I 

am

fucking

pissed

and

crying

why

.

.

. 

***SPOILERS COMMENCE***

I KNEW A FUCKING CHARACTER HAD TO DIE, TO MAKE DRAMA, BUT WHY NEWT!? WHY!? WHY COULDN'T IT JUST BE FUCKING TERESA TO LAND IN ROCK BOTTOM!? (see what I did there?) I- NOOOOOOOO

THE FIRST TIME I READ THE PAGE

2

5

0

I DIDN'T REALLY MIND MUCH. THEN I REREAD IT, AND GOT INTO THE FANDOM AND WATCHED THE MOVIE.

NOW I'M BALLING MY EYES OUT. BLOODY HELL. 

I thought that since the Scorch Trials was 5% related to the movie they would change the fact that Newt died...

BUT NOPE. HAHAH, YOU LIKE THIS CHARACTER HUH!? WELL, IMA KILL THEM OFF NOW. FUCK YOU, FANDOM. 

FUFUFUFFUCK

I 

HATE

LIFE.

For all you maze runner fandom, i'm gonna give you something that bloody (started using this 'cause of Newts "Great, we're all bloody inspired." and i'm also 1/4th english so) should have happened.

And I present to you: My ending to: "The Death Cure, the third and final book in The Maze Runners' series."

The first thing he felt was confusion. How was he alive? The first thing he thought was... Well, how the bloody hell was he thinking!? The first thing he heard was the beep of a monitor. 

Then voices.

"He's awake."

"Good, I thought he was dead, for sure."

"It was worth it, we got the KillZone patterns."

It all sounded familiar. Then it clicked.

Rat Man.

Crank.

KillZone.

Flare.

Gun.

W.I.C.K.E.D.

Death.

...

Tommy...

"Isaa- Newt, I know you're awake. We have a monitor, you know." A voice said. It sounded close. He didn't open his eyes. The boy had a huge bloody headache. This was probably all another trick, another lie. If he opened his eyes, he would be in the afterlife, let it be hell or heaven.

Or something in between.

The boy was a Crank. The Flare had its hooks buried within him. Thomas had shot him, after he had begged and pleaded him to. The teenager didn't want to live anymore. Please let this all be some sick joke of Satan or some shuck. 

'Please let me just die, stop hallucinating.' He thought desperately.

Newt heard the monitor start beeping faster and faster as thoughts raced through his head. He just wanted to die.

Please.

'Leave me alone.' The boy thought. 

Then he felt the voices come closer.

"Newt, wake up. We need to talk to you." 

He ignored it. If the boy opened his eyes, this would all become real.

He didn't want it to be real. He wanted to be dead, rid of the sickness that thrives in the KillZone.

"Look, Newt, I know you must be terribly confused right now, nevermind scared, but-"

"Just shut up." Newt said, slowly propping himself up on his elbows. "Just shucking shut up."

The man raised his eyebrows. 

"You sure are lively, for someone who just got shot."

"I should be dead."

"But you aren't."

"Yeah, i'm not blind." The sarcasm in his tone was just made clearer by the accent lacing his tone.

Newt was now looking around. He was in a bed. As he felt his head, he realized he had a bandage on.

"Bloody hell, what did you do!?" Newt suddenly yelled. "I just want- I just want to be dead!"

The man shook his head sadly.

"I'm afraid we cannot let you do that, Newt. You are important for the cur-"

"So you need a bloody infected Crank for the cure? I don't believe that klunk for a second."

The mans eyes suddenly glazed over.

"Newt... You don't have The Flare."

Newt snorted, as he continued to glare at the man in front of him.

"Yeah, sure. That's why I totally didn't go crazy, and try to bloody kill Tommy!" Newt bit his lip, trying to suppress the dark void growing inside of him.

The man blinked.

"Well, we implanted something in your brain-"

"Oh, of BLOODY course you did!"

"Let me finish. We implanted something in your brain that made you loose sense and logical thinking over time. It made you, and everyone around you, think you had The Flare. We never expected you to ask Thomas to kill you, and we never honestly predicted that he would go through with it. If we had known, we would have taken a different approach. But it's too late for that now. Trust me, Newt. The cure is almost ready, thanks to your KillZone."

The man took a deep breath, and started again, before the boy in front of him could get a single word out.

"Newt, what i'm trying to say here is... You're immune. We made it seem like you are not. But you are. You always have been. So please. Forgive us. We saved your life. You are, whether you like it or not, alive, Newt, and we don't plan to have it any other way.

"Now, if you want, I could call the gladers over, if you wish. We have them in the next room. They do not know you're here. They all think you're dead, or close to it."

Newt was speechless for a good minute. Then he regained his voice. But, surprisingly, he didn't ask any questions. 

"So i'm not allowed to bloody suicide then? Good to bloody know, Harry Po'a." The boy said.

The man now looked faintly annoyed. 

"I'll get the Gladers then." He said. And with that, ignoring the protests from Newt, he left.

"Bloody shank!" Newt said angrily, picking up the nearest object - which happened to be a glass of water - and chucked it at the wall in anger. It surprisingly didn't break. Newt sighed angrily. Plastic.

He got up, and immediately felt something different. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

He paced back and forth for a while. Then he realized.

His limp.

It was gone. 

He blinked in utter shock.

"Bloody... What the shuck is this bloody klunk?" The boy asked no one, sitting on the bed to look. Sure enough, it did not hurt at all. He sighed. Then he heard a knock on the door.

He didn't answer; It wouldn't matter either way. Then he heard a voice, just before they opened the door. It made him stand up, his stomach feeling queasy.

"What are you talking about? He's dead- or will be soon." Minho.

"It cannot, it cannot be him." Thomas. The voice filled him with sadness.

"I bet my whole kitchen that this is another one of WICKED's nasty tricks!" Frypan. Defiantly Frypan.

"Boys, I know it is hard to believe, coming from me... So let me show you."

As soon as he opened the door, instead of adressing anyone, he said;

"I'm not just some bloody animal in a cage for you to swoon at, shank. Wow, it's a human, so amazing!" Rolling his eyes in annoyance, as if to complete the snarky remark. Then there was silence.

"Oh, my name's Newt..." The Brit suddenly said, breaking the quiet. Them he smirked.

"And welcome to the bloody Glade."