The Deadliest Generation: The Maze Of Monsters

The Creators

Trigger warnings:
minor stress induced self harm
description of injuries
blood
mentions of death
weapons
impulsive thoughts [mainly dark thoughts]
mentions of suicidal intentions
retching
description of illness, nausea, feeling sick

hyperventilating [not a panic attack]

Pain snapped Thomas out of his trance. 

The Griever had grabbed him with two instruments and started to drag him backwards, but that didn't freak out until he saw one of the monsters swipe at Chuck with a long shining blade.

"Push!" Thoma shrieked at Teresa, who jumped to attention just as he had and did, slamming the heel of her palm into the plastic.

Everything went perfectly, and eerily silent. 

Then, from somewhere down the dark corridor  came the sound of metal screeching; a door sliding open. 

Almost at once too, the Grievers shut down, their claws falling off of Thomas, their little light bulbs flicking off. Their inside machines rumbled to a stop, going silent. And that door...

Thomas fell to the floor after being released by his captor and gasped in pain as he hit the floor, feeling his shirt stick to a stinging cut. Despite that, he felt elation flow through him and he let out a breathy laugh as he turned to see Chuck scoot away from the Grievers that had been dangerously close to injuring him, and running to Teresa, who gripped him in a fierce one armed hug. The pair of them then walked over to Thomas, and Teresa used her other hand to haul him to his feet.

Thomas grinned at them both, and Teresa smiled brightly at Chuck.

"You did it, Chuck!" Teresa exclaimed with a beam, "We were both so stupidly worried about those damn code words, we didn't even think of looking around for something to push, the last word, the last piece of the puzzle."

Thomas laughed again, pulling Chuck into a hug. God, he was so relieved. After all of that, it had been so simple. And that they were both okay... it was a miracle in itself.

"Chuck, she's right!" Thomas said, hugging the younger boy harder out of his elation. "You saved us - I told you we needed you!"

Teresa joined the hug as well, ruffling Thomas's hair as if he was just as young as Chuck. 

They broke the hug after about a minute, and it had relaxed Thomas in a way which helped his built up panic attack calm down. 

"What about the others?" Teresa asked, and Thomas looked around, staring up at the hole, his elation withering and his worry returning in a strong wave. 

Shuck.

What if...

No...

However, as if to answer Teresa's question, Minho fell through the Griever Hole.

He looked like he'd been injured; burnt, bruised, cut or stabbed on about ninety percent of his body. 

He looked withered, beaten down and utterly exhausted.

Thomas ran over to him, with a yell of "Minho!" and Minho dropped his weapons in shock, the metal clattering on the stone floor as Thomas pulled him into a firm hug. 

Thank god he was okay. Thank god.

"It's nice to see you two, Thomas," Minho said, sounding a little confused, but as Thomas let him go, Minho was smiling, and when he spotted Chuck next to Teresa, he looked incredibly relieved. 

"Are you okay?!" Thomas asked, glancing down at Minho's wounds, slightly concerned for his friend. 

Minho nodded, but he looked entirely ready to collapse. His forehead was slicked with sweat,  his shirt stained and slightly damp with either his or someone else's blood, grime and oil spotting his skin, but his hair was still somehow perfect.