The healer [Maze runner Newt x OC]

The group followed the girl through the shadowy tunnels, their steps echoing ominously against the cold, cracked walls. Grace walked close to Newt, her hand loosely intertwined with his, seeking comfort from his presence. She felt the tension radiating off the others, especially Minho, who muttered under his breath every so often.

Thomas broke the silence. "How do you catch them?"

The girl scoffed, throwing him a sharp look over her shoulder. "Catch them? What, do you think we're stupid?" Grace flinched at her harsh tone, glancing at the others in unease.

"We don't catch them. We just take precautions when people start to turn," the girl continued, as if that explained everything.

Grace couldn't hold back her disgust. "And I thought WICKED was inhumane," she muttered, her voice low but laced with bitterness. Newt's grip tightened around her hand in silent support, his presence anchoring her as the group moved deeper into the maze of tunnels.

Teresa's voice broke through the uneasy quiet. "Wait, those things back there were your friends? You just chained them up?"

"It's no worse than sending them to Crank Palace," the girl replied, her tone indifferent.

Grace froze, her eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar term. "What the hell is Crank Palace?" she asked, but Thomas beat her to the question.

The girl stopped and turned, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You guys aren't from around here, are you?" she said, avoiding the question altogether. Before Grace could press further, the girl pulled open a rusted door, revealing yet another dark stairwell that descended into the depths of the ruined building.

They emerged into a dimly lit room filled with mismatched furniture and a handful of people who immediately regarded the group with suspicion. One of the men stepped forward, his imposing frame radiating authority.

"So now we're taking in strays?" the man, Barkley, said, his gaze fixed on Minho.

Minho stood tall, refusing to back down. "Back off, Barkley. Jorge saw them first," the girl interrupted, climbing down a nearby set of stairs. Grace didn't miss the way Barkley's expression darkened, but she wasn't about to let Minho escalate things. She stepped forward, lightly tugging Minho's arm.

"Come on," she whispered, her steady gaze meeting his. "Not now."

For once, Minho listened, retreating up the stairs with her without further comment. Grace let out a small breath of relief as the group followed the girl deeper into the building.

"Who's Jorge?" Thomas asked as they passed more people lounging in the crumbling space.

The girl glanced back, her smirk returning. "You'll see. No one's come out of the Scorch in a long time. You've just got him curious." She paused to look at Thomas, her tone turning flirtatious. "And me, too."

Grace's unease deepened, but she stayed quiet, exchanging a worried glance with Newt.

"Anyone else starting to get a bad feeling about this place?" Newt muttered.

Grace nodded, her fingers brushing against his arm as if to confirm they were still together in this madness. Thomas, however, only shrugged. "Let's just hear him out. See what he has to say."

The group was led into a larger, more lavishly decorated room where a man sat with his back to them, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He turned off the radio playing softly beside him and finally faced them.

''Jorge, they're here.'' The girl let herself fall on the couch next to her as the man shushed her before turning his radio off, turning around to face the group of teenagers.