Abused ≫ Newt [2]

Chapter 18.

Her footsteps echoed loudly throughout the silent Maze. She walked calmy, the arrow in her hand, an arrow crooked in the weapon. She was out of breath, her head was spinning, every bone and muscle in her body screamed for her to stop walking- to rest, even if it was just for a minute or so. She was exhausted.
But she did not stop.
She could not stop. Not when she was surrounded by blood-thirsty, man-eating monsters. She had not seen any signs of Minho or Thomas for who knows how long. Maybe minutes. Perhaps even hours. She did not know. She lost track of time a while ago.
All she knew was that it was night, and she was on her own. She did not know whether Thomas and Minho were still alive or not. As far as she knew, they had already been ripped to shreads by Grievers.
She walked slowly, rounding each corner at a snail's pace. If there was a Griever waiting around the corner, she did not want to run straight into it. She knew that, in order to make it through the night alive, she had too be sneaky. Stealthy.
She had no idea where she was going, only relying on her instincts to show her the way. It seemed to be working, however, as she had survived this long already.
She jumped at every little noise- every click, every growl, every whirr. It seemed as if the noises were coming from everywhere at once, which caused her to become disoriented. Either the walls caused all the noises to echo throughout the Maze, or the Grievers were all around her. Either way, she did not like it one bit. She did not move at a fast pace because of these noises, scared that, if she rounded a corner at a quick pace, she would come face to face with a drooling, flesh-eating machine.
Her arms were covered in bruises and scrapes, while there was a deep gash on her cheek, right under her eye, oozing deep crimson blood. She did her best to ignore the constant stings of pain coming from the wounds, focusing only on one thing: surviving.
A thin mist had gathered close to the ground of the Maze, causing her vision to become blurry and disoriented. Eerie shadows danced along the wall; she jumped every time one appeared. Most of them were only the beetle blades, scurrying across the wall before disappearing into the thick curtain of ivy.
Her head constantly snapped behind her at every little noise, expecting to see a Griever slowly creeping up on her.
She moved against the wall as she neared yet another corner. Her back pressed against the thick, damp ivy as she slid across the wall slowly. She peaked around the corner, letting out a shaky breath of relief when she saw nothing but darkness.
She moved to round the corner, freezing as the all-too familiar, dreadful sound filled her ears. It came from right behind her, the low growls vibrating off the Maze walls. She turned around ever so slightly, feeling every muscle in her body tense as she stared at the nightmare on legs, standing not ten feet from her. Almost as if she had triggered something by turning around, the Griever let out a blood-curdling screech, like some sort of battle cry.
Without even stopping to process any thoughts, Emily turned and took off running. Adrenaline pumped through her veins; the only thing that kept her going at that point. The monster let out a series of screams as it took chase, its metal leg hitting the ground with a loud clank every time it took a step. Her persuer caught up to her quickly, and was right behind her within seconds of beginning the chase.
She had to find a way to loose it, though she had no idea how. As far as she could see, no sections were closing off. No way to escape the monster. The only choice she had was to run.
And that was what she did.
She ran as fast as she could manage. Her vision was blurry, her heart pumping so loud, she could hear it over the growls of the Griever behind her. It was almost like deja-vu. In fact, it was deja-vu. She remember her previous night in the Maze, running from a Griever just like she was now. The only difference was: she had someone to help her through it then.
Now, she was alone. Completely and utterly alone.
Her legs felt like geletin, ready to collapse at any given moment. But, even then, she did not stop. She would not stop running until she was safe, even if it killed her.
She only had one thought running through her mind at that moment: Newt.
Of course, it seemed stupid to be thinking about a boy whilst being chased by a flesh-eating monster. She should have been thinking about loosing the thing, surviving. But, honestly, thinking of Newt helped her. It pushed her on, kept her from giving up completely and just letting the Griever catch her. She kept on imagining the look on his face when she returned the next morning. The smile that would appear on his perfect lips. It was enough to keep her going, no matter how exhausted she felt.
But maybe she was only getting her hopes up. Maybe Newt would not be happy to see her. What if he was angry? What if he wanted nothing to do with her after this?
She pushed the unhappy thought to the back of her mind, and focused on the more important thing: surviving, and being able to see him one last time before her death.
Her steps were heavy, feeling as if there were bricks tied to the bottom of her feet. The bow was still clutched tightly in her hand, the arrow still crooked in it. She did not dare try to turn around the shoot the monster that was persuing her. It would only allow the thing to catch up to her, and she could not allow that to happen.
Emily rounded the next corner, quickening her pace in hopes to loose the Griever. Her eyes scanned the walls for any small signs of hiding spots. Almost as if it were a miracle, she almost immediately spotted a deep crevice in the wall. Not too big, but enough to fit a teenage girl inside. She slowed her pace, quickly squeezed herself into the crevice just as the Griever rounded the corner.
