Cursed Peace (Minho x Reader)

Don't let the bugs bite

Thomas's Pov:
It was all hazy. His thoughts and what could only be described as memories ran around in his dreams. His feet pounded on the floor of the glade propelling him across the meadow. The memory faded as his mind filled with bright lights and an eerie voice echoed "WCKD is good....". Thomas had no comprehension of time or space as blue lights encompassed his vision. Cells, membranes and DNA moved throughout his dream, flashing hazily he saw an outline of a maze. The maze? His brain denied him time to process what he was seeing swiftly shifting to faces. "Thomas" a voice echoed through his mind. Children, boys and girls of all young ages stared at him haunted and some even determined as blood and the maze walls pooled into the memories. A gentle voice called him "can you hear me?". The faces returned travelling in and out at a faster rate with lights flashing in and out revealing tables and holograms showing all kinds of unprocessed information.

A girl, around the same age as Thomas turned to look at him. It was the only face he'd seen that hadn't been blurred out by his mind. Her deep brown eyes looked straight into his soul as he remembered every feature he could. The flashes returned and the images flew through his dream at a speed that was barely decipherable. A familiar voices screams could be heard amongst all the whispering in his head, "THOMAS! THOMAS DON'T FORGET!". He knew the scene playing in his mind was a memory. It was too familiar for something made up. He saw a girl with (h/c) thrashing in her captors arms wrenching her body at all angles trying to escape their grasp. Her face was hidden behind her hair as her head was thrown about, guttural shouts and screams echoed through Thomas's mind as he watched the scene unfurl. As quickly as it came the memory of the girl faded and the flashes were back. A soft and broken whisper pierced through the noise louder than any of her screams, "They won't break us, I know you'll find me."

Then it was quiet... Thomas's eyes had opened.

(Y/n's) Pov:
She was back on duty finally. Her legs itched to run as she pulled on her leather breastplate and laced her boots up tight. As usual Minho stood at the edge of the grove patiently waiting for her to emerge out of the trees. (Y/n) intended to run through sector 4 in the hopes she'd find a new route after the nights routinely changes. The glade was silent as the two evened out their breathing whilst they jogged through the meadow. Minho was always ahead of her and it irked every fibre of her body knowing she was last. It wasn't that she was slow - in fact she could outrun Minho any day - it was simply because her legs weren't as long as his. A jog required even steps and hers just happened to be several centimetres more even. Every time (Y/n) ran through the maze doors she felt the looming presence of something, as if she was being weighed and tested. Was she worthy of entering the dangerous walls, is she strong enough to handle the burden of its secrets, is she strong enough to survive? She wished she could just simply answer yes.

The two runners steps bounced off the walls filling the small corridors with a rhythmic thudding. The two had been running for almost half the day clearing most of sector 4. Stopping for a breather in the middle of a split path, the girl walked towards the wall drawing the knife from her leather breastplate. She etched a small line into the wall next to 7 others.

"I really thought there could've been something here for once."

"Don't beat yourself up (Y/n) it was a good theory."

"I just don't understand how the grievers could get so close to the western doors and not leave any evidence of using sector 4 to get there. There's no other way around from where we saw those scratch marks in 5."

The boy looked at the girl with sympathy. Ever since she got trapped in the maze (Y/n) had been madly trying to find patterns in the grievers movements from trails and marks they left behind from their nightly activities. It didn't make any sense how they moved or acted. It was unlike any creature or animal the girl had watched back at the glade, they had no pattern or general survival instinct. They were unpredictable and that is what scared (Y/n) the most. The sun continued to shine down on the pair as Minho waited for her to finish etching the tally into the wall. 8 times the runners had run this path and 8 times it hadn't helped them in the slightest.