• Trial One: The Maze •
||𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑|| Blake was said to have tamed the vicious robotic creature, Seven. She was granted the nickname Griever Tamer. But was the creature ever really tamed? Or was it just a distraction, a way that WICK...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
STORY 1 |Last Attempt| Pre-Maze (BLAKE'S POV)
Blake entered the cold room with a distaste on her tongue. She knew what she would find before she entered, yet her body froze and she forced a breath out when she saw them. Thomas, her old friend, laid on a table. His body was covered in wires, mask over his nose and mouth. Teresa was beside him, watching with her ice-blue eyes.
It was Teresa's calmness that caused Blake to laugh out loud. Teresa turned her eyes, they filled with a sort of confusion. Blake could already see the question written on her face before it spilled from her lips. "I am laughing because this is beyond bizarre. You are letting the man you love forget about you. Forget about himself," Blake paused, shaking her head. "You know, Teresa. Thomas, you, and I. Well, we are nothing short of lab rats. Of dogs. We have sat here for two years watching them get sent to a Maze, obeying, listening to the saints we call Wicked."
"Thomas and I know what we are doing. We are doing this for the world and our friends. Years from now it will be worth it," Teresa said, her eyes not moving from Thomas.
Blake crept closer, her eyes narrowed as she too, stared at Thomas. "I never believed that."
Teresa's eyebrows knitted into confusion. "What do you mean? Blake, you are acting like you are better than this, but you too made something to benefit Wicked."
"I hate myself for it...I never wanted my nightmares to become others. I never wanted to help them. But, yes. I would do it again. To save my brother," Blake mumbled, looking down. "We both have created horrible things. That is, however, where our similarities end."
Teresa only nodded. Blake continued, "I'm not here to bug you or nag you for your beliefs. I don't give one lick what you ding-dongs think. I am here to tell you to not go any farther. As your old friend, this is my last attempt to stop another from dying. I can't have any more blood and guilt."
"Then I suggest you leave, Blake. I do thank you for caring about us though. I wish you would have kept coming around to hang with Thomas, Chuck, and I. Chuck missed you. He used to carry that drawing you drew with him everywhere."
Blake was pinched with a sea of anger and sadness. All the memories he had forgotten all because she let Chuck go into the Maze. He kept that drawing...The one she sketched while they watched the Gladers on the cameras a year back. A drawing of himself, him smiling with his chubby cheeks. She had never visited him after she watched George get stung, too guilty to face the cameras. And too guilty to face the boy who looked up to her.
"You'll die! Everyone in that Maze will die! You don't understand what is going to happen..." Blake screamed through her teeth, voice breaking.
"What is going to happen, Blake?"
Blake's arms ran with goosebumps, she hugged herself in an attempt to calm the hurricane within her. "Once you are sent into the Maze the doors won't close. The Grievers will pick them off one by one. I tried to stop it, but they won't listen! They never listen. Please, Teresa. I can't save them, but I can save you."
