1. FIGHTER - the maze runner, newt

Chapter 50

Umbrella - J2, JVZEL
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I felt powerful. Surges of adrenaline shot through me like electricity. My body moved at exceeding speed and strength, facing no limitations or restraints. I felt in control and ferocious.

My actions were sturdy and brisk as I reached consistently to my quiver, curling my fingers around any arrow, locking it into the bow, and shooting it into the enemy line with crystal clear vision. A pattern formed in each shot, only changing when I switched to different targets.

And even though I stood in the eye of the storm—the centre of the battlefield—I kept myself calm and focused, letting my plan flow through no matter the distractions.

My plan.

A stupid and almost impossible plan to push for. One in which I could've died from while trying to achieve—a risky and dumb plan.

And it was working.

While the thunderous battle cries of the Gladers warned me of their approach, I was on my own with the Grievers.

The beasts charged at me, but I delayed the inevitable clash of warriors by blinding the front line of the Grievers.

And all of them fell like leaves in autumn—rearing back in pain and agony, pausing their charge in the midst, causing the Grievers behind them to stumble and fall in a heap of metal arms and legs. The sightless Grievers stayed in their spots, unsure of their direction and still trying to heal from the physical pain—that is if they even feel pain.

My breathing was ragged as I moved, my hasty actions catching up with my underlying panic. I watched as another arrow zipped from my grasp and pierced the left eye of a Griever in the second row, trying to move faster than the monsters' legs.

And like all the others in the first line, it pulled on its breaks and released a harrowing wail, the Grievers behind running straight into the newly sightless creature.

It was a complete shit show on their part. It looked like a bunch of figure skaters that didn't know how to skate.

But they soon caught on to my plan, all charging at once and skipping aggressively over their blinded counterparts.

Their new found speed sent a shot of terror through my spine, my pattern faltering in shock, blinking wildly to get control of my fear.

I could hear the Gladers getting closer, but with half the Grievers stumbling aimlessly and angrily around as well as the other angry and clear-sighted Grievers charged at me, I feared my army wouldn't make it in time.

I caught myself, harshly jolting myself back into my original position, firing arrows at the creatures closest to me.

I could feel my breath begin to speed up, my heart rate going unbelievably wildly underneath my rib cage. Sweat poured from any and all glands, feeling trapped within not only the grime but with my terror as well.

I pushed myself to move faster, to focus on firing and firing arrows only.

Though a few more Grievers fell victim to my aim, my mortal limbs couldn't move as fast as their mechanical legs and electric hearts.

They approached fast, disregarding their blinded counterparts, their unwavering sights glued to me, their weight making the floor tremble as they terrifyingly crept closer.

I stumbled back, gasping out with distorted fright.

Their dagger-like teeth gleamed my reflection, their bloodlust prominent for my flesh first.