1. FIGHTER - the maze runner, newt

Chapter 20

      Well, shit.

I guess that's the best way to put this situation.

After hours of running from blood-thirsty, flesh-hungry monsters, I walked silently through the maze, an arrow crooked in my bow. The arrow and bow faced the ground just in I saw Minho or Thomas, I didn't want to shoot them.

Obviously.

I was slow, knowing I had nowhere particular to go. I would be looking for Thomas right now, but I was chased so far into the maze, that even if I could turn around and go back, I wouldn't know which way to go.

I could hear every hum of an engine, every tick of a spear, every hiss, and every growl. I saw every light that blinked and felt every whirl of air. I could hear, see, and feel everything as if they were right in front of me. The walls either echoed everything or the grievers were right around the corner.

I constantly looked over my shoulder for any signs of the grievers. I couldn't help but feel like something was watching me.

Of course, it could've been the Beetle Blades, but something in the back of my mind told me otherwise.

Above my left eyebrow was a deep gash that oozed bright red blood that glared in the moonlight. Minor scratches were scattered across my body. Every muscle continued to scream at every step I took. It even hurt to blink. My head pounded like a cranked bass and my chest felt like the speaker.

Everything in me screamed to cower from the beasts pursuing me and just give myself up, but I continued to inch my way through the maze.

Every once in a while, during the few minutes like these where a griever isn't chasing after me, I think of all the possibilities of how on earth I was able to hear Thomas' voice in my head.

I mean it could've been my own thoughts that just used his voice , I guess...right?

I was pulled from my thoughts when I felt the floor begin to rumble and shake. I reached out to the right placing a firm hand on the wall.

I looked up to the end of the corridor, watching in stark terror as the wall began retracting. Opening one corridor and closing the other.

And that "other" corridor was the only way in miles to get back to the Glade Doors or close to it.

"Shuck." I said under my breath, through clenched teeth, letting more Glader slang slip.

Once the ground became still again, I looked back up and stared at the distance ahead. But once my eyes were up, distance was the last thing on my mind.

From behind the fog and the dust of the dragged concrete stood another one of the beasts that have been trying to kill me all night.

About a kilometre away, stood a griever. In all of its slime and mechanical glory.

As if a hand slid down my throat and into my lungs; my air was taken away. In fear, I took a step back. But after realizing what I had done, I froze, hoping the griever hadn't seen me. I hoped it would turn around a leave.

But who was I kidding? I was the only thing in sight. I was just giving myself false hope. The griever's eyes have already landed on me.

It was too late to hide.

All I can do now is run.

Without even a second glance at the griever, I spun around and ran as fast as I could back down the corridor, ignoring the screams of the monster behind me.

The ground shook from under me as my pursuer ran.

Keep running.

I knew it wasn't going to take long for the Griever to catch up to my speed.