𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐎𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 - TMR, Gally

039 - Horror Night

I looked at my side, meeting Thomas' eyes. Not so surprising, after all. From everyone I expected him to go into the maze the most. Minho broke down on his knees, breathing heavily.

"Good job." His chest moved fast. "You just killed yourselves." Then he let himself sit normally.

"Gally's going to shuckin' kill me." I muttered.

"He won't get the chance because we'll be dead before those Doors even open again." Minho snapped, clearly having no hope in surviving.

"What happened to him?" Mr. Question asked.
He looked at Alby, who was lying on the ground, still lifeless. Blood dripped from a wound on the side of his head.

"What does it look like?" Minho glared at Thomas, still spatting his words out angrily. "He got stung."

"For fuck's sake, why the hell are you so moody, man? Our Greenie here is trying to save your butt or whatever his plan is by going in here, and what, you expect him to know every damn thing?" The words flopped out of my mouth easily, and I was close to slamming my hand on it, but Minho didn't seem very affected.

"What happened to his head?" Thomas asked after a few seconds of silence.

"I did what I had to do."

More silence. "Okay." Thomas walked over to Alby: "Okay, help me get him up."

Minho shook his head, slowly walking away. "We gotta go. The maze is already changing."

"Hey, Minho!" Thomas stopped him. He motioned at the leader, and then looked at me, desperate. "We can't just leave him here. We gotta get him up. Come on."

Minho grabbed his shoulders after grumbling a few times, Thomas his legs, and I awkwardly helped. Then we started to carry him around the tall walls, where it was getting darker by the second.

"This ain't gonna work." Minho got more and more frustrated. "The Grievers-."

I coughed. "May I ask why you nearly died trying to drag Alby to those Doors and didn't dare to let him go, but now when you have no crowd except for us two you just want to leave him as Griever Dinner?"

"Scared of your reputation?" Thomas wondered, but he seemed to regret those words immediately.

Minho rolled his eyes and continued to drag Alby. "We're gonna die anyways."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I shuckin' do, you Shuck-face. You haven't been here before. You—." He looked at me. "—have been here, but not— whatever."

Thomas turned to me. "You've been here?" 

"Long story. Let's not talk about it." Minho turned his back to us.

"Don't want to traumatize you even more." I added. Not much emotion went through me. I guessed it still had to get through my mind what I was actually doing and that maybe I would indeed die.

"I'm already traumatized enough." He muttered as we continued to carry Alby. Soon, he came with a plan to tie him up the wall, safe from the Grievers, so that's what we worked on.

"You're in my way." Minho grunted.

"You're moody." I shot back.

He sighed shortly. "I'm glad I didn't let you be a Runner."

A middle finger. "I'm glad you're not my Keeper."

"Hey." Thomas whisper-yelled. "Can you two shut up and help?"

"Look who it says." I mumbled, but obeyed and helped him tie Alby to a rope. We wrapped it around his chest strongly, so he had no chances of falling.

Our plan was to pull him up there. Thomas was pulling the rope— that was attached to both Alby and the end of the wall— in the front, I was in the middle, Minho behind me.