The Girl Called Owen - Newt x Owen (OC)

The Gladers gathered in the clearing as dusk fell, the air heavy with tension. Ben was tied to the pole in the center, his infected snarls echoing across the Glade. His veins, blackened and unnatural, pulsed with the venom of the Griever's sting.

Owen stood on the edge of the crowd, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She tried to focus on anything other than Ben's frenzied movements—the distant hum of the Maze walls, the warmth of Winston's presence beside her—but it wasn't enough.

Alby stepped forward, his voice steady but somber. "We all know what happens now. Ben's infection has taken over. He's dangerous to the Glade, to all of us."

Ben roared, thrashing against the ropes as if trying to break free. His wild, bloodshot eyes scanned the crowd, landing briefly on Owen. She flinched, turning her head away.

"This isn't his fault," Newt muttered under his breath, standing next to Thomas and Minho. "Bloody hell, this is the part I hate most."

Alby gave the signal, and the four strongest Gladers began to untie Ben from the pole. His screams grew louder as they dragged him toward the Maze entrance, his pleas barely human. "Don't do this! Please!"

Owen squeezed her eyes shut, her body trembling. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder—Winston's. She turned into him, burying her face in his chest as tears pricked her eyes. His arms wrapped around her protectively, his grip firm and reassuring.

"It's okay," Winston whispered, his voice hoarse. "You don't have to watch."

Ben's desperate cries cut through the night as the Maze doors began to creak open. The eerie sound made Owen shiver, and she clung tighter to Winston.

The Gladers watched in silence as Ben was forced into the Maze, his screams fading into the darkness. The doors slammed shut behind him with an echoing finality.

Owen lifted her head slightly, her face still pressed against Winston's chest. "Why does it have to be like this?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

Winston exhaled deeply, running a hand over her hair. "It's the way things are here. I wish it wasn't, but we have to survive."

Newt approached them, his face pale and grim. He crouched beside Owen, his hazel eyes full of concern. "You alright?"

Owen nodded shakily, her hands still gripping Winston's shirt. "It's just... so cruel."

Newt glanced at the closed Maze doors, his jaw tight. "It is. But sometimes, we don't get a choice."

Alby's voice broke through the murmurs of the crowd. "Alright, back to your huts. Get some rest. Tomorrow's another day."

As the Gladers dispersed, Owen stayed close to Winston and Newt, her heart heavy. She knew she'd never forget the sound of those doors slamming shut or the look in Ben's eyes.

The night carried on, but the weight of what had happened lingered in the air.