Fluff & Stuff

Stuck In The Maze

(A/N: Have some Maze Runner. I hope you have an a-MAZE-ing day! ;D ;D)

"C'mon you can do it!" The crowd around the entrance encouraged a very tired runner carrying an unconscious runner. "Hurry!"

Someone else came running from behind and helped the tired runner carry the wounded one. The former detective was helping Minho. The detective's name was Sherlock Holmes.

The greenie, John, seeing as neither of them were going to have a chance in reaching the exit alone, ran in at the last minute, ignoring all the yells of the crowd.

"You're going to get trapped in the maze!"

"Don't go into the maze!"

"Stay away!"

But John refused to listen as he ran through the narrow walls that lead to the maze. He ran in but tripped at the last second, landing face first onto the ground in front of the runners.

"Welcome to hell, Greenie." Sherlock said numbly. Minho turned his head to her, sending her a glare that she casually ignored.

"You do realize you're dead now, right? No one survives a night in the maze." Sherlock said, observing John as he rested his hands on his knees breathing heavily.

"The name's Johm, not Greenie. And I'm not no one. We can survive the night. But only if we work together."

"Oh great. More optimists." Sherlock mumbled, carefully placing the injured runner's body on the ground with some help of Minho.

"I feel like you two are going to be a real pain." Minho sighed, shaking his head as Sherlock and John glared at each other.

"You better believe it, mister." Sherlock winked at Minho, earning a look from surprised Minho and an angry John.

John cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the two other runners in front of him. "Let's try to get out of here." John said, already moving to pick up the unconscious runner.

"I've mapped this whole place, there's no way out." Minho said, his shoulders drooping slightly. "The maze changes every night while we sleep."

"This is bullcrap! Who even put us here?!"

"That's what we'd all like to know, pretty boy." Sherlock said as she, observed the runner's wound. John looked over at Minho and mouthed 'pretty boy' pointing at himself with a face of confusion. Minho only shrugged in response.

The trio snapped their heads to the sound of distant animalistic screeching. Minho and Sherlock shared a panicked glance, John looking between them worriedly, feeling very lost.

"Grievers." Minho stated, his body frozen in place as he stated in the direction of the screech.

John looked at them, confused. "Grievers?" He asked. Sherlock sighed deeply, running her hands down her face animatedly.

"Monsters that eat anything that breathes." Sherlock said, sounding very annoyed already. Minho shook his head at Sherlock.

"What's the plan?" John asked, fidgeting with his hands.

"Run." Minho yelled, running in the opposite direction where the screech came from. John and Sherlock turned to see what Minho was running from and panicked, seeing a giant thing with metallic legs run towards them.

"What is that?!" John yelled, turning around to run. He darted off and ran alongside Minho. He looked back, Sherlock just in front of the monster. Her face was twisted into one of panic and she was running as fast as she could.

"It's a-" -crack-

Apparently, she didn't run fast enough.