Chapter 18 – Pain Is Gain (Part 2)

Author's Note: Hey all! There will be a part three to this, since the ending is kinda a bit dramatic XD But, it has been broken up because the next chapter is going to get pretty full on. By this, I mean there will be a bit of violence as well as the scene being a bit WTF. So, warnings are coming now for the NEXT chapter. This one does get a bit graphic at a few points as well, so just letting ya know! Enjoy, my Gladers!

GladerGirl621 xx

A breathless scream escapes my lips as I stagger backwards, trying to tug my gaze away but unable to. Everyone was there. Sprawled twistedly in a pile as if they were trash.

They're not trash…

My gaze darts back and forth between each of the bodies in horror, identifying faces.

Oh Lord, there's Thomas… Minho… Chuck…

My poor, sweet Chuck.

My knees give way underneath me and I fall to the floor, one hand clutching my middle and the other desperately covering my mouth in an effort to prevent more screams from escaping. My body churns uneasily and I turn my head just in time to vomit up whatever is in my stomach.

I cough and sputter through my sobs; the sorrow and pain ripping through me and cutting me open from the inside. I can't handle it. I can't do this. I fall on my front and grip at my hair, trying to pull it out as the heartache travels around gleefully.

Go over to it. A voice whispers in my head, and I hiccup as I try to quiet down in an effort to hear it better.

Go. Over. To. It. It repeats, forcibly.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I unsteadily stand up, a few remaining sobs leaving me as I force myself to face the pile.

Good. Now walk over and rummage around.

I almost resist, but figure that this is the only way I'm going to be able to leave. It's not real.

The thought seems to calm me as I stumble forward dazedly, trying not to focus too much on the limp bodies. Karma seems to want to torture me as I halt at the beginning of the heap, the smallest body staring up at me, covered in blood…

No.

The quicker you do this, the quicker you can get out.

Rummage around. Right.

I squint my eyes closed as tightly as I can as I begin to haul bodies to the side, flinching at the 'thump' they make every time they hit the ground. Lifelessly.

I try to ignore the last body that makes the loudest thump, but another cry involuntarily releases itself as I pull Chuck out of the way.

Breathe, Sable. Just breathe.

Taking my own advice I glance down at the space I have made in the middle of the bodies and see a small, tiny key laying there.

Good job. The voice giggles in my head cruelly.

I glare at the godforsaken key and snatch it up, turning away from the bodies as hastily as I can. I stand there for a moment, staring at the tiny thing in my hand until my vision blurs, just inhaling and exhaling.

Without any conscious thought, I turn around again and hesitate for a moment, before rushing forward and crumpling down beside Chuck.

I gaze deeply into his dead eyes, which seem to be accusing me.

You did this. They seem to be saying.

Shakily, I lean down and place a soft kiss on his cheek, not noticing the blood that covers it until I can taste it.

I walk around to each of the other bodies, giving them a kiss as well. If I don't make it through this, then at least I have had some sort of last goodbye; some form of closure.

I stand up afterwards, just closing my eyes and breathing for a moment.

When I eventually open my eyes, I can feel the determination seeping through me. I'm doing this. For them. For Newt.

I grip the cylindrical key in my fist tightly as I stalk around to the large metal door that has suddenly appeared behind me. I slide the device from my hand into the small slot waiting inside the door. It slips in with a satisfying click, and I take a step back to observe what happens.

The metal groans loudly as the key disappears, and I back up as it slowly begins to open. With each inch that it does, a blinding light grows stronger and stronger, to the point where I am forced to shield my eyes.

A shove from behind sends me stumbling forward into the light, and I sense rather than see another scene take place in my surroundings.

I breathe for a few moments, waiting.

Then I hear it:

"This is all your fault."

Its sounds garbled, strangled. Like I'm hearing something from underwater. Then I hear it again, and this time, it's louder.

"This is all your fault!"

It's clear, piercing.

I remove my arm from my eyes and gasp, wobbling slightly on my legs.

I'm standing on top of one of the walls of the Maze. It's a very narrow wall. I look down carefully and am hit with a wash of vertigo as I see how high up I am. Flicking my eyes upwards, I see that the horizon looks beautiful. Pink and yellow and orange. So peaceful. Ivy curls near my ankles, and as my gaze travels further in front of me, I spot another pair of feet.

I look up to the face of the beholder.

It's Newt.

"Newt?" I gasp, taking a careful step towards him.

"Don't come any closer!" He shouts, his brown eyes turning panicked and frantic. I frown in confusion. "Newt, wh-what…?" I trail off, actually observing the situation we're in now.

My relief to see him ebbs.

I see where he's standing and the expression on his face. He looks scared, angry and lost all at once. His feet are balancing on the edge of the wall.

