𝒯𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐭mr 𝐦inho

Chapter 22- Death in the Maze

Minho's hand shot out of nowhere, grabbing Thomas by the collar and yanking him into the hallway.

Thomas staggered, blinking like he couldn't even register what was happening. Who was touching him and what was real.

Neither did he recognize Minho. Nor me.

"Thomas! It's us!" Minho screamed, already winded. "Calm the hell down!"

"What—?"

"No time. Move!" Minho barked, not slowing even for a breath. He was already dragging Thomas down the corridor and I sprinted after them, footsteps slamming against the stone floor. The Maze walls twisted and turned like they were rearranging around us. My pulse was a hammer in my ears.

Panic lingered from earlier, crawling in my chest like something alive. The exhaustion hit in waves, each corner we turned sucked a little more out of me.

Stay flicking focused for once.

Flicking? What does that even mean?

Fliming? Flicking? Flinching? Fuck it. Whatever. It's a finching death situation, that's what it is.

Minho never hesitated, not once. Left, then right, then left again. Like he was reading the Maze's mind. Or gambling with ours.

We veered around another bend and Minho gasped between steps, voice rasped and broken: "That dive move you pulled back there, Thomas... gave me an idea. Just need to last... a little longer."

Thomas didn't answer. His breaths were short, sharp. Probably figured speaking would cost too much.

I, unfortunately, didn't have that self-control.

"What dive?"

"If you don't shut your hole, I swear—"

A mechanical shriek pierced the air behind us. The sound of something furious. Something hunting.

Yeah. That shut us up real fast.

Then, ahead, something shifted. A trick of the light at first. The end of the corridor didn't end, it opened. Into black.

No walls. No floor.

Stars.

The Ledge.

My heart plunged. Cold dread settled in my chest like stone. I didn't even need to hear it from Minho, I knew. So that was his idea.

Thomas stiffened beside me, and I could practically feel his thoughts crashing into each other. First-timers always react the same to the Ledge — wide eyes, paralyzed for a split second too long. Should I tell him this isn't the exit?

"Don't get excited, shank," Minho panted.

Cold. Real cold, considering Thomas almost died back there. And me? I left him. Ran. He's alive, though. Breathing loudly and very much in panic.

"Are we seriously going to—?"

Minho cut him off. "That dodge move you did, waited 'til the last second. They're fast, but not smart."

I shot him a look. "You sure? They seem pretty smart at killing."

Minho turned and glared at me. That trademark Minho death-stare.

Right. Not the time. Save the sass for later.

"They want to kill us so bad," he said between gasps, "they don't even watch their damn feet."