OH REBEL CHILD , WHERE IS THE MOON? WHERE GOES IT’S SHINE , LATE NIGHT IN JUNE. WHERE IS THE LIGHT , WHERE IS THE SUN? IF SHADOWS HIDE WILL MORNING COME? the door was made of the kind of shinning metal thomas was certain bullets could not go through. and for that , the minute it had been locked on him he had known he was TRAPPED. windows seemingly a foreign concept to wicked’s architects , the only other way out his recently acquired one mattress apartment looked to be the small wall slit through which someone pushed his lunch and dinner at exactly the same time every day. a timing he was very familiar with , considering he had spent a good part of his first days in captivity counting exactly how many seconds between every delivery. as for the rest of his time? he knew what needed to be done , newt’s words ringing stubbornly in his ears every time the idea of giving up even dared lurk into his brain. YOU GET LAZY , YOU GET SAD. START GIVING UP. PLAIN AND SIMPLE. so he stayed BUSY. every morning , he awoke at the same time , made his ridiculously simplistic bed and kept his body and mind moving. from push - ups to reciting the few glader’s names he somehow had stored away in his brain on a loop , thomas knew that if when the bulletproof gate that imprisoned him was to open again , he had to be ready for whatever came through it. if only they had given him a spoon , he would have gotten started on some sort of tunnel.
THERE IS NO MOON , OH DEAR OLD BOY. IT HAS NO MIGHT , IT BRINGS NO JOY. THERE IS NO SUN , OH LIFELESS YOUTH. WHEN SHADOWS HIDE , YOU’LL SEE NO TRUTH. but then come the VOICES. his friend’s desperate begs for a helpful hand he could not give , FEAR he could not stop , pain he could not HEAL. all screamed past the opening that had once fed him , playing on repeat , night and day , day and night. he had tried everything. from yelling back , to threatening , to even hauling himself against one and all surfaces that might give away. but it remained USELESS , his bleeding bruised body eventually growing tired of the pointless struggle , the screams slowly becoming one , no longer distinguished by levels of stress or tones of voice , no longer belonging to anyone other than himself , their agony his now , their ANGUISH his fault somehow. so much so he found reality tip toeing the line between salvation and pure insanity , his hands covering his ears in sorrowful surrender as he allowed himself to beg for mercy. soon , he had forgotten the sheets he had so meticulously straighted every day for what now felt like years , resting in a curled ball against the cold harsh floor in a sleepless transe. and if only they had given him a spoon , he could have gotten started on some sort of GRAVE.
FOR TRUTH BRINGS DEATH TO ALL OF YOU. FROM FEAR TO HOPE , GOES THROUGH AND THROUGH. FOR DEATH BRINGS TRUTH TO ALL THAT’S YOU. THERE IS NO MOON , YOU ALWAYS KNEW. and that is why he doesn’t notice when the sounds finally stop , doesn’t hear the door creaking or the rushed steps that hurry inside. what he can do , is feel foreign hands as they land upon his shoulders , the adrenaline burning in his veins causing him to jolt up in a rush , back hitting against the rough walls , dry blood still holding onto his shaking hands that had not long before attempted to CLAW their way out of confinement. ‘ finn … ? ’ he mumbles , frowning as his untrained voice fails half way through. his head is spinning , dark circles having dug a home under his eyes. perhaps he was dreaming , he thinks , HALLUCINATING. it wouldn’t have been the first time. but there is too much pain in movement , stumbling forwards hesitantly , barely standing straight , wide hues in a perpetual state of disbelief. this had to be some sort of trick. after all , why would his brother risk getting caught by the very same people he had been so tiredly trying to escape? UNLESS … ‘ what are you doing here? ’ please don’t say you work for them , please don’t say you work for them , not you too, not you !
/ ⚠ / FIND THOMAS AFTER THEY LOCKED HIM AWAY AND THREW AWAY THE KEY.
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