Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
WICKED COMPOUND, MAZE TRIALS SUPERVISION
THE BROWN-HAIRED GIRL WINCED, "Sorry, Jame."
She watched through the screen as her longest friend sieze on the ground in pain—a pain that was necessary for her further protection. She hated that it had to be this way, but she remembered how Cal had warned both of them all those years ago. Not as long ago as any of her other memories with them but long enough for the memory to ache, for this to ache.
The girl watched as the boy she had gotten familiar with caught her friend before she could possibly damage her even more, she watched as he screamed for help, she watched as the boys took care of her friend. That's what she did, what she had always done; she watched. She kept an eye on her just like she promised her sister and herself she would; she watched when her friend slowly descend into madness in her months of solitude in the Glade, she watched when her friend tried to take her own life —she has never been more grateful that it was just in time as the other Subjects would start their trials. She watched. That's all she did. That's all she can do. Watch.
It pains her as if it was a thousand cuts to see the things they have been through, the things they've been in inflicting on them. It pains her even more that there was nothing she could do about it. No one to help, no one she could trust to even start forming a plan.
Well, maybe there was one.
But besides him, everyone she loved, trusted, and cared about all have either been sent to the Maze or just... just gone.
He always seemed nice, maybe he was. He's been acting oddly suspicious, she didn't know whether that was a good sign or not. She knew he kept secrets, she did too. Everyone kept secrets, it's whether or not for a good reason or a bad one that they're keeping it. She couldn't risk it, she couldn't risk putting her friend's life on the line.
This was the only chance of saving her she could even try.
She didn't care how long it would take—well, she did, she had to. They all lived under a ticking time bomb still—but she will send her a warning in any way, there has been too much close calls, she can't risk another one. Having access to the surveillence can only do so much.
"Juno?"
The brown-haired girl gasped at the sudden presence behind her. She turned around to see the least untrustworthy person she's been in vicinity of in a while, but still, that didn't dissipate her panic. She still trust anyone completely, not even him.
She tried to swallow her panic, just so at least it wouldn't raise any more suspicion.
"Thomas! H-Hi— T-Thomas—It's Thomas!" damn it, great going.
Said boy furrowed his brows in confusion, "Yeah, that's me, I guess." he took closer steps towards her way, "What are you doing?"
"N-Nothing..."
His brows scrunched further. He didn't trust her.
(She wouldn't either, if she was being honest. She was being mega weird.)
After a moment, she sighed. Closing her eyes, praying, hoping, anything, that her next move won't bite her in the ass.
She walked closer to him, almost face to face, close enough her whispers wouldn't fall on deaf ears; "You can't tell anyone, please."
He tilted his head in confusion, "Tell anyone what?"
"They'll kill her. They already wanted to, they can't find out."
"Wh— what?" he looked behind him and placed his hands on the side of her upper arms, pulling her further away from the open space, "Kill who?"
She shook her head in almost defeat, "You just have to trust me on this. Please."
It took a moment for him to look over her expression, scanning her for his reassurance. Eventually, he nodded; "Okay."
