Feral → newt, tmr

Chapter 14: Chris

But just as her eyes flutter shut, faint whispers snake through the quiet.

“Hey,” someone hisses. “Down here.”

The voice pulls her from the edge of sleep, and she unwraps herself from Newt’s arms, shifting quietly to the edge of the bunk. Her eyes adjust to the darkness, and below her, a shadow crouches. It’s Thomas.

“Tommy?” she whispers, keeping her voice low.

His eyes flick to hers, a flash of surprise crossing his face before he gestures her down. Silently, Katherine climbs down the ladder, landing softly beside her brother, who’s staring at something under his bunk.

There’s a metal cover at his feet, partially removed to reveal a small opening—a vent.

“What’re you doing?” she murmurs, peering into the dark space.

Thomas doesn’t answer, only motions for her to follow as he crawls into the air vent. Without hesitation, Katherine follows, her heart pounding as the narrow space closes in around them. She’s barely made it a few feet in when she feels someone grab her from behind, a hand clamping over her mouth.

“Get off me!” she muffles, wriggling against the hold, panic surging as she tries to break free.

“Shh… I’m harmless,” an unfamiliar voice whispers in her ear, releasing her as she turns to find one of the twins from the other Maze group. His face splits into a grin as he holds up a finger to his lips. “Knew you’d follow. Your brother’s with my brother.”

“What?” she whispers, her pulse still racing.

“My brother has this assumption that something's going on behind our back like your brother. And here we are.” He gestures for her to keep quiet, nodding ahead. “I’m Chris, by the way.”

“Katherine,” she murmurs, narrowing her eyes but following as Chris leads her through the winding vents. After a few turns, they crawl into a small open space where two figures crouch, peering through a slotted vent cover.

“Kat,” Thomas whispers, relief softening his face as he reaches out to her.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice low but laced with worry.

“Come here,” the other boy—Chris’s twin—whispers, gesturing her over. “watch.”

Carefully, Katherine edges forward, peering through the grate. Her stomach churns at the sight below: guards and medical staff lead by Dr. Crawford wheeling in stretchers, each covered by a stark white sheet.

“What the hell…” she whispers, her voice a breath of horror.

“They bring in a new batch every night,” Chris’s brother murmurs, his tone dark. “Like clockwork. Always bodies. Never leave this place.”

“You know what they do with them?” Thomas whispers, his voice tight with a mixture of dread and anger.

Chris shakes his head. “This is as far as we’ve ever gotten. The vents don’t go past into that section…” He trails off, his face hardening as he glances at his twin. “But once they go through that door, they don't come back out. I don't think anybody ever really leaves this place.”