1. FIGHTER - the maze runner, newt

Chapter 51

Game Of Survival - Ruelle
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        The world moved slowly. Spinning leisurely as a war waged amongst the concrete, depending solely on a brown-haired boy and his two teen friends to end it.

If only they would hurry the shuck up.

In front of the Hole, in a whirl of flesh and slime, was Newt and I.

Our weapons prodding forwards ardently, hidden beneath the dispiriting shadows of the circling and snarling Grievers. The pair of us fended off their swiping claws and metallic limbs, the clash of our weapons ringing aggressively through the already tumultuous corridor.

But as time moved slowly, Newt and I had found a rhythm.

We moved around each other like a dance. Never crashing into the other.

Our skin grazes only slightly as Newt turns to keep up with the corralling, vigorously slicing his machete at one of the beasts' thrashing arms. He then wordlessly ducked out of the way as I aimed an arrow above his blonde head, releasing it into the throat of the other Griever.

We kept them at bay as they proceeded to circle us like prey. Standing in the eye of a storm, the centre of imminent death if one of us loses the rhythm of this grim tango.

Over the snarls and the ear-splitting squeals, I could vaguely hear Newt's breath.

The world would fade away and all I could hear, for a moment, was him. His breath. Harsh and quiet beneath the mayhem.

But there.

A small reminder that he was alive and had my back.

Releasing another arrow into one of their pulsating bodies, I grew more and more exhausted and dizzy at the endless circling. My breath came out as heaves and groans, trying to keep up with the Grievers and their automatic systems.

I felt my back graze against Newt's. His breath just as jagged as mine.

"How much more of this? I'm running out of arrows." I gasped out, loading another.

From the corner of my eye, I watched a claw come darting for my side. Still stuck in our rhythm, I crouched to the Maze floor, letting Newt whip his machete around and strike the claw away with a forceful blow.

"I have an idea," Newt choked out loudly as I jumped back to my feet.

I stayed quiet, releasing yet another arrow into the nearing creature's head as I waited for his idea.

Then from my left, I heard the familiar haunted clicking and whirl of a Griever claw.

And just as I was about to duck and allow Newt to whack it away, he then twisted towards me instead.

Newt's attentive brown eyes were wide as he gazed between me and the two Grievers. Then, as the claw whirled towards us and the other beast began to near, he grasped my bicep with his free hand, yelling, "Duck!"

We dropped to the ground like our limbs were lead, laying as flat as we could against the harsh concrete.

Suddenly, an excruciating inhuman scream thundered through the thick air.

Lifting my cheek off the floor, I peered towards my right.

Embedded in the one Griever's blubbery side was the other Griever's claw, buried beneath its thick skin.

Despite being terrified, I couldn't help the deep cringe that tugged on my cheeks at the sight of the green blood gushing from its impaled ribcage.