Stealers (Newt x Reader)

Chapter 9: Fight and Flight

It was charging at me. But I couldn't move. I never wanted to but I finally knew what it meant to be paralysed with fear, every inch of muscle was frozen, perhaps contemplating whether it was even worth trying to get away. No one had survived a griever. As it neared, I made the decision, I turned and pushed my body forward, forcing it to sprint in the opposite direction. I heard another shriek come from behind me.

"Minho!" I shouted, hoping that maybe he would hear it. He was fairly far away though and I didn't get my hopes up. Right now all I could focus on was getting away and staying alive. The thought of dying had never scared me before but staring straight into the face of it changed my mind completely. I couldn't die now. I sprinted down the corridor, focusing on my breathing, trying to block out the crack of breaking rock as the griever's metal legs tore into it. It was relentless and I could hear it gaining speed, getting closer. Sweat dripped down my forehead and made my hands slick, I didn't even have time to focus on wiping it off. I looked behind me and immediately regretted it, the monster's claws only a few metres away from my back. I turned my head back around, the wall of the corridor turning to make a right. I tried to stop myself in time but skidded, slamming into the wall, the left side of my body scratching against the rock and ivy as I turned. I had to ignore the pain. Just as I began running again I heard the griever slam into the wall, following me exactly, getting closer. How was I supposed to escape something so huge and so powerful? I didn't even have any weapons. My mind raced with doubt that I could actually manage to do this but I had to try. For my friends. For myself. For Newt. All I could hope was that the creators were getting a good show out of this, I mentally cursed them.

I pushed the thoughts out of my head and pushed myself harder, feeling my whole body working itself to my limit. From nowhere I felt one of the griever's legs swipe me, throwing me forward onto the ground, the wind knocking out of me as I landed. Without looking I knew there was blood seeping from skin that was smooth moments ago, grazes and scratches painting my body. But I had to carry on. I groaned and rolled over onto my back, meeting the disgusting face of the griever as it stood over me. I screamed, fear taking over any other feeling that was there moments ago. The creature screamed back, almost mocking me, as if rubbing it in my face that it had won. But it hadn't won just yet, I was still alive. 

I looked up and saw a long, metal arm with a needle on the end diving towards me. I turned onto my front, hearing it crash into the floor instead of me. It was such a near miss that I couldn't afford to happen again. I turned back onto my front, batting a blade away from me, then a needle again. Fear mixed with adrenaline as I battled for my life, ignoring the aches and pains that were erupting across my body. I tried to scurry backwards, holding my arm up as another blade came flying towards me, ripping a deep cut along my forearm. I cried out in pain, holding it closer to my body, continuing to move backwards. But they kept coming and I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep fighting. I felt myself gasping for air, moving left and right, trying my best to dodge everything that came at me. I felt something else slice down the side of my body, earning another pain-filled scream. I felt my body begin to give up but with a flash of adrenaline, I kicked a needle away and dived through two of the legs. My blood was on fire as I let my limbs move by themselves, pure pain and terror pulsing through my veins. I raced forward, heading towards another turn. I heard the creature let out an angry shriek and charge after me, only this time I didn't look back, I just kept running. Around another corner, then another. I was about to turn the third corner - the griever only a few metres behind me again, ready for round two - when I slammed into something. I gasped expecting another griever, accepting that I couldn't fight off two of them but it wasn't a griever. It was Minho. 

I threw my arms around him, so glad he was here. He pulled me against him, holding me tightly. It was only now that I realised how much he meant to me and how grateful I was that he was here.

"I heard you," he whispered," I was so worried. You should never have ran off on your own."

"I know, I'm sorry. I never expected to see one of them," I pulled away from the hug, remembering that now wasn't exactly the time to be sharing a sentimental moment. "We don't have time to hug, we need to go." I looked back at the griever, anger buzzing around it's whole being. I could tell it didn't like defeat. Minho looked down at my cuts and bruises, another look of worry washing over his face. The griever was so close now, snapping us out of stupidity. We should have ran as soon as we saw each other. 

"Come on!" Minho shouted as he grabbed my arm. We sprinted forward, our feet landing hard against the floor, making small rocks and dust fly up around our feet. At this point I didn't know where we were going but I trusted Minho to lead the way. I could still hear the griever close behind us but knowing I had someone else with me calmed me slightly. Not much though, the fear was still scratching at my insides, clawing and climbing. The only thing that kept me going was the adrenaline and the need to see another day. A low, loud grumble made me and Minho slow a little, putting my hands on the wall for a breath. We glanced at each other, confused. Then it clicked. Minho looked down at his watch, his face growing pale. We shared a look of dread as I looked up at the darkening sky.

The doors were closing.

Without saying anything, we hurried forward, knowing both our lives were on the line if we didn't get back to the glade in the next minute or so. The griever was still hot on our tail, but we pushed ourselves forward, running faster than I though was even possible for me. My muscles screamed at me to stop, my bones were grinding and pushing me further, my entire being ached with exhaustion. We turned a corner and saw it. The doors, The glade just beyond them. Most of the boys were stood at the entrance of the doors, shouting and screaming, encouraging us to continue running forward. Newt was at the front, not saying anything but staring straight at me, playing with his hands. I could see the anxiety taking over him as he glanced between the continuously closing door and then back at me and Minho. I made eye contact with him. I needed him to know what I was thinking if I didn't make it in time. I heard the griever skid along the floor as it came round the corner, the other gladers gasping, stepping back as fear overtook them. They thought just seeing one was scary, imagine fighting one.

All the sounds mashed together: the griever's whirring, the sound of metal against rock, the rumbling of the doors closing, the shouts, the screams, mine and Minho's heavy breathing, our feet pounding on the floor. I felt my brain become heavy, dizziness and nausea grabbing my mind. My body began to slow, I felt something weigh me down and sick churn in my stomach. I fell onto my knees, looked down at myself. I was covered in dirt and blood, some of it dry and some fresh. My clothes were torn and I could see plenty of cuts and bruises that were already forming. The sounds seemed to have become muffled, as if I had fallen underwater, slowly drowning, giving in to the maze. I looked back and the griever had stopped, lapping up the sight before it. Just as I was about to fall onto my side, I looked up, Minho was grabbing my arm, screaming at me to get up.

"Get up! Get up now! We're so close!" I knew he wouldn't leave me so all I could do was heave myself up off my knees, for him more than myself. He put his arm round me but took it off when he realised it only slowed us down. Time wasn't on our side, the doors were only about a metre and half away from closing. We raced forward, Minho reaching the doors first, managing to slip through. I reached them with only about half a metre until they were completely closed, locking the glade away from the horrors the maze contained. I felt the rock start to push up against me as I shimmied through, turning so that the wall was behind and in front of me. I got to the other side and squeezed out, hearing a loud boom as the doors shut for the night. I closed my eyes. Newt was on me in a second. I collapsed into his arms and sobbed.