Subject A6: The Hope

Chapter 11: Run Boy Run...

Y/N's POV:

The next day dawned with a heavy sense of unease lingering over the Glade. The disappearance of Ben and the subsequent events had cast a shadow of fear and uncertainty among us. As I stood by the edge of the clearing, staring into the foreboding entrance of the Maze, Newt's voice broke through my thoughts.

"Y/N," he murmured, his hand warm against my shoulder. "They'll find out what happened. Minho and Alby will keep us safe."

I nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile, though my heart clenched with worry. "I hope so, Newt. It's just... Ben was our friend, and he died the most gruesome death imaginable..."

"He still is," Newt said firmly, his gaze meeting mine with unwavering certainty. "And we'll do everything we can to prevent his death from happening to anyone else, love. I promise..."

His words offered some solace, but deep down, the fear gnawed at me. What if Bens death isn't just a one-off? What if none of us made it out of this place alive?

As dusk settled over the Glade, tension thickened the air. Minho emerged from the Maze, dragging Alby behind him. Both were battered and bloodied, and my heart sank at the sight of Alby's pale, drawn face.

"He's been stung," Minho announced grimly, his voice cutting through the murmurs of concern. Without hesitation, Thomas and I rushed forward to help, but our urgency only grew as the Maze doors began to close before us.

"No!" Thomas cried out, his voice desperate as we sprinted towards the narrowing gap. With a surge of adrenaline, we slipped through just before the doors sealed shut behind us.

Inside the Maze, darkness engulfed us, broken only by the eerie glow of the Maze walls. We moved quickly, guided by Minho's determined pace. Every corner held the promise of danger, every echo a potential threat.

"We can't stay here," Minho muttered, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. "We need to find a safe spot."

Thomas nodded, his jaw set with determination. "Let's get Alby up high. Away from the Grievers."

Together, we hoisted Alby onto a narrow ledge, securing him with makeshift ropes to hide him from the Grievers' sight.

"We'll keep watch," Thomas said, his voice firm. "Minho, what's our next move?"

Minho's gaze swept over the Maze walls, calculating our options. "We wait until dawn. Then we make a run for it. Stick together, stay quiet."

Hours passed in tense silence. I leaned against the cool stone wall, my thoughts racing as we listened to the distant echoes of Grievers prowling nearby. Thomas paced restlessly, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Y/N," Thomas whispered, his voice barely audible in the darkness. "Are you holding up okay?"

I nodded, though my hands trembled slightly. "Just scared. But we have to stay strong."

"We will," Thomas promised, his hand finding mine in the darkness. "We'll get through this together."

Suddenly, Minho's sharp intake of breath shattered the fragile calm. "Grievers," he hissed, motioning for us to hide deeper in the shadows. We pressed against the cold stone wall, hearts pounding in unison as the mechanical beasts prowled past, their metallic legs clinking against the ground.

Minutes stretched into eternity as we held our breath, willing the Grievers to pass us by. Finally, as the last one disappeared into the darkness, Minho signaled that it was safe to move.

"We need to find a way out," Thomas whispered urgently, his eyes scanning the Maze walls for any signs of an exit.

"We stick together," Minho insisted, leading the way with a sense of purpose that fueled our determination. Step by cautious step, we navigated the Maze's treacherous corridors, always on high alert for the next threat.

A narrow passageway loomed ahead, its walls closing in. A Griever emerged from the darkness, its mechanical form blocking our path.

"Thomas, Y/N, go!" Minho shouted, urgency lacing his voice. Without hesitation, we darted into the narrow opening just as the walls began to slide shut.

In the cramped space, Thomas and I pressed against each other, hearts pounding in sync with the rhythmic thud of the closing walls. The Griever lunged forward, its sharp claws scraping against the stone, but the narrowing passage was too tight for its massive frame.

With a final, desperate cry, the Griever was crushed between the closing walls, its metallic body contorting in a mechanical death throes. The sound of grinding metal filled the air, a chilling symphony of victory and survival.

When the walls finally stilled, Thomas and I emerged cautiously, breathing heavily as we surveyed the destruction. Minho stood nearby, his expression a mix of exhaustion and triumph.

"We did it," Thomas breathed, his voice filled with disbelief.

"We survived," Minho agreed, a rare smile breaking through his stoic demeanor. "And we killed a Griever."

As dawn broke over the Glade, the Maze doors began to open once more. We emerged, weary and battered, but alive. The Gladers greeted us with a mix of relief and awe, their faces mirroring the disbelief of our feat.

Newt rushed forward, his arms enveloping me in a tight embrace as he spun me around, tears streaming down both of our faces. I clung to him like my lifeline, sobbing into his arms as he held me close, pressing soft kisses on the expanse of my neck and collarbones. "I thought I'd lost you," he murmured against my hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't lose you, Y/N."

"I'm here," I whispered, holding him close as I kissed him softly, my hands caressing his face sweetly as I leaned my head on his, basking in his warm embrace. "We made it, I'm sorry I worried you baby, but I'm ok..." I continued to murmur soft words of reassurance, pressing soft kisses all over his face as he held me close, his taller, muscular frame shielding me from the eyes of others as I broke down, shaking out of fear and exhaustion in his arms.

Together, we stood amidst the cheers and applause, our bodies intertwined as we faced the dawn together. In that moment, amidst the chaos and danger of the Maze, our love stood as a beacon of hope and strength.