Sacrifice
"Congratulations," Minho said, his tone a blend of sarcasm and concern. "You two just killed yourselves."
Thomas winced, feeling the sting of blood on his scraped knees. He glanced up at Minho, determination etched across his face. "Or I might save you," Thomas retorted, a spark of defiance in his eyes. This wasn't the time for pleasantries; they were all in this together.
Newt's gaze flickered between Thomas, Minho, and Alby, who lay unconscious on the ground. "What are we gonna do about him?" he asked, a note of urgency creeping into his voice.
Without hesitation, Thomas moved toward Alby, grabbing his arms. "Newt, help me," he called out, urgency pushing him forward. Newt rushed to his side, grasping Alby's legs as they lifted their fallen comrade.
Thomas turned to Minho, who seemed hesitant, inching away from the unfolding scene. "Run while you can," he urged, his voice firm.
Minho didn’t waste a second, and immediately began sprinting off into the Maze. Thomas sent him one regretful look before turning back to the matter at hand.
”What’s the plan, Tommy?” Newt asked, his muscles straining as he carried Alby.
Thomas looked up at the vines.
”You’re joking,” Newt said flatly.
”It’s worth a shot.”
The next five minutes was spent scaling the wall and dragging Alby up. Soon enough, both Newt and Thomas were a quarter of the way up the wall, holding Alby between them. Thomas noticed Newt’s leg straining.
“Now tie his legs,” Thomas said, and they both tied Alby’s legs and arms to the vines. Once that was finished, Newt looked at Thomas nervously.
“Where are we gonna hide, Tommy?”
*
In the dimly lit corridors of the maze, Thomas and Newt found themselves huddled together, concealed behind the thick, overgrown vines that snaked across the maze walls. The eerie glow of the maze's lights cast an otherworldly hue on the surroundings, painting the scene in shades of ominous shadows and faint glimmers.
Breathless and hearts pounding, they pressed close against the cool stone wall, their fingers entwined in a desperate grip. The air was thick with tension, and a foreboding silence settled in the maze, broken only by the faint rustling of the vines as a chilling breeze swept through. Despite the fear reverberating throughout the maze, Thomas’ cheeks felt hot as he grasped Newt’s hand.
The distant echoes of the Grievers' haunting growls reverberated through the corridors, sending a shiver down their spines. Fear gripped them both, a tangible presence that hung heavy in the suffocating atmosphere.
Thomas glanced at Newt, his eyes wide with a mixture of apprehension and determination. The glow from the maze's lights cast eerie shadows across his face, highlighting the grit and resolve etched into his features. Without a word, their hands found each other in the darkness, fingers intertwining in a silent vow of solidarity.
Newt's breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to steady his nerves. The maze's vines seemed to coil around them, a veil of both protection and entrapment, as if the very walls held secrets and unseen dangers lurking within.
A distant, guttural growl echoed through the corridors, sending a chill down their spines. In the suffocating silence, their grip tightened as they braced themselves for what was to come.
Time stretched in that moment, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Their hearts beat in unison, a rhythm of shared fear and unspoken determination to survive. The oppressive weight of the maze bore down on them, its enigmatic design a puzzle they had yet to decipher. Thomas wondered if Minho had managed to escape the Grievers this time.
As the eerie stillness enveloped them, Thomas and Newt found solace in their intertwined hands, drawing strength from each other amidst the looming darkness. Their connection, a lifeline in the face of impending danger, was a silent testament to their unyielding resolve to defy the horrors lurking within the maze.
*
The air turned thick and suffocating as a low, guttural growl echoed through the maze, sending shivers down their spines. Thomas and Newt exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them as dread settled in their hearts. The distant scuttling sounds grew louder, a cacophony of scraping against the stone walls that reverberated through the corridor.
Suddenly, a sinister presence loomed in the shadows—an amalgamation of metal and sinew, a Griever emerged, its grotesque form illuminated by the dim glow of the maze's eerie lights. Its sleek, metallic legs moved with an unnatural grace, propelling its spider-like body forward, while vile appendages writhed around its bulbous, shifting torso.
"Thomas. Grievers," Newt muttered, his voice tense with urgency as beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. Fear danced in his eyes, but he fought to keep it in check.
The Griever let out a ghastly screech, its movements quickening, closing the distance between them with alarming speed. Its mechanical parts clicked and whirred in a symphony of terror as it advanced, the stench of decay trailing in its wake.
Thomas's heart raced, his breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to flee. "Run, Newt!" he shouted, adrenaline surging through his veins.
Without a moment's hesitation, they bolted down the corridor, their footfalls echoing off the walls. The maze's twists and turns blurred as they sprinted, the labyrinthine paths a maze within a maze. Panic threatened to consume them as the unnerving screeches of multiple Grievers filled the air, a chorus of impending doom.
The dim lights flickered above, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls, further distorting their already frenzied surroundings. Each turn they took felt like a gamble, a desperate bid for survival in a maze designed to confound and entrap.
The Grievers pursued relentlessly, their clicking legs thundering behind, the reverberations intensifying with each passing moment. Thomas and Newt pushed themselves harder, their muscles burning with exertion, their lungs aching for air.
Desperation fueled their escape, the maze's narrow corridors threatening to swallow them whole. They raced against time, their only goal to outrun the relentless horror snapping at their heels.
With a surge of determination, Thomas and Newt pushed forward. Until behind him, Thomas heard a clack as Newt fell to the floor. The Griever was still on their tails.