Chapter 58 Chapter 58 The Seeds of Hatred

Thomas took a step back, noticing that the others were doing the same.Everyone stared at the row of windows, at the row of observers, in a deadly silence that was suffocating.Thomas saw one of them writing with his head down, while the other raised his hand to put on his glasses.They were all wearing white shirts over dark coats, with a word—he couldn't make out what it was—pinned to the left breast.No expression could be discerned on any face—they were all haggard and sallow, looking terribly distressed. They continued to stare at everyone, a man shook his head, a woman nodded.Another man reached up and scratched his nose—the most human-like gesture Thomas had ever seen them do.

"Who are those people?" Chuck whispered, his raspy voice echoing in the room. "It's the Creator," Minho said, spitting on the ground, "I'm going to smash your faces!" he yelled, so loudly that Thomas put his hands over his ears. "What are we going to do?" Thomas asked. "What are they waiting for?" "They're probably trying to get the monsters back quickly to help," Newt said. "They're probably coming—" He was interrupted by a loud, slow beep, like the siren of a monster truck going the wrong way, but more forcefully.The sound came from all directions, increased in size, and echoed in the room.

"What now?" Chuck asked, not hiding his concern in his voice. For some reason, everyone looked at Thomas.He responded with a shrug—he could only think of so much, and now he was as clueless as everyone else.He, too, was terrified, and craned his neck to scan the place up and down, trying to find where the beep was coming from, but nothing changed.Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of others looking in the direction of the door.He looked over too: one of the doors swung open toward them, and his heart beat faster. The beeping stopped, and the surroundings were suddenly quiet as if this room had entered outer space.Thomas waited with bated breath, bracing for something horrible to fly out of that door.

Instead, two people walked in. One of them is a woman, a standard adult.She looked plain, wearing black trousers and a button-down white shirt with a logo on the chest - WICKED spelled out in blue capital letters.Brown shoulder-length hair, a pair of black eyes embedded in a thin face.She walked up to the big guys without smiling or frowning - she didn't seem to notice or care about them standing there. I know her.Thomas thought.But all that remained was a hazy cloud of memory—he couldn't recall her name or her connection to the Maze, only that she looked familiar.It wasn't just her appearance that was familiar, but the way she walked, her manner - rigid and without a hint of joy.She stopped a few steps away from everyone, and slowly looked at everyone from left to right.

The other person standing beside her was a boy in a baggy sweatshirt with a hood that went over his head and hid his face. "Welcome back," the woman finally said. "It's amazing how few people died after two years." Thomas opened his mouth—he felt his face turn red. "What did you say?" Newt asked. Her eyes scanned the crowd again before looking at Newt. "Everything is going according to plan, Mr. Newt, although we would have expected more of you to give up along the way." She glanced at the person beside her, and reached out to pull off the boy's hat.He looked up at everyone, his eyes wet with tears.Everyone in the room was taken aback, and Thomas' legs went limp.

It's Gary. Just like in the cartoon, Thomas blinked and rubbed his eyes, his heart filled with shock and anger. It was Gary. "What is he doing here?" Minho yelled. "You are safe now," the woman replied, as if she hadn't heard him at all. "Don't worry." "Relax?" Minho snarled, "Who are you? Reassure us? We're going to see the police, the mayor, the president—someone in charge!" Thomas worried that Minho might—but at the same time, he was kind of hopeful He punched her hard in the face. She squinted at Minho. "Son, you don't know what you're talking about. I thought someone who passed the maze would be mature." Thomas was taken aback by her condescending tone.

Minho tried to refute, but Newt elbowed him in the stomach. "Gary," Newt said, "what's going on?" The black-haired boy looked at him, his eyes flickered, his head shook slightly, but he didn't answer.Something was removed from him.Worse than ever, Thomas thought. The woman seemed proud of him, she nodded. "One day you'll appreciate what we've done for you. That's all I can promise. Trust us, take it. If you don't take it, the whole thing is a mistake. Dark times, Mr. Newt, dark times." She paused. "Of course, there is an ultimate experimental variable." She backed away.

Thomas focused on Gary, the boy trembling, his wet, red eyes standing out like a deadly smear on a white paper, his pale, almost colorless complexion.His upper and lower lips were tightly pressed together, and the skin around his lips twitched, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. "Gary?" Thomas asked, trying to suppress his hatred for him. Suddenly, words came out of Gary's mouth. "They... can control me... I don't—" His eyes bulged, and he put a hand on his throat as if he couldn't breathe, "I...have to...no..." Every time Each word is like a hoarse cough.He didn't move after that, his expression became calm and his body relaxed.