"Sable, you made me do this," he says, but I'm not listening properly. He's…he's standing on the edge. "You made me do this, Sable. It's all your fault. You put me in this place!" The last part is a breathless sob.

"Newt, what are you doing?" I ask carefully, feeling my body tremble and fear take root deep inside. Because I already know the answer.

"This is the only way," he whispers. Gazing at me once more, I see a brief flash of sadness in his eyes before he places one foot out in suspended air.

"Newt, don't!" I scream and rush forward, already seeing his body plunge down, and his head disappearing. I reach out to grab one flailing hand, but I miss his fingers.

"No!" I yell, watching in horror as he falls down, his beautiful face staring up at me.

Just before he hits the ground, he's swallowed up by darkness; the floor of the Maze gaping open, taking Newt down into its depths. The abyss grows larger and larger, covering the remains of the Maze and travelling upwards towards me.

I close my eyes once more, a tear escaping, before I am swallowed up as well.

A rush is running through my ears, the noise so loud and terrifying. My body is shaking uncontrollably, the image of Newt falling to his death forever etched into my brain.

"No. No. No. I can't… no more," I whisper pathetically, wrapping my arms around my knees and body tightly.

The rush slowly fades, settling down to a gentle swell.

"Sable," a voice whispers in my ear, soothing me.

"Sable," it repeats again.

I open my eyes, but no scene has emerged. Just smog, and hazy grey clouds.

A distant shadow appears within the smoke; as it grows closer to me, its shape becomes more prominent and its colour darkens.

"Sable."

The voice is coming from the shadow.

When it's… face… is mere millimetres away from mine, it's as if a light switch has been flicked on. Because a scene suddenly materializes.

"Don't do it."

I blink, taking in my surroundings.

I'm in the Glade.

The rush of homesickness that floods me is remarkable. The sun is out and the trees are bright green. Birds are tweeting and the sky is a cloudless blue. Looking around, I realise no one is out. I shrug it off, unfazed.

The pure happiness that radiates from my home is quite ironic, considering the fact that hot, rushing fury is suddenly coursing through my veins, the nostalgia fading all too quickly.

The change in emotions is overpowering.

"Please, Sable. Don't do it."

The voice repeats itself, and I look down… down… down.

Newt, again.

It irritates me that I have to see him make yet another appearance. Why can't he just stay away? He's lying on his back, blood matting his face, his hair, his body… I don't know why, but this angers me more. He hasn't suffered enough and he needs to. The urge to pummel his face into the dirt is strong.

Glancing down at my hands, I see that blood completely covers them. Newt's blood.

In one of my hands, I'm gripping a wooden mallet from Frypan's kitchen tightly. This is coated in blood as well.

"S-stop," he stutters, spitting out drops of red.

I roll my eyes.

"Shut. Up," I drawl out, annoyed.

A tiny part of my head is nudging this new, angry side of me, screaming for me to stop what I'm doing. It's easy to squash, considering it's so small.

I raise the mallet and bring it down so quickly, that miniscule rational part of my mind cannot process what I have just done.

I feel the impact though.

The impact of the weapon colliding with Newt's cheekbone, smashing it. The shock reverberating throughout my arm. I hear Newt cry out, his face whipping to the side with the blow.

I feel alive, that one hit sending excitement through me. I'm unable to stop.

I repeat the action over and over, the mallet coming down again and again, until Newt's strangled noises of pain and pleading eventually fade. Even then, I continue. The bloodlust consumes me, the scene slowly pulling me back away from Newt's limp body.

"No!" I shout out loud, wanting to continue the attack, but I'm powerless against the strength of the vision.

I'm pulled away further and further, until the rage and desire to kill slowly ebb, clarity slowly sinking in with each millimetre I'm pulled away from Newt. His red body becomes smaller and smaller, and I gasp in horror at what I have done.

This time, when I attempt to crawl back to him, it is with a desperation to help, not to murder.

"Newt!" I've lost count of how many times I have had to yell out his name.

"This is the final stage, Sable," a voice calls out.

I am plunged into darkness.

I stay there for a while, floating. Drifting. I spin around in mid-air, twisting from side to side in an effort to see what will happen next.

What is the final stage?

It is both a relief and a fear to realise that after this, I will be free. I mean, I haven't died yet, right? I have been able to bear all the horrors that have been thrown at me, to test my reactions.

My body is almost mermaid-like as I twist and turn to see what's coming. Anything that will happen. My hair is swirling in tendrils in the air, adding to the effect.

"Prepare yourself, Sable," the voice warns, and I recognise that the high, lilting pitch belongs to Dr. Wilson.

I wait.

I hear the sound of what appears to be a heavy lever being pulled down, and my stomach suddenly drops.

Because I'm free-falling, but there is nothing below me. Except endless black.