(Right Arm Headquarters; Newt's POV)

Even before they took the bag off my head, I sensed they were leading us underground. It wasn't just that the air around me was getting cooler. Somehow, I could just tell. And for some bloody odd reason, knowing that calmed me down. My head even started hurting less. As soon as we got here; wherever here bloody is, Lawrence's people took our masks off and said we'd be free to move around the complex as long as we didn't try to leave. They told us they would get us something to eat and showed us to their mess hall.

"You ok Newt? You're lookin' kinda pale." Fry said.

"Yeah, Fry. Don't worry about me Shank. You ain't gettin' rid of me that easy."

As we walked, we got our first look at the place. I was right about it being underground but this wasn't like that sand-swallowed hell hole we ended up in after breaking out of WCKD's outpost. No, this place was built as a cellar on purpose. I overheard one guy saying it was part of a water treatment plant for the city before the walls went up. Whatever it used to be, it looked like a bloody fortress now. The doors were reinforced steel that seemed to lock automatically when closed, and everything else was made out of the same shade of gray concrete as the Maze. In a couple of places, I saw the letters W-C-K-D crossed off the walls with graffiti. I did my heart good to think whoever these guys were, they were actually taking ground from WCKD.

"For a post-apocalyptic rebel base, this place doesn't look too bad," Minho said.

He was right. It wasn't that anything in this place was making an effort look pretty, but it didn't look like a bloody refugee camp either. If Lawrence was the man in charge, he ran a tight ship.

"Man, I couldn't even keep my kitchen this clean," Frypan said.

Eventually, we made it to a big room with a bunch of mismatched tables and told to wait here. Five minutes later, the same guy returned with a pot of noodles and some plates. The food smelled alright. But trying to eat it made me nauseous. Minho and Frypan didn't seem to have the same problem. Those two could probably eat a pair of Tommy's old runnin' shoes and still ask for seconds. Watchin' them just made me feel sicker.

"Fellas, I'm gonna go find some air."

Minho nodded.

"Ok man-" Frypan mumbled with half a mouth full of food.

I left off by myself and wandered around to clear my head.

The main corridors were lit with fluorescent lights hanging overhead. I took a turn down a smaller hallway. It was darker, but I could still see fine. At least, until some guy with a flashlight practically blinded me. It was some stocky fella wearing coveralls that didn't fit. He fell back like I'd jumped out at him and yelled boo.

"Whoa! Why the hell are you wandering around in the dark!?"

As my eyes slowly adjusted to his light I realized just how dark it was. Like pitch black. But I could make out details in the darkness I never could before. I saw him reachin' for something on his belt. It looked like a gun.

"Wait!, uh just wait-"

I tried to grab his wrist but he pulled back. He pointed the flashlight back in my face. The bright light in my eyes felt like an icepick. It hurt so bad my vision went blurry. I lost my balance and ended up on my hands and knees as the room started spinning. I felt like gravity turned sideways and the only thing keepin' me from slamming through the brick wall beside me was my grip on the bare floor. Everything went black...

Next thing I remember I was on top of some guy who'd been beaten to a pulp. His face was so swollen there was no recognizing him, He was clutching his throat like he couldn't breathe. I stood up.

"Hold on! I'll get ya some help!"

He squinted at me through the only eye he was able to open. He looked terrified; like I was some bloody monster. I saw a couple of guards runnin' my way from the end of the corridor.

"Hurry!" I called out to them. "This guy's been beat bad! I don't think he's gettin' enough air!"

I turned around to let him know help was almost here.

"You're gonna be fine. Just rela-" I felt a massive knock on the back of my head. Everything went black again...

This time when I woke up I was restrained in a dark room with a bunch of makeshift medical machines around me. My head felt like a bomb had gone off inside it. That's when I heard the man's voice.

"Believe me Newt, I know exactly how you feel,"

It was Lawrence, all I did was shift my eyes to look at him because it hurt too bad to say a bloody word.

"-The first time is always the worst time."

"W-where... Am... I?"

"Safe. For now. But for how long depends on you."

"Why a-am, I... Tied up?"

"That's how civilized people deal with killers. And since you beat one of my maintenance engineers to death in spectacular fashion, you are now my problem to adjudicate."

"Wa-wait... That wasn't me."

Lawrence's cheeks curled back into a sinister smile. I could see missing teeth where part of his upper jaw had rotted away.

"If you don't believe me look at your hands."

I turned my palms up and glanced down slowly. They were covered in dried blood. It was caked under my fingernails. I shut my eyes hoping it was all a bad dream. Wishing the nightmare could just be over.

"But I believe there is still hope for you Newt. That's why we're having this little chat instead of my guys taking wagers on how many bullets it takes to kill you. If you accept my offer then your luck is about to change for the better."

When I opened my eyes Lawrence held up a small vial of purple liquid. I forced myself to speak clearly even though it hurt.

"If I'm a murderer who killed your man, why bloody bother to help me?"

"-I never said you were a murderer Newt, I called you a killer. There's a difference. A father defending his child can become killer but that hardly makes him a monster. Killer's are merely reacting to their circumstances. Murderers orchestrate the circumstances to achieve their own ends."

Lawrence moved closer with the vial and continued.

"You killed an innocent man, yes. But you are both the victims of men playing God. Caught up in the aftermath of their arrogance. I have dedicated my entire adult life to destroying their unnatural order while they try to control who lives and dies based on prejudice and class bigotry. I find this concept objectionable."

My head hurt so bad I thought I was about to die. But I couldn't keep myself from speaking.

"-So do I."

Lawrence reached up and placed the purple vial in my IV.

"Then Newt, together, we will punish the real murderers."

(Hope you enjoy! More soon :)