Nepenthe (TMR FF) UNDER EDITING

Chapter 11

After spending a couple of nights in the makeshift cell we got going on, I was finally able to go running again. Minho, and his friend Ben, were just as excited as I was. I haven't really spoken to Ben, but Minho seemed to like him, so I guess that I do too. He's always been nice to me as well, so that helps.

We were currently at the entrance of the maze, our packs strapped to our waists. I let out a sigh of contentment.

"Don't get too excited, Emmy. You don't want to get yourself lost." Minho teased, making Ben laugh. I rolled my eyes playfully, shaking my head.

"As if. I bet I know this Maze better than you now." I joked, nudging him. The two boys continued to laugh as we jogged into the maze.

"Just be careful, okay?" Minho said, his tone filled with worry. I shot him a smirk, before running down a path to my right.

"Aren't I always?"

"No!"

I let out a laugh, before turning and running so that I was no longer in the sight of the boys. Like always, the maze was different than it was when I was last here. It does change every night after all. It's pretty confusing, but when you figure out the pattern, it's easy to find a way out. But don't get me wrong, it's also easy to get lost. I took turns, noting which way I was going in my head. I needed to take this slow. I haven't been in the Maze for a couple of weeks and knowing my navigating skills, I would probably forget where I was if I went to fast.

"Left, right, right, left, straight, left." I muttered to myself, as I turned around a corner. I skidded to a stop, my eyes widening at what I saw. Right in front of me was a piece of Ethan shirt. My hand flew to my mouth and tears came to my eyes. It was torn to shreds, which could only mean one thing. Ethan was taken by the grievers. I let out a shaky breath, trying my hardest not to let the tears escape my eyes. It's all my fault. One of my best friends is dead and it's all my fault. I shouldn't have hit him. He was being a shuckface but no one deserves this.

"Emma." A voice growled from behind me. My eyes widened as I slowly turned around, only to see a very injured Ethan. He was covered in blood and sweat, and his clothes were in shreds. I stepped back in surprise. It's been four days. How could he have survived that long in the maze? I could barely survive one night.

"Ethan, w-what-how—"

"Surprised? So am I. Those Grievers just don't give up." He chuckled, grinning sadistically. He took a step forward and I took another step back. It was like something slapped me in the face, as the realisation sunk in. Ethan had been stung.

"Stop. Don't come any closer." I told him, holding my hand up. He let out a sharp laugh, before glaring at me.

"Don't be scared, Em. This is your fault after all." He said, his voice strangely calm.

"Ethan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Shut up! You chose him over me!" He shouted, stalking towards me. My breath caught in my throat and it suddenly became hard to breath. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. I was legitimately frozen from fear. "And now you're as good as dead to me."

I bit my lip, so hard that I could taste blood. Move, Emma. Run. Run. Get out of the Maze.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, waiting for him to reach out towards me before quickly bolting to the left and running around him. Run, Emma. Don't stop running.

I was too scared to look behind me in fear that he was going to catch up to me. All I could think of was how in movies the girl always trips and falls when running away from the murderer. I couldn't let that happen.

"Minho! Ben! Someone help me!" I screamed, my voice echoing throughout the Maze. I could hear the heavily breathing from Ethan, meaning he wasn't too far behind me. Something must have happened when he was stung, because he usually wasn't this fast. If he was, maybe he would've been a runner rather than a builder.

I took random turns, hoping that they would either lead to the glade, or one of the boys. My breathing became hard and my legs had started to turn jelly like. It's not too far, Emma. Keep going. You can do this.

"Help!" I screamed again, praying that someone would hear me and stop the maniac behind me. No one answered. It was no use. I was probably going to die.

"You can't run forever, Emma." Ethan called, taunting me. Tears had started to roll down my face by now, and I resisted the urge to look back at him.

"I can try!" I shouted back, finally recognising my surroundings. My eyes widened as I took a right turn and ran right down the entrance to the Glade, Ethan trailing behind me.

"Help me! Someone help!" I screeched, just as I hit the green grass of my home. I watched as Gladers began rushing over to us, their eyes wide.

"Ethan, stop!" Alby shouted, a bow and arrow in his hands. A sob escaped my throat as Ethan growled behind me, before tackling me to the ground. My body hit the grass with a thud; the wind getting knocked out of me. As soon as I hit the ground, Ethan's hands wrapped around my neck tightly. I gasped loudly, trying, but failing, to get an intake of air. I clawed at his hands, my lungs tightening. He might not be as fast as me, but he was definitely a lot stronger. Most of the boys in the Glade were. My vision had started to become blurry as my hands fell to my sides. It was no use. He was killing me. I was going to die.

"I'm sorry." I choked out, tears streaming down my cheeks. Ethan's eyes flashed, turning back to their usual light colour for a moment, as if he had only a tiny ounce of humanity left in him. His grip loosened ever so slightly, before tightening again.

"No you're not." And just before I could black out, a thud sounded from above me and Ethan fell to the ground. I took a sharp intake of breath, my hands flying up to my sore throat. Someone wrapped their arms around my waist, pulling me up off the ground. I collapsed in their arms, not bothering to see who it was. Loud sobs came out of my throat as I breathed heavily, my whole body shaking.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I whimpered, repeating the words over and over again.

"It's okay, Love. He can't hurt you anymore." Newt's soft voice said, as if he was trying to reassure me. I looked up at him with blurry eyes, my bottom lip trembling.

"He's dead." I stated, not wanting to look at him, knowing that all I would find was an arrow sticking out of his forehead.

And Newt gave me no reply, which was enough of an answer for me. It was all my fault.