(NOTE: CHAPTERS ARE CURRENTLY BEING EDITED)
In which Teresa wasn't the first girl to come up in the box...
*This is a NewtxOC fanfic*
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Emma wakes up in a dark box, starting her new life with only memories of her name and a boy named Thomas...
the g...
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I've been having a hard time adjusting
I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting
I didn't know if you'd care if I came back
I have a lot of regrets about that
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Dread...
It's that sharp, uneasy twist in your gut.
The kind that lingers, whispering that something is wrong even when everything seems normal. Everyone around you doesn't seem to notice or care enough to feel it, but you can't shake the sense that the ground beneath your feet isn't as steady as it seems.
It's like the edges of a puzzle starting to take shape, but the image remains stubbornly blurred. As more pieces start to unfold, that knot in your stomach only tightens, urging you that this isn't what it seems.
The feeling won't leave, gnawing at you with each passing moment. Maybe it's paranoia, or maybe you're the only one who sees the cracks forming...
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The Gladers exchanged puzzled looks, the tension palpable. Emma peered into the Box, her hands gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Down in the steel confines, a girl lay unconscious on the floor, her clothes tattered and her face as pale as a ghost. She looked fragile, out of place amidst the cold, mechanical backdrop of the Box.
The air around the shaft felt charged, a sense of impending change thickening the atmosphere. Emma's heart raced, her mind scrambling to process what this could mean. She couldn't help but remember the sense of dread that had accompanied her own arrival.
She took a few steps back from the edge of the box, her breath coming in shallow, uneven pulls. A knot twisted in her stomach, that same gnawing sense of dread tightening like a vice.
She couldn't tear her eyes away from the girl lying unconscious in the metal container, pale and lifeless, like a warning that had come too late.
"This doesn't feel right," she muttered under her breath, her voice barely more than a whisper, but Thomas, standing close beside her, caught the unease in her words. He turned to look at her, frowning with concern, the worry in his eyes mirroring the turmoil in her own.
Newt, crouched beside the girl, inspected her face and the message clutched in her hand, his brow furrowed in confusion. But Emma's focus drifted past him, towards the other side of the box, catching Gally's eyes.
He stood stiffly, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed as he watched her intently, suspicion radiating from him like a physical force.
Of course, this was somehow going to be her fault as well, just like everything else was according to him.
