LIMERENCE ﹐ the maze runner.

47

For a second Clara looked at the Creators, trying to catch the breath that had escaped from her mouth. Her eyes flooded with rage, and she flung herself closer to them, pounding her fists on the cold glass wall that separated them from the Gladers.

She could hear the Gladers call her name, pleading her to stop, but she ignored them all.

"It's all your fault!" Clara shouted. "It's all your fault! I will kill you all!" She could feel the tears streaming down her face and she continued to hit on the glass, until Thomas grabbed her by the waist and held her against him, not allowing her a chance back at the Creators.

They did nothing but watch them, occasionally writing down a note.

A loud, slow beeping sound filled the room, breaking the eerie silence, like the warning of a huge truck driving in reverse, but much more powerful. It came from everywhere, booming and echoing throughout the chamber.

When the beeping sound finally came to an end, two people walked into the room. Thomas held Clara, knowing she would attack them at any chance she got, wanting revenge.

One of the Creators was a woman, wearing black pants and a button-down white shirt with a WICKED logo. Her brown hair fell just above her shoulder, which framed her thin face and dark eyes. She seemed to not even be looking at the Gladers, as if she was not even there.

The other person was a boy, standing next to her wearing an overly large sweatshirt, its hood pulled up over his head, hiding his face.

"Welcome back," the woman finally said. "Over two years, and so few dead. Amazing."

"You talk about them like they were meaningless," Clara said, clenching her jaw. "You know, all the innocent children you killed? Murdered?"

"Perhaps so, Miss Clara," the woman spoke. "But I can assure you, everything has gone according to plan. Although we expected a few more of you to give up along the way."

She glanced over at the boy standing next to her, then reached out and pulled the hood off of his head. He looked up, his eyes wet with tears.

If not for Thomas holding her, Clara would have certainly fallen to the ground, as she could feel her limbs go numb as she started hyperventilating.

Gally was staring right back at the Gladers.

"What's he doing here?" Minho shouted.

"You're safe now," the woman responded. "Please, be at ease."

"Safe - my ass!" Archie screamed.

"At ease?" Minho barked. "Who are you, telling us to be at ease? We wanna see the police, the mayor, the president - somebody!"

The woman looked back and forth from Minho to Archie. "You have no idea what you're talking about. I'd expect more maturity from someone who's passed the Maze Trials." With that, she looked straight at Clara.

"You fucking bitch," Clara snarled.

Newt was more sensible than Clara, Minho and Archie. He turned to Gally and asked, "What's going on?"

The dark-haired boy looked at him; his eyes flared for a moment, his head shaking slightly. But he didn't give Newt a response.

The woman nodded in pride. "One day you'll all be grateful for what we've done for you. I can only promise this, and trust your minds to accept it. If you don't, then the whole thing was a mistake. Dark times, Mr Newton. Dark times."

She paused. "There is, of course, one final Variable."

Clara watched as Gally's body trembled, his face ghostly white, making his wet, red eyes stand out like bloody spots on paper. His lips pressed together; the skin around them twitched, as if he were trying to speak out couldn't.