It's exactly the same as Alby lying in bed after going through a period of physical pain in the glade, the same thing happened to him, what is— But before Thomas had time to figure it out, Gary walked up behind him and pulled a long, shiny object from his back pocket.The light in the room flickered along the silvery surface of the thing—a wicked dagger clutched tightly in his hand.He jumped back and hurled the dagger at Thomas with unexpected speed.Just as he was throwing the dagger, Thomas heard a scream from his right, and he felt movement, coming towards him. The blade spun, and Thomas could clearly see each twirl, as if the whole world had slowed down, as if the sole purpose of the twirling was to make him feel the dread of the dagger slowly flying towards him.The dagger approached him and kept turning.A strange cry escaped from his throat, urging himself to dodge, but he couldn't move.

At this moment, Chuck actually appeared, and he rushed forward.Thomas felt as if his feet had been frozen into blocks of ice, and he could only watch helplessly as the terrifying scene happened in front of him, extremely helpless. With a low, terrifying sound, the dagger plunged into Chuck's chest, the blade sinking so deep that only the handle remained outside.The boy screamed and fell to the ground, convulsing.Blood, dark red blood poured out from the wound.Death came so suddenly, his feet kicked the ground and his legs spasmed.Thomas' world collapsed in an instant, and his heart was crushed to pieces.

He fell to the ground and pulled Chuck's trembling body into his arms. "Chuck!" he yelled, his throat as though acid had eaten away, "Chuck!" The boy's body shook uncontrollably, and blood flowed everywhere, staining Thomas' hands red.Chuck's eyeballs rolled over their sockets, he was pale, and his nose and mouth began to bleed. "Chuck..." Thomas said, his voice quiet this time.There is still something they can do.They can get him back.them-- The boy stopped twitching, stopped moving, and his eyes returned to their normal positions, staring at Thomas, revealing his desire for life. "Thomas." Just one word, barely audible. "Hold on, Chuck," Thomas said, "don't die... hang on, come help!" No one came, and deep down, Thomas knew why.Nothing will work now, it's all over.It was dark before Thomas' eyes, and the whole room was tilted and shaken.don't want.It shouldn't be Chuck, he thought, it couldn't be Chuck, anyone but Chuck could die. "Thomas," Chuck said breathlessly, "find... my mother." He coughed violently, coughing up blood from his lungs, "tell her..." Before he finished speaking, he closed his eyes, his body stiffened, and he took his last breath. Thomas stared at him, at the lifeless body of his best friend. Thomas's psychology changed drastically, and a seed of anger was planted in the deepest part of his heart.A seed of hatred, a desire for vengeance, something dark and terrible grew within him.Then the seed exploded, rushing from his lungs to his neck to his arms and legs, taking over his entire heart. He let go of Chuck and stood up, looking tremblingly at the intruder in front of him. Thomas was out of control, he was completely out of control. He lunged forward, directly into Gary, hands clawing at him.He grabbed the boy by the throat and collapsed on top of him.He straddled Gary, grabbing his legs to keep him from running away, and punched him hard with his fists. His left hand held Gary down, pinning his neck to the ground, and his right fist rained down on Gary's face, punch after punch—as if trying to vent all his anger. . Afterwards he was pushed away by Minho and Newtra, his arm still kept waving, even though it only hit the air.They dragged him to the ground, and he writhed and wrestled with them, yelling at them to let him go.Finally he lay still on the ground, his eyes fixed on Gary.Thomas felt the hatred constantly radiating from himself, and the two seemed to be drawn together by a flame. And then, just like that, everything disappeared except for the thought of Chuck. He broke free from the grip of Minho and Newt, and limped towards his dead friend.He picked up Chuck and pulled him into his arms. "No!" Thomas yelled, filled with grief, "No!" Teresa walked over and put her hand on his shoulder.He shook off her hand. "I promised him!" he screamed, and then realized that something was wrong with his voice, he said hysterically, "I promised to save him and bring him home! I promised him!" Teresa didn't answer, just nodded and looked down at the ground. Thomas hugged Chuck, holding him tightly to his chest, holding him with all his strength, as if this would bring him back to life, and also as if thanking him for saving his life, thanking him for what he did when others spurned him. lost his friend. Thomas was crying as loudly as if he had never cried before.His loud, trembling cries echoed through the room, like screams of torture.