Whirlwind | The Maze Runner- Newt

A Fully-Fledged Runner At Your Service

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ADELAIDE

I sit up, surrounded by darkness. It is a lost and cold color. I am lost, I am drowning in it, I want to cry out.

I blink, it tells me that my eyes are open.Were it not for the flutter my eyelashes, I would have thought that my eyes were shut, tightly.

Then there was light. It was wrong light. It was blood red. I try to lift my light, to shield my eyes but I can't. They are pinned down to something and it hurts to move them.I'm covered by something wet and sticky. Maybe it's sweat, maybe blood. I can't tell.

The light fares off and I am left in darkness. A low humming sound echoes everywhere. The light fares on again and I realize that I'm wearing a mask. A mouth guard. A barrier.

Metal teeth drill onto my lips, keeping them clamped shut with my own blood. Preventing my screams to leave me.

Teeth are sunk into my arms and legs. Searing pain consumes me. I feel blood begin to swallow me, twisting and withering in my veins. I can't even scream.

Suddenly the mask loosens and drills out from my lips before plummeting into my thighs, smashing the bonuses into splinters. I scream out. It is unearthly and ear splitting wait of desperation and pain as blood keeps on frothing onto the ground.

I begin to pull my hands harshly shaking through the little knives that kiss my hands. I'm bathing in blood. I wail again, tears refusing to leave my eyes. I wither around, scream and cry and beg for help. Threaten to kill if not let go.

And then it all stops.

No blood. No wound. No masks. I'm clean. But the pain remains.

"Test twenty-seven completed. Result, negative." A monotone voice says.

My hands and legs are free. Suddenly, a pair of surgical gloves looms in utter white light. I feel the sting of cool metal dig into my skin and liquid flowing through the blood. The surgical gloves disappears.

The light turns off.

"Test twenty-eight. Subject One. Freight Response. Commence now."

I wake up next morning to someone pushing my shoulders. 

Minho.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I whisper groggily. "How the fuck did you get in my room?"

He smirks proudly. "I finally learnt how to pick locks."