WICKED told them the Trial was over -no more tests, no more lies, but Frankie had been deceived enough to know that the statement alone could never be true.
Truthfully, she wanted to die. She wanted to leave this cruel world of being experimented an...
A/N: Feeling happy today so early and double update for everyone! 〰️
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REGRET.
MINHO'S THIRD Trial was regret.
He was one of the few test subjects who were held captive longer than the others. Eight days to be exact.
He remembered being instructed to lay bare chest on a weird bed under dim blue light.
Old memories of painful moments in his life were stimulated over and over again.
At first it came like it first did —a dull ache pulsating within his chest, asking why didn't he turn around to stop Nick from doing something so shockingly stupid. Why didn't he ask if his Runners were doing okay in the morning. Why didn't he check if the Griever was really dead. Why didn't he keep a good eye on Ben. Why didn't he stop Alby from sacrificing himself when it was pretty clear that it was a useless attempt.
And then the memory rewound again, then again, then again, and with each play it morphed bit by bit into something much more terrible.
Nick asked him if he should do it, and he still ran.
Frankie's food poisoning prevented her from returning in time, and she died a gruesome death in the Maze.
The Council was very reluctant to pay the dead Griever a visit, and he insisted until Alby agreed to accompany him.
Ben told him that they should get rid of Thomas before the attack, and he just brushed him off.
He held Alby's arm to stop him from stepping out as bait —he had him in his grasp, but when the older boy nodded with a smile, he shucking let go.
Day by day, the regret snowballed into something unbearable. Even during breaks, when he could feel the cold puff of air conditioner along with the pricks of numerous needles, different coloured liquids, and electric sensors on his bare skin instead of those haunting memories, the guilt overtook everything else.
His blank mind was spinning from fatigue, and yet regret was all he could sense.
"Good morning, Minho," Rat Man said with a stiff nod. He was the first face Minho saw when the drug finally wore off.
"You shuckface."
It was probably the first non-screaming sound he made in days, and his voice came out like a croak.
"This is all for a noble purpose," Rat Man explained briefly, "You just completed Phase Three of the Trials. You may return to your residence and wait for further notices."
"Wow, noble? What kind of dumb klunk are you sprouting about?" Minho said between his heavy breaths, "I was wrong. You're the shuckiest shuckfaced shuck in the whole shucking world, not Thomas."
