The Deadliest Generation: The Maze Of Monsters

The Creators, Chuck - and Gally

Author's Note: Hey guys! Gentle reminder; Thomas and Newt ARE minors in this story (Thomas 16 and Newt 17), so could y'all refrain from making sexual jokes about them? Even if I aged them up, I still wouldn't be comfortable with it, so could you guys not comment anything like that please? 

Love you all though, I'm appreciative of all the people who are reading my story, it's really helping me atm, so thank u guys for all ur support and I genuinely can't wait to write the rest of this series :))). If you guys want any spin off stories or things about this, I can make a oneshot book about that :)

Trigger Warnings. There do seem to be a lot in this book, (not just the fanfic, but the Maze Runner books in general) and there is one aspect I might take out of the flashbacks, namely, Newt taking drugs, (especially considering how Newt is around thirteen in the flashbacks) as I never planned on him being an addict, but I don't know how to deal with that topic so I will be removing that. 

So, onto the actual trigger warnings for this chapter: 
stress
weapons
death
blood

Thomas took a step backwards, noticing a few others do the same. 

Deathly silence sucked all the sounds and life out of the air as every Glader noticed and gaped at the rows of windows, at the row of observers. Thomas watched one of the 'Creators' look down and write something, another would reach up and put on a pair of glasses.

They all wore white labatory coats over pale shirts, a word sticked on the right side of the chest that Thomas couldn't make out quite what it said.

None of them had any particular expression, just blank, programming faces like robots. Sallow, gaunt, and plain.

They continued to stare at the Gladers; a person shook their head and another person nodded. Yet another person reached up and scratched their nose - the most human thing that Thomas had ever seen any of them do so far.

"Who are those people?" Chuck whispered, his voice taking on a raspy edge of pure fear. 

"The Creators," Minho replied; then he spat on the floor. "I'm gonna break your shucking faces!" He screamed, so loudly that Thomas winced, almost about to cover his ears. 

"What do we do?" he asked weakly, his ears aching. "What are we waiting for?" 

"They've probably revved the Grievers back up," Newt muttered miserably, "I bet they're coming right now -"

A loud beeping sound cut him off, and someone behind Thomas inhaled sharply. It was like a warning alarm of a huge truck driving in reverse, but much more powerful. It came from everywhere, booming and echoing throughout the chamber. 

"What now?" Chuck asked, not bothering to, or maybe unable to hide the concern in his voice.

For some reason, everyone looked at Thomas, although he was the one who'd voiced the concern beforehand.

He shrugged in answer - he'd only remembered so much, and he was a s clueless as anyone else, apart from... he glanced at Teresa, who shrugged, then at River, who was staring at his surroundings as if they were painfully familiar, but when he saw Thomas looking he mouthed, "I don't know," then seemed to zone out, staring at a massive vent shaft.

Thomas felt scared. He scanned the place from top to bottom, but couldn't even tell where the beeps had come from. Nothing had changed. No speakers, nothing. 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Gladers staring at a certain point. He followed their gaze to see the doors. His heart rate quickened when he saw one of the doors begin to open, and it swung towards them.