Mysteries (Completed)

Practices

YOUR POV:

"How are you feeling? Tired or refreshed?"

"Refreshed, yes. That's my answer."

I dash through a corridor next to a wall, trying to slash away some ivy from the wall. I nick my finger a few times, but I soon get the hang of it.

Minho tracks behind me, admiring my work and abilities with a smirk of approval. He likes my skills, that's for sure.

It feels like I was born to do this. To use my legs and run through a maze. Not what I had in mind, but it's fine.

I love the feeling of running. The wind, whipping at my soft brown hair and dirty clothes with anticipation. My grey-blue eyes squinting slightly, looking around, studying the walls and memorizing them all, every single one of them.

I love this job. It keeps me busy and entertained, and I get to run with a friend sometimes. This is the life, this is the job that I want. I'm not going down without a fight to get it.

Minho suddenly runs in front of me and comes to an abrupt stop. I slam into his back, which sends him sprawling to the concrete floor. He grunts and gets back up, only to go wide-eyed.

"What?" I whisper, slowly inching toward his startled figure. "What is it?"

At the last second he turns to me and says in a hushed voice, "I found you." With curiosity eating away at me, I step next to him and see what he is gazing at.

My jaw drops and I gasp. A little metal creature, it looks like a lizard, comes close to me and flashes a red light at me. On its back reads W.I.C.K.E.D. The thing scans me then quickly scurries away, under a thick patch of ivy.

"What the actual fuck was that... that thing?" I ask in bewilderment.

Minho retracts back. "I totally forgot you didn't know want that was. Aw, that joke would've been so good if you knew!" I slap his bicep.

"Ow! Okay okay, that was a beetle blade. Those little suckers watch every move we do. We are pretty sure its the creators."

I look at Minho. "I thought that they actually looked kinda cute, so jokes on you slinthead."

+

Minho and I make sure to get to the Glade exactly thirty minutes before the doors close. We wanted to make sure that the greenie, me, wouldn't die.

Minho and I travel to the Map Room and map out the section we went in today, which was seven. I jotted down what I saw and walked out with Minho.

Instead of him being sweaty, we were now both sweaty. Minho suddenly started running to the kitchen, yelling over his shoulder, "Race ya!"

I scanned the area as I was dashing after the eager runner. Gladers mill around, getting in the lunch line. I catch up fairly quick and leap onto Minho's back. My arms wrap around his neck as he stumbles before laughing along with me and grips my legs and jumps, pushing me further onto him so it's more comfortable for the both us.

I laugh even harder as the boy picks up his speed and starts to take a sharp turn. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Newt staring at the scene. Not staring, glaring.

What is his problem?

I whip my attention back to Minho, who starts stumbling by how sharp he took the turn to nowhere. His left foot slips from under him.

We both tumble into the grass. I fly off of his back and go airborne to the side. I land roughly on my side, probably bruising my arm. I spit out grass and breathe shakily. A second later Minho is kneeling at my side, helping me sit up with a gentle hand on my back and a soft voice.