CHAPTER 12 - Broken

                                    

                                          

We wait in the dark for what feels like hours, however I know it must have only been a few minutes. Everyone's panting and wheezing, or crying, or both. My chest feels heavy with the realisation of sudden death. All those boys... all those dead bodies, at the bottom of those pits, or lying on the cold Maze floor, Grievers swarming over their lifeless bodies... the thought sickens me.
I hear a door creak open to my left. Whipping my head around, I can see a slither of light where the door inches open. I see dark, ghost-like faces around me, before realising that those are the faces of my friends. 
Everyone moves forward, slowly, to where the door is. No one appears to be opening it, standing on the other side, waiting for us. I'm the first to push the door open timidly.  
Stepping out into a large corridor, everyone glances around, silently taking in everything we see. Spluttering pipes cover both walls on either side of us, gathering dust. The corridor is long and wide, with a few dim, flickering lights above our heads. 
Suddenly, bright yellow lights fill my vision. I wince as my eyes adjust to the brightness. It reminds me of when I first woke up in the Box, bewildered and alarmed, much like how I'm feeling now. 
No one talks at we walk along the corridor – me limping, still in pain, my arm slung over Newt's shoulder for support, his arm gripping onto my waist in a protective hold. The pain has become bearable enough. Either that, or I just haven't noticed it anymore with everything that's been going on. 
We come up to a large silver door, with two lights at the side of it. One green, one red. The green one is lit up, indicating that the door is open. Above the door, a sign reads 'exit'.
"Seriously?" Frypan asks incredulously. I must admit, it does all seem rather easy – too easy. The irony of the situation forces a weak, bitter smile to appear briefly on my lips, shaking my head in anger. Thomas exchanges a worried glance with me before reaching for the door handle, and pushing the door open. Everyone holds their breath, expecting the worst to be behind that door.
The door is fully open. Another corridor is on the other side, but this one's different. Quiet alarms are ringing, dead bodies are slumped against the wall. The bodies all have white lab coats on. A shiver runs down my spine as I remember my dreams. The scientists. 
Broken shards of glass scatter the floor, and the lights keep fading on and off eerily. We edge closer to the end of the corridor, where a room waits for us, door wide open. I gasp as I take in everything in the room. In the middle is a large table, with a vast electric hologram in the centre. More bodies lie on the floor, puddles of blood staining the sleek white floor. The walls are covered in more screens, some showing blueprints, others showing images of brains. Then, I see one screen which grabs my attention. The Glade. 
Newt sees it too. His mouth is open slightly as he walks towards it, his expression filled with immense sadness. 
"So they were watching us," he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "This whole time. While we – while we watched our friends die... they were watching it happen. Like... entertainment." 
He hisses that last word, gritting his teeth together. I feel guilt seeping through my body, filling my chest and making my mind heavy. I watched them. I watched them while they suffered, fought for their lives every single day. And I could've done something about that, surely?
Newt notices my head sinking, my hands shaking. He moves closer to me, grabbing both of my shoulders, looking into my eyes intensely. 
"I don't blame you, (y/n), none of us do," he says in a low voice, reading my mind. "This wasn't your fault."