The Griever Girl

Alby's Warning

(The Day You Convulsed)
Thomas P.O.V-
I scrunched up against the wall as I tried to get away from the beyond disturbing scenario at hand.

Both Alby and Minho were trying to hold her down, but it seemed futile. The girl just kept thrashing around. Seeming like it would never end.

Her eyes were shut and clear tears ran down her cheeks. Her limbs flailed everywhere, as if she was possessed. An all out spasm for sure. And the foam forming in her mouth was making it more tense. She kept repeating the words. Those vile words.

Newt stood alongside me before he called the med-jacks. They came in quickly after hearing their cue, only to find the newbie arching her back once more and plopping down onto the bed with a wave of sweat trailing down her forehead.
The whole room was silent.

Alby and Minho finally let go of her limbs, and stood by us as we saw the med-jacks observe her current state.
"Hey guys", Clint begins, "I think it's best if you stepped out of the room for now."
We all agreed in silence, but we lingered around for a few more moments.

Whatever she did right now, was no natural thing. The Creators are behind this. I know it. But why would they do this? Why her? Why now?

I turned around as I walked with Newt , Minho, and Alby. We exchanged some horrendous looks and just went our separate ways to our un-welcomed sleep.

::Alby's P.O.V::
I sigh as I cling onto my covers of the makeshift bed. Why is this happening? Why is this now happening? And I hate to come back to earlier, when Gally was ranting on her, but, why did the creators suddenly bring a girl up here? Why would they bring another newbie when they know we are short on supplies. Shuck it.
I need to rest. A whole new day full of exhaust will capture me tomorrow when I will have to question the greenie and show her around.

I moved towards my left and finally close my eyes and cross over to a nights sleep.

##Dream##
My vision is a bit blurred, but I could still see my surroundings.
I'm in the maze.
Except it looks far deadlier than I recently imagined. The walls are not steel, but a reflective wall. It was covered with grime and dried up blood. New scratches appeared on them as I walked by it.

As I continued to walk around, seeing if I can find something intriguing besides those marks, I faced the mirror-wall. It was definitely odd that these walls are reflective, and having not one but many scratches. Scratches like steel. And the dried up blood has to be something to give it an effect.
I sighed.
It's just a shucking dream.
I faced the mirror again, and decided to see my appearance. I was normal. Bloodshot eyes, yes, but nothing out of the odd stood by it.

After staring at the mirror for a while, I notice something else that was reflective. I turned around to investigate the strange thing, but came face to face with a Griever. A tall, bulky, and slimey griever.

The air was knocked out of my lungs as the Griever pushed its leg to my chest, and fling me to the mirror wall. A shatter erupted behind me as my back connected to the wall, and pieces of glass fell on me. only one cutting my ear.
I quickly grabbed one large and intimidating shard to protect me, somehow.

The Griever just snarled, whirled, and clicked as it began making its way to me. I staggered as I stood up and tried to run, but I was basically glued to my current position.

As the Griever was inches from my face, a loud finger snap roared through the silent hall of the maze. The Griever look agitated, but backed down from me.

It was only a matter of minutes before a dark figure came out of the shade of night. It petted the Griever in comfort before showing itself into the little light.
Herself.

The newbie. She stood tall as she looked down on me, like a predator unto its prey. Her eyes glistened a wicked glint as she still kept her eyes on me and strolled around me. I could feel an evil smirk plaster into her face as she noticed how perplexed I appear to be.

Once she was in front of me, I throughly noticed her appearance. She was wearing a dark green tank top, with dark, loose pants. She wore running shoes, as well as a long brown cloak. On the back of it, though, it obviously stated PROPERTY OF W.I.C.K.E.D.

Once I was finished noticing her appearance, a little light shine upon her face. Her face was splotched with camouflage paint on her cheeks and nose. A few streaks of blood ran down her ears, and bloodshot eyes shot at me. Her (H/C) hair was tied up behind her, only leaving a few strands of dyed silver hair to drop from its existing place.

Before I spoke out against her, she waved her hand at the dark-infested maze. More Grievers came out, just as sickly as the first one. It formed a semi-circle around me, since I was backed up against the wall.

All the grieves snarled at me, wanting to sting me. But the greenie just shushed them. She then started moving her arm to a steady beat, and the grievers clicked and whirled along with the beat. It all came down to a shushed lullaby.

A wave of pain battered my mind as I heard that lullaby. The clicking and whirring were in harmony, but the levels were either too high or too low. You see, to her, it may be lovely, but to any other decent human, it's torture. It reaches high pitches and then low enough pitches to make our ears bleed.That lullaby is literally pricking at my eardrums and heading towards my mind. I tried to run, but the grievers had me trapped. I screamed and even tried to slash the shard at them. I tried to run at them, but it was useless.

All at once, the rising lullaby was killed by her sinister laugh. She started walking towards me, each step letting the wind blow her cloak to one side as it stayed loyal to her. Each step making something rattle. She has weapons.

She took another step, making the grievers click and whirl along with her.

Once she reached me, I could see her weapons that were tucked away at her belt. One weird looking gun, and a few intimidating throwing knives. But one stood out than the rest of them, a small metallic flute.

She noticed my stare, and took the small flute from her belt. With a small breath, she blew the flute while moving her fingers to random positions.

The Grievers immediately reacted with the flute, some whirled and click, some snarled, some tried to launch themselves at me, but didn't attack. The newbie then stopped.

She tucked away her flute gracefully, and then leaned her mouth to me right ear. Her voice was smooth, and kind, but her words sent chills up my spine.
"The Griever Girl has arrived".
##End Of Dream##

I woke up with a jolt, and felt sore all over. Beads of sweat travelled down my forehead and fell onto my sheets.
I sat upright and let my legs swing over the bed. With a deep breath, I slowly got up, trying to make sure I don't cause any creaking sounds. I need to take a klunk, or do anything besides laying in bed.

As I made my way outside, my dream came racing back at me. Why would I get this dream?
I don't think the newbie will be a threat.
No she can't be. She may have a sharp tongue, but I don't think she'll harm another glader. But at the same time, appearance are often taking granted for.

My train of thought stopped as I heard a snap of a twig.
I quickly turned around, only to come face to face with the newbie.
Her streaks of silver hair glistens in the small light of the Glade. She sprouts new beads of sweat every moment, and her skin is awfully pale. Her eyelids are closed, and right now, she is moving like a puppet.
She's sleep walking.

I try to tap her shoulder, see if I can get her to wake up, and make sure that she still isn't shaken up by her unpredictable actions earlier.
But once I tapped her shoulder, she turned to me with bloodshot eyes, and with one small and frail voice, she whispered something. Something lacking decent energy, I could barely hear her, but I knew what she said.
"Help Me"