to the flashing lights once more, a metal trunk is hurtling towards me. There's a distant pain in my temple, and I close my eyes, capitulating to the darkness taking over.

This time, a silent darkness.

- - -

A deafening clattering startles me into waking. My eyes shoot open, and I find myself in the same metal cage as before. All around me, crates are littered, scattered from the violent ascension.

I blink once, eyes adjusting to the hazy light which filters in through grates in the ceiling. I scan the space for signs of life; finding nothing, I wonder if the creature I beheld earlier was merely a hallucination. I am left completely alone.

The sudden onslaught of laughter proves me wrong. Coming from above me, it sounds like that from a rather large crowd.

Another bang.

And then, light.

As soon as the box opens, light floods my eyes in swells; my hands instinctively cover my head as I keel from the abrupt intrusion.

"What's he look like this time?" A low male voice from above me.

"I don't know, can't see his face." A lower one.

"He's dreadfully skinny." Another voice. Raspy.

"Forget the greenie- what'd they send up this time?" A low, rough voice declares. At this, a couple murmurs of approval rise from the cluster of unknown speakers.

"Oh come on, Gally." There's another voice. It's kinder, softer, and laced with an untraceable accent.

Deciding lying plastered to the floor isn't the most wonderful first impression one can make, I remove my hands from my face, blinking twice as my eyes adjust to the lighting.

Finally, I look up. Cluttered around my earthen cage is a group of boys. Obviously unrelated, they're all young and quite dirty. Most of them wear neutral shades of white and brown with slacks and boots.

"Holy shuck, it's a girl!" One gasps. Everyone else remains silent. With a small grimace, I note the absence of females in the crowd.

"A girl?" Silence gives was as they begin to murmur amongst each other.

"Oh shuck off, you guys are gonna scare her."

A boy steps forward, arm outstretched before him.

Standing before me is a boy with swept up, sandy hair. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up around his forearms, which are caked with mud, and its drape reveals a narrow frame and boyish build. His brown eyes meet mine, and they're soft despite the dirt caked on his face and into his hair.