AN-I'm sorry I wasn't able to finish my other story, but it generally follows the storyline of the books. Newt lives, of course, because we love him. This one WILL be finished, and I hope you enjoy. Reviews are welcome :)

"It's a girl."

My eyes flickered open. Almost instantly, I was blinded by a bright light. I shielded my eyes as they adjusted and I sat up, blinking. I was in a structure that looked like a big metal box. It was filled with crates of supplies, some of them almost larger than I was. Then I thought back to why I had woken up and realized there was someone standing in front of me.

I shuffled back until I was against the wall (grate might've been a better term) and stood up, leaning back on it for support. One of the crates squealed. My eyes darted towards it, then the voice spoke again.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you." I focused on the figure. The voice (English, I realized) belonged to a tall, blonde boy who was holding his hands up in surrender. He looked to be about sixteen or seventeen and he was watching me carefully, as though he thought I was about to run. Or attack him. Or both.

"Yeah sweetheart, you come up here and we'll treat you real nice." Another voice called out. Whispers and laughter fell down from above me. Startled (and offended, but that was another problem), I looked up to see what must've been at least forty people gathered around the top of the box. None of them girls. I stared at them, looking for the one that had made the comment. I also felt like I was about to have a hardcore internal panic attack but they didn't need to know that. I could feel my breathing growing faster, frantic.

"Alright, like I said. I'm not here to hurt you, okay?" The blonde one repeated. I nodded, scared.

"No, but there are other things I wouldn't mind doing." A third voice rang out. The whispers grew louder. Then another voice.

"Everybody shut your damn holes! I hear that klunk again the slinthead that said it'll be going straight to the Slammer!" Another boy dropped down into the box. Then a third after him. Slinthead? Slammer? The second boy spoke up, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

"Newt's right, Greenie." He said. Newt? The angry one or the British one? "We don't want to hurt you. We're gonna help you out of here and then we can explain some stuff, okay?"

The third boy just stared at me intensely. This would've been alarming by itself, but the hardened glare that was conveyed though his dark features made his expression all the more intimidating. I shrank back. Newt (it fit the blonde one better) noticed my reaction, then glanced back and winced.

"Alby, you're scaring her. Relax." He hissed. Newt then. The other boy, presumably Alby, frowned (which wasn't much different from his current expression) but thankfully toned down the glare. I bit my lip.

"First things first." The second one held out his hand. "My name's Nick. Welcome to day one, Greenie."

I stared at him. Realizing I wasn't going to be shaking his hand, he dropped it and crossed his arms.

"Come on." Using the crates as steps, Nick and Alby climbed out of the box. Nervously, I followed suit with Newt right behind me. I stood in the grass, feeling everyone else stare, every boy watching me closely.

"Get back to work, shanks!" Nick yelled. I winced. I had been standing right next to him. "Nothing to see here!"

"Greenie's plenty to see!" Someone called out. I recognized the voice, he had spoken before.

"Alex! Shut your hole or I'll cut your next break in half!" Nick shouted. "Same goes for the rest of you shanks!"

Fortunately, most of them drifted away. A few remained but I watched as the others retreated to different sections of the area, each one seeming to have its own purpose. Towering walls of concrete encased the field, with a huge gap in each side of the square of stone closing off the area. An exit. But if they were still here, whatever was beyond the walls must be bad. Really bad. Only one way to find out. I glanced at them, then sprinted for the opening.

"Runners!" I heard Nick yell. Three of the boys who had stayed chased after me, Newt included. The first one to catch up lunged at me and knocked me down. I shrieked as he slammed me to the ground, pinning me to the grass. I struggled, but he pulled me up by my arm and dragged me towards Newt and the other boy a few yards back.

"Sorry." The boy muttered. "Better dirt than death, princess."

I scowled at him. Nick and Alby joined the other two and walked over to us.

"Unless you have a death wish, Greenie, you don't wanna be going out there. Ever!" Nick commanded. I glared at the other boy; he was still gripping my arm.

Well, why the fuck not?

At least, that's what I'd tried to say. But by the start of the third word I realized there weren't any actual words being said. I stopped moving my mouth, confused. I bit my lip. Please don't tell me I can't talk. I know how to talk, this is ridiculous. The five of them looked as confused as I felt, and I felt like I was about to start hyperventilating.

"Can you...can you talk?" Nick frowned. "Minho, let go." The boy who had tackled me released my arm. I stepped away from him, upset.

I...I don't...

My lips moved wordlessly. How the hell was I supposed to survive around this many teenage boys without any communication? It was impossible.

"Great. That's just shucking great." Nick sighed. "Here, let's...we should..." He struggled.

"Alright, until we figure out what's going on...you're in the Slammer." Nick decided. "Newt, Minho. Make sure she gets there. Ben...just follow us."

Both Newt and the Asian boy who had tackled me nodded at Nick. So that was Minho. Making the other boy, another tall blonde, Ben.

"I'm putting you two in charge of the Greenie. Make sure nothing happens to her." Nick left with Ben and Alby and walked over to a structure towards the far end of the field. Minho grinned at me.

"Sorry about earlier." He apologized. "But you really shouldn't go in there."

Why? I mouthed.

"Why?" Newt asked, clarifying. I nodded. "It's a death sentence, Greenie. I'll show you around later, but for now...trust me, you're better off in here."

"Come on. Off to the Slammer."

I still didn't know what half of these words meant, but if Slammer meant what I thought it did this wasn't going to be pleasant.