Multifandom One-shots

6. Echoes of the Maze - Minho x reader (The Maze Runner)

Why... Why? I don't know why. The incessant echo of the question echoes through the corridors of my mind, a haunting melody that refuses to loosen its grip. I find myself ensnared in the enigma of my own thoughts, grappling with an elusive understanding that slips through my fingers like elusive shadows.

What... What? I don't know what. A perplexing puzzle that dances just beyond the outskirts of my consciousness. I yearn for clarity—a physical form to attach to the obscure mysteries that shroud my existence. Yet, every attempt to unravel the enigma leaves me with more questions than answers.

How... How? I don't know how. A plea for understanding hangs in the air like an unanswered prayer. I reach out for comprehension, hoping to grasp the threads that connect the fragments of my past. But the answers remain elusive, hidden within the labyrinthine corridors of my memories.

These questions keep wandering in my mind. I try to shake them off, but when I do, nothing happens. This... this haunting melody refuses to fade. It feels like it's attacking me because it knows that it is my weakness. I can no longer deny its presence. It feels like I'm trapped in a maze, which I actually am.

Every time I think I've found my way out, the path vanishes, and I'm greeted with a wall too high to climb. And I'm greeted with a wall. As I try to navigate through the maze of my thoughts, once again, I realize that the answer to my questions may lie within the shadows of my past. The haunting melody could appear to be a key. But that would be useless because I have no recall of the past.

I stand there, frozen in the middle of the glade, surrounded by towering stone walls that seem to close in on me. The other Gladers go about their business, but I'm consumed by the mystery of my own existence. The more I try to grasp the answers to my questions, the more they seem to slip away like grains of sand through my fingers.

The Gladers, my fellow maze-dwellers, cast wary glances my way as if sensing the turmoil within.

The haunting melody echoes through the glade, bouncing off the walls that encircle us. It's a melody that none of the Gladers recognize, and yet it resonates with something deep within me. It feels like a message from the past, but the past I can't recall, no matter how hard I try.

But then there's the sound that all Gladers are so familiar with. The blaring signal that a new greenie is on its way to our unwanted home. I start to run towards the blasting sound and the metal cage. The Gladers, with a mix of curiosity and wariness, gather around, forming a type of circle. Each fighting for a stand at the front, even though they know they won't win.

And amid the commotion, my hand somehow finds its way to Newt's, our fingers interlocking without conscious effort. Newt's grip on my hand tightens as the cage grinds to a halt. Some of the Gladers, eager to see the newcomer, open the cage. My breath seems to stop as anxiety and curiosity win over the unspoken truth.

There, a frighted boy, probably around seventeen or something, was laying on his back with his hand blocking out the glowing sun. A shock of unruly brown hair framing his face giving him a slightly disheveled yet determined appearance. His eyes, a shade of intense blue, held a mix of curiosity and resilience. The lines on his face hinting at a sense of determination.

He had a lean and athletic build, a testament to the physical demands of our lives in the glade and maze. There was an air of quiet strength about him, as if he carried a burden not visible to the naked eye. His expression, a mix of determination, curiosity, and fear, seemed to reflect an inner turmoil.

But there was something hidden in his gaze that hinted at a latent courage, a willingness to confront the unknown.

But my look at the grennie was short-lived as Gally jumped in the box, scaring the poor newcomer. And I could hear him say to the new greenie, "Rise and shine," before he took a hold of his shirt and pulled him out of the box. And to my disappointment, all the boys laughed at him, forgetting that they had once been in his shoes, afraid.