Maze Runner One Shots (Requests Open)

Guilty Grief (Teresa)

Your entire body ached, your chest tightening at every forced breath. Your head was pounding, sending spells of nausea over you. Your heart broke more and more every second, corrupted memories and betrayal making you wonder if waking up was even worth it.

As you were lying in wait for the temporary mercy of sleep, your door was opened. You didn't even bother to look up as the sound of heavy footsteps practically echoing, making your headache even worse somehow.

"Let's go,"a male said without taking in your broken and defeated figure. They knew you wouldn't move on your own though. Most subjects rarely did after a month, much less six.

He grabbed your wrist to force you to your feet. You didn't attempt to stand on your own or even open your eyes, as your shoulder was grabbed by the man next to him. Like you were a ragdoll, their property they could maneuver and manipulate however they pleased, they lifted you from the ground. Your toes barely even grazed it as they began dragging you. It was the first time in a week you had been outside your cell. The scent of thin, freshly washed blankets was replaced with harsh chemicals and a concerning metallic smell that almost made you gag.

The guards barely noticed by now, practically immune to all the evil that surrounded them. After all, they spent so much of their lives causing it, far past the point of not fully registering what had been taught or the complexity of it all. To them, you were all simply numbers to be used and discarded when you couldn't serve them.

You heard a beep that, while actually barely noticeable in normal scenarios, screamed inside your skull from your days of almost pure silence. You winced as you felt a surge of anger. Your fists weakly balled up only to immediately fall as they forced you inside.

Your spirit wanted to prove yourself, to promise that you weren't broken. You hadn't lost hope. Not yet. Not ever.

You could barely even fight, much less win anything against them.

They set you on a chair they had already pulled out for you, an excuse of kindness that made you want to laugh. Your heart was bitter, almost frozen over. You were already filled with constant fear and pain. You didn't think you had too much room left for feelings.

They each took a hand, placing them on the table
Your head leaned forward as they took chains you hadn't noticed. Your arms were limp, letting them easily trap your wrists. You couldn't even feel it, arms too bruised from your time strapped into machines.

Your eyes open, leaving you blinded as lines of white light clouded your vision. You groaned, covering your face. They were overheads that flickered, filling you with annoyance. Torture apparently wasn't enough for them. They had to make everything as inconvenient as possible for maximum discomfort.

After another grueling minute accompanied by the taunting of the clock, laughing at your misery, you heard the clicking of heels against the cold tile floor. They were hesitant, an unsteadiness that made you sure they didn't belong here. They were the first sounds from a WCKD worker that had any kind of remorse.

When you looked up to see her, your heart stopped, breath stolen. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, something that would make you gasp if you had the strength.

Her brown hair that turns lighter in the sun was tucked into a tight bun, pinned behind her ears. Her ocean blue eyes were filled with remorse but not regret, a wish that things could be different but a belief that because of the circumstances this is the only way. A necklace you didn't recognize hung around her neck, a gold locket with a thin chain. She was covered by a clean white lab coat, WCKD etched in black in the front and two black pens in the pocket.

Teresa shut the door, still giving you no privacy seeing as it was all glass. You wanted to roll your eyes at her but knew pretending not to care about anything about her would send a pain through her chest sharper than any knife.