The morning mist clung to the Maze walls, making the already imposing stone feel somehow even more alive, like it was breathing, waiting for us. Newt walked with us to the entrance, his hand brushing against mine in quiet support as we prepared for another run. Even after all this time, there was still that tension in my stomach, that tiny spark of fear whenever we were about to head into the Maze. But knowing he’d be waiting when we got back helped keep me grounded. I looked up at him, giving a small nod, and he squeezed my hand before letting go, a silent promise passing between us.
“You lot be careful out there,” Newt said, his voice firm, though there was worry in his eyes. “Don’t do anything bloody stupid.”
Minho just grinned, rolling his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head. “Please. Stupid is my middle name.”
Thomas smirked, glancing at me. “Guess that makes you ‘Stupid the Leader,’ then.”
“Ha-ha,” Minho replied, but his grin faded quickly, replaced with the serious, no-nonsense expression he wore when we were about to step into the Maze. The joking was just a way to handle the nerves; I knew that better than anyone.
Newt clapped Thomas on the shoulder, gave me one last lingering look, and stepped back, his hand waving us off. “All right, get going, or you’ll make me late for Frypan’s famous slop.”
With one final look back, we turned and sprinted into the Maze, leaving the safety of the Glade behind. The familiar sound of our footsteps hitting the ground echoed off the stone walls, each beat syncing with the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I’d done this a hundred times, but the Maze never felt familiar. It was always changing, always shifting, always ready to turn on us.
We ran in silence for the first hour, our feet moving in perfect rhythm, our minds locked onto the paths we knew so well. Minho led, as always, his gaze sweeping the walls, while Thomas ran beside me, his expression focused. The further we got into the Maze, the more intense our focus became, until it was just us and the endless corridors stretching out ahead of us.
It wasn’t until we reached one of the newer sections that something felt… off. Minho slowed, lifting a hand for us to stop, and we skidded to a halt behind him.
“You feel that?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the Maze itself could hear us.
Thomas and I exchanged a glance, and I felt my heart rate pick up, not from running but from something else. The air here felt… different. Colder, somehow. Like there was something on the other side of the next turn waiting for us.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice hushed.
Minho’s gaze darted around, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure. But there’s something weird about this path.”
Without another word, he turned and started forward, slower this time, his movements more cautious. Thomas and I followed, keeping close, our eyes scanning the walls around us. And then we saw it.
The path opened up into a larger space, unlike any section of the Maze we’d seen before. At the far end, the walls curved inward, almost like a funnel, and there, just beyond the narrowing passage, was something that made my breath catch.
A crack—a small, jagged gap in the stone, just wide enough to see through. And beyond it… light. Not the dim, filtered light of the Maze but something brighter, something more vibrant.
For a moment, none of us moved. We just stood there, staring at that sliver of light, the possibility of escape hanging between us like something too good to be real.
“Is that…?” Thomas’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and hope.
Minho nodded slowly, his gaze locked on the crack. “I think it is.”
My heart hammered in my chest, and for a second, I felt a strange kind of fear—fear of hope, fear of believing that this could actually be a way out. “What if it’s a trap?” I whispered.
“It could be,” Minho said, his tone cautious, but there was a fire in his eyes. “But if it’s not…”
We exchanged glances, the unspoken agreement passing between us. This was it. We had to try.
Carefully, we moved closer, inspecting the crack. It was narrow but deep, like the stone had fractured from the inside out. Thomas ran his hand along the edge, his fingers brushing the light streaming through, and when he looked back at us, his face was filled with a fierce determination.
“We’re telling the others,” he said firmly, his eyes blazing with that familiar intensity. “If this is our chance to get out of here, we’re taking it.”
The run back was a blur. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts—about the Glade, about Newt, about what lay beyond that crack in the Maze. By the time we burst back through the entrance, breathless and wide-eyed, the Gladers were already gathering, sensing something big was happening.
Newt was at the front of the crowd, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern as he took in our faces. “What happened? Did you run into trouble?”
“No,” Minho replied, his voice steady but filled with barely-contained excitement. “We found something. A way out.”
The words echoed through the Glade, and for a second, everything went silent. Then, like a switch had been flipped, voices erupted around us.
“Are you serious?” “A way out?” “Are you sure it’s not a trap?”
Newt’s face was unreadable, his gaze locked onto mine, searching for confirmation. I gave him a small nod, and his expression softened, a flicker of hope shining in his eyes.
“We think it’s real,” Thomas said, his voice rising above the others. “It’s not like anything we’ve seen before. There’s light on the other side, a crack in the wall. It could be our only chance.”
The reactions were mixed. Some Gladers looked thrilled, their faces lighting up with the possibility of freedom, while others looked skeptical, fear flickering in their eyes. I couldn’t blame them; hope was dangerous in a place like this.
“What if it’s a trick?” Gally’s voice cut through the crowd, his arms crossed as he glared at us. “What if it’s just another way for the Maze to mess with our heads?”
“It might be,” Minho replied, unflinching. “But if we don’t try, we’ll never know.”
Murmurs spread through the Gladers, doubt and excitement mingling in equal measure. I glanced at Newt, feeling that same mixture of emotions twisting inside me. The thought of leaving the Glade, of finally escaping this nightmare, was almost too much to believe. But as I looked around at the faces of my friends, my family, I knew we had to try.
Newt stepped forward, his voice calm but filled with conviction. “We can’t ignore this. If there’s even a chance it’s real, we have to take it.”
His words settled over the Glade like a final decision, and slowly, the murmurs quieted. The Gladers looked to us—the Runners—for guidance, for hope. And I felt a strange sense of responsibility, a weight pressing down on me. This was bigger than any of us. This was everyone’s chance.
Minho turned to us, a grin spreading across his face. “Guess tomorrow’s going to be an interesting day.”
I nodded, feeling a surge of adrenaline mixed with something else—hope. Real hope. We had a way out. And for the first time since arriving in the Glade, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we’d finally found a way home.
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I have the next book planned already, don't worry. But let's say this much, the next chapters AND the second book will be more sad, just saying. So be prepared and always keep tissues with you^^
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Maze girl
FanfictionBrought up in a box as the only girl amongst boys, surrounded by a deadly maze. Every day could be your last as you fight for your life along with the boys. Your only job is to survive and get out of there. But there is one person who makes your lif...
