Connected: a Newtxreader

1

How did it all go so wrong?

This morning, everything was normal. You got up at the crack of dawn—the snow falling softly and peacefully around you—ate breakfast, hung out with Sonya and Harriet; just a typical morning in the Springs.
You were actually particularly happy this morning, because today was your first time running the Maze by yourself.
Big mistake.

Now you lay, leaning against the stone wall, panting, with all hope lost. You took a wrong turn at some point and now you can't find your way back to the Springs.
You feel the walls shifting, and your heart sinks as you realize that night has fallen.
The Grievers will be coming.

Only one person has survived a night in the Maze, but they disappeared a week or two after that night. That's always seemed suspicious to you; that the first person to survive the night goes missing mysteriously mere days after their victory?
But your suspicious about a lot of things, so people tend to ignore your theories and your predictions. They all think that your crazy.
Maybe you are.

With a sigh, you stand up and continue running, even though you've already given up any hope of survival. You've accepted death.

——————

The spine-chilling shrieks and moans of the Grievers fill the Maze, making the hairs on your neck stand up. The echo of the Maze makes it sound like their surrounding you, and it would be enough to make a normal person go crazy.
But your not normal. And you can't go crazy when your already crazy.

A metallic whirring and screeching joins the chorus of other demonic noises, and you get a massive headache. You crouch down, your head in your hands, massaging your temples.

Then you saw it.
A mass of blubber and metal and hair, all rolled up in a pile of slime. It looked like a child stuck random crap in a pile of play dough.
The Griever rolls it's way around the corner, pulsating and throbbing, straight towards you.

For a moment your frozen as you stare at the thing moving slowly in your direction. When the Griever is about twenty meters away you snap back to your senses and book-it in the opposite direction. The Griever notices and manages to pick up the pace.

Panic floods you when you look back and see the creature right on your heels. You know you can't keep this up forever, and with your mind racing faster then your body, you come up with a plan. A stupid, foolish plan, but a plan nonetheless.

You continue running, taking four left turns, then four right turns, then four left.... you keep doing this until the Griever is a fair bit behind you, and then you hide behind a corner, pulling your your large sword-like machete, holding it to your chest and waiting for the right moment.

The noises get louder as it approaches you, and right as the creature turned the corner, you stab your sword forward, sinking it in the blubbery flesh.

A black, oozy substance gushes out of the wound, spraying you in the oil-like goo, but the Griever doesn't seem to care. It spins around, smacking you to the ground, it's tools of death spinning and whirring as they moved towards your face. Blades, saws, and other sharp objects all pointed directly at you.

You debate on whether you should move or not. It should be obvious: move, don't die, don't move, die. But do you want to make this more painful then you need to? Quick and easy.

But you think of what Sonya said to you a year before, the words you've lived by, and that wills you to swing your machete at the Griever.
As your weapon slices the ugly face of the creature, you swing your legs over your shoulder, landing in a crouching position. Mildly impressed with yourself, you stand all the way up, your machete held at the ready.

The Griever has collected itself, and sets its gaze. But it's gaze is not set upon you, but rather upon a wall. Confused, you hesitantly step in front of the Griever, and you see it's whole face covered in the black oil. You realize then that you had unintentionally blinded the Griever when you swung at it's face.

You stare at it for a moment before turning and running through the Maze.

——————

For the remainder of the night you sit, perched in the vines on the stone wall of the Maze.
It's honestly not that bad, and you get an hour or so of sleep, though you keep one eye open.

In the morning you climb down and check your pack.
You only have a protein bar and half a bottle of water, so just to be safe, you safe half the bar and drink only a few sips of water.
As you munch on your "breakfast", you try to be hopeful, telling yourself that you'll be back to the Springs tonight, safe and sound. But you've never been much of an optimist.

Eventually you will yourself to stand up and get running, although the other half of the protein bar is calling your name.

You run for hours, but a weird feeling creeps into your stomach. You can't tell if it's hunger or something else. Something doesn't feel right. The area is looking more and more familiar, like you've been running in circles this whole time. But that can't be true....

The sky is darkening already and you begin to panic, running around frantically.
Your breath quickens and your heart speeds up. You look around senselessly as you feel your sanity slipping.
Then you trip and fall directly on your face, which snaps you back to reality.
"Ugh... dammit", you mutter to yourself. The sound of your own voice surprises you. It sounds hoarse and not like your own.

You reach up and feel your head, and when you pull your hand away it's bright red.
Groaning, you roll over and look at the sky.
You don't the energy or motivation to stand up, so you lay there, allowing your eyes to close.
At the back of your mind, you tell yourself to get up and keep running, or else the Grievers will get you.
But you silence that part of you, coming to peace with the fact that you might not wake up.

Then you black out.

A/N: Hey. First chapter done. I don't know if it's good, but I did write it at 1am last night so....
anyways, hope you liked it. Please comment your opinion cause I'd love feedback.
Thank you for reading!
- A3