Almost as if the creature had turned off, all sounds coming from it stopped. She would have believed the thing was turned off, or even left, if only it weren't for the stench of burning oil coming from the beast. Then, all of a sudden, the thing turned back on. It no longer made angry screeching noises, but instead a low growl as it slowly walked down the long, dark corridor. She knew it must have suspected something, and silently prayed to herself that the things didn't have that good of a sense of smell.
If only it would just walk right past her... then she would be okay.
The thing was right outside the crevice now. The Griever made a whirring sound as it stopped walking, a low hiss following it. It was as if it could sense her presence, and was looking for her. It more than likely knew she was there. The thing was half animal, half machine. Its senses were probably modified- made to be able to detect someone wherever they were.
Emily held her breath, knowing that any little noise would alert the monster of her hiding spot.
The Griever let out one last long hiss before it started moving again. Emily felt her shoulders relax as the thing moved down the corridor. She let out a shaky breath, closed to eyes for a moment while she attempted to process everything that was going on.
The sounds of the Griever faded away as it turned the corner, though she did not dare to come out of her hiding place. Not yet.
For what she could see, the moon was almost in the middle of the sky, telling her it was close to midnight. She had almost made it halfway through the night. If only she could survive about six more hours, then she would be okay.
She sat there for who knows how long. It felt like hours, but she guessed that it had only been a few minutes. Time seemed to drag on as she sat completely still, not wanting to move and take the chance of running into yet another Griever.
She heard every sound of the monsters, saw every flashing light as one passed by, thankfully unaware of the girl hiding in a crevice not three feet away from it.
Her eyes were drooping, her mind begging her to sleep. There was not enough room in the small crevice for her to sit, let alone lay down, so she forced her eyes to stay open, no matter how much she wanted to sleep.
After what seemed like lifetimes of waiting in the small hole, Emily began to feel impatient, restless. Adrenaline was still pumping through her veins, suddenly giving her an odd surge of energy. She wanted to run, she wanted to risk her life by being chased by a Griever. She wanted to feel alive, and yet she had no idea why.
She slowly slipped out of the crevice, looking around her for any signs of a Griever. She let out a sigh of relief when there was none. She turned and began walking in the opposite direction that the Grievers went before. The moon shines brightly in the sky, illuminating the Maze in an eerie yellow glow. The only sound was her feet taping against the cracked stone, seeming to echo off of every wall around her.
Emily jumped, startled, as a blood-curdling scream rang throughout the night air. It was coming from inside the Maze, that was easy to tell, but from where- she had no idea. It sounded close but, then again, with the walls echoing every little sound, it was hard to tell exactly.
It was not the scream of a Griever, but of a human. The hairs on Emily's arms stood on end, a mixture or relief and fear flooded over her.
At least someone was still alive. Whether it was Thomas or Minho, she did not know, but they were alive. Though for how long?
She listened as the boy screamed again, listening carefully for any signs of pain.
The scream showed no signs of pain, thankfully. More like fear, or frustration, even.
Whatever was happening to him, it was not killing him. Yet.
Emily began walking in the direction she thought the scream was coming from. Again, it was hard to tell with the towering walls echoing in every direction. She was trusting her instincts on this one, hoping that they were right.
The screech of a Griever caused her to jump, followed by the sounds of ivy rustling. She raised the bow, looking around her with wide eyes. It sounded as if the monster was just around the corner, and when it let out another low growl, she realized that it was just on the other side of the wall. The growl was closely followed by a voice. It was quiet, barely even audible, but she could still make it out.
"Come and get me!"
The voice belonged to Thomas.
He was alive, though he was being chased by a Griever.
"Thomas!" Emily frantically searched for a way to get to the boy, letting out a frustrated groan when she found none. There was no way to get to him from where she was.
"Emily!" Thomas's voice was full of fear, barely audible over the loud whirring of the Griever. "Don't stop running, Emily! I'll find you.  Just don't stop running!"
His words were enough to convince her. She took off running in the direction she came, hoping that it was the right choice. The sounds of the Griever chasing Thomas began to fade away as she ran, and she realized with a jolt that she was getting farther and farther away from them.
She turned into a new corridor and quickened her pace, hoping that, somehow, she would be led back to Thomas. The wind blew in her face, almost instantly cooling her down. She was no longer sweating. In fact, she couldn't help but feel a little chilly. She did not mind however, it kept her awake.
She turned a sharp right without even breaking her pace. She let out a startled yell as she collided with something. She felt to the ground, a groan escaping her lips as pain shot up from her rear end. She looked up through narrowed eyes, expecting to come face to face with either a Griever, or a dead end.
Though she did not see either one of those. Instead, she came face to face with a wide-eyed, panting Minho. Despite looking as if he were about to pass out at any given moment, he still managed to smile as he stared down at her.
"Nice to see you again."