The Deadliest Generation: The Maze Of Monsters

Ben and The Banishing

Thomas was fed up. 

Nobody here was helping him, make him understand why he was here, what was going on, what the Grievers did to the boys in the Glade, and why Gally, that boy, seemed to recognize him.

He knew that he definitely knew he needed to be alone, and as far away from anyone he could possibly get. 

He walked into the woods in one corner of the Glade.

The one thing he knew was that he needed to be alone, and the Glade with it's business, loud workers, constant stream of gossip and unasked for stares that were thrown in his direction. Until the imprint of those had long faded away, he wanted to be alone.

As he entered the woods a sort of hush fell over Thomas's surroundings. He walked through the leafy undergrowth, making a sort of crunching sound. He continued to walk and walk and walk. His head felt closed off from reality, and he felt like it needed to be free. 

It was only when Thomas felt the front of his shoe strike something hard, and pain flowed through his foot.

Stone. He'd hit stone.

He uttered a curse and grabbed the foot that he'd struck against the stone, hopping around and trying desperately not to fall over. He hopped backward nearly falling over when he hit his good foot on a tree root, but caught himself on the bark, the gingerly put his foot down, wincing slightly but being able to walk decently on it.

It had a name inscribed on it.

George.

Thomas realized and had to try quite hard to stop freaking out.

It was a graveyard. 

Thomas then noticed a box with a glass lid, that had a rock stuck near it, with an inscribed message on it.

He walked toward it, and when seeing half a human body in the box, recoiled in horror and almost retched. 

The half of the body had clean features that were recognizable and decipherable as it being a young, perhaps fourteen year old boy. An ex-Glader. It was probably the boy that Chuck had told him, and this theory was backed up by the stone's inscription which read, 'let this half-shank be a warning to all; never venture down the Box hole.'

Thomas snorted slightly at that, but then remembered that this kid had been young. So, so young, and felt so awful.

Thomas swallowed. He then heard a crunching sound on the leaves behind him, and swivelled around. 

Standing before him was another Glader. 

The boy had short light brown hair, pale skin, his veins seemed to be running a dark colour, his eyes popping, foam frothing out of his mouth. His skin was whiter-than-white almost glowing sickeningly underneath the throbbing veins. He was also clutching a long, sharp, dirty knife in one hand.

Thomas was terrified. He noticed the expression on the boy's face, and that was what scared him the most.

He was staring a Thomas with strong hatred. But what Thomas knew was that this was the sick boy that Alby, Newt and the medjacks were taking care of. 

This was Ben.

Ben lunged at Thomas, knife in hand. Thomas's instincts kicked in, ignoring the strain of pain in his foot from when he smacked it onto a headstone. He turned around again, running in a direction clear of graves, sidestepping trees. 

But even though he was faster than Ben, he had a pain in his foot, he was dehydrated, hadn't ate and the headstart Ben had had was clearly helping him, as Ben jumped onto Thomas's back, throwing him onto the ground and crawling on top of him, slashing at him with the knife he was holding.