Gladers choice | TMR | Thomas | Minho

Chapter Eighteen

The pounding of their footsteps echoed through the twisting corridors of the maze as Thomas and Lyra sprinted desperately, the Griever's mechanical screeches drawing closer behind them. She guided Thomas with desperate precision, her knowledge of the labyrinth their only advantage in the deadly game they found themselves in. Each corner turned was a gamble between life and the mechanical horror hot on their trail.

"Keep going!" Thomas yelled over his shoulder, his voice strained with urgency. Lyra glanced back for a split second, catching sight of the Griever's menacing form gaining ground.

Suddenly, the Griever materialized before them, a monstrous sentinel blocking their path with its menacing metal limbs and glowing red eyes. They skidded to a stop, panic seizing them as they realized they were trapped. Without a moment's hesitation, Thomas's strong grip propelled Lyra towards a narrow opening beside the Griever. She stumbled forward, propelled by a surge of adrenaline, and found herself caught by strong, familiar arms.

Minho's arms closed around her with a reassuring strength that momentarily eased the grip of fear on her chest. She looked up into his eyes, finding a mixture of concern and determination mirrored in his expression. "Minho," she breathed, her voice betraying the relief flooding through her.

Minho's eyes searched her face with unspoken worry. "Are you alright?" His voice was low, but there was a steel resolve beneath it.

His voice was urgent yet steady as he glanced past her towards Thomas, who was now dangerously close to being attacked by the advancing Griever. "Thomas!" Minho's call sliced through the tension, edged with deep concern for their friend.

Time seemed to slow as Thomas reacted with lightning speed. He executed a daring maneuver, sliding across the smooth stone floor with the agility of a hunted animal. The Griever hesitated, its mechanical sensors whirring in confusion as it momentarily lost track of its prey.

"Come on!" Minho's urgency broke the spell, his grip on Lyra tightening briefly before he released her, his focus on guiding their next moves.

Lyra nodded, her ankle throbbing with a dull ache from their frantic flight. Adrenaline surged through her veins as they sprinted down the narrowing maze corridor. The Griever's metallic screeches reverberated ominously behind them, a relentless reminder of the danger snapping at their heels.

As they ran, Minho maintained a protective posture, his movements fluid yet purposeful as he kept pace with Lyra. Thomas's determination was palpable in every stride, his gaze flicking over his shoulder to gauge the Griever's pursuit. The labyrinth seemed to pulse with malevolent intent, its narrow walls closing in around them like a vise.

Together, they navigated the maze's treacherous paths, their footsteps a symphony of urgency echoing off the cold stone walls. Each turn and twist brought them deeper into the heart of the labyrinth, where danger lurked in every shadow. Their breaths mingled with the maze's stale air, a testament to their shared struggle against the odds.

In the chaotic rhythm of their flight, Minho's voice broke through once more, cutting through the clamor with clarity. "Lead it to the cliff!" His directive was clear, a plan forming amidst the chaos.

Lyra and Thomas exchanged a quick, determined glance, their unspoken agreement palpable. They maneuvered swiftly through the maze's narrowing corridors, their steps synchronized in a dance of survival. As they approached the precipice, Minho's voice rang out again, sharp and commanding.

"Thomas, do the same move you did earlier, but at the cliff!" Minho's instructions were clear, a calculated gamble in their deadly game with the Griever.

Thomas nodded grimly, adrenaline coursing through him as he prepared to execute the plan. As they reached the cliff's edge, he spun on his heels with practiced precision, executing the same daring slide that had momentarily confused the Griever earlier.