Error | The Maze Runner / Newt ² ✓

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Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but if I did, I would make a spinoff book containing information about Newt and Minho's families, and if Alby really did have a sister, and what happened to everyone in Paradise because let's be real we all need this.

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"Get up."

My entire body ached as I laid on the mat, my chest heaving with ragged breaths and my heart pounding. I closed my eyes as fire trickled through my veins and fried up my insides. My cheek throbbed painfully from where I had just been hit.

A forceful kick was bestowed on my side, causing me to grunt at the stabbing pain that blossomed from the spot. My attacker crouched above me with his hands on his knees as he watched me under a heavy stare. "I said, get up!"

Weakly, with my arms shaking from exhaustion, I pushed myself up from the mat-covered floor and managed to get to my knees. I was moving too slowly for his liking- I had been training with him long enough for me to anticipate the punch that was headed my way. I turned, caught his fist, and twisted his arm without mercy. If he was going to play unkindly, then so was I.

A smile appeared on Brent's face. "Clever." Then, before we could resume fighting, something clicked in his brown eyes. His head swiveled to find my partner, who had been absent from our duel for too long.

A gasp fell from his lips as his chest jutted out and the air was briefly knocked from his lungs. I released his fist and dove to the side just as he fell forward where I had previously been standing. There, behind him, stood my partner, Sonya. Uneven breaths fell from her split lips as she glared at Brent with anger in her bright green eyes. Her long blonde hair was falling out of its hastily-done ponytail, and sweat pooled around the collar of her grey shirt like a necklace. She was tall and lean, basically everything I wasn't, and one of my acquaintances. She was supposed to be in the second group, Group B. Our interactions with those from opposite groups were supposed to be as limited as possible, but Ava wanted Sonya and I to endure training in order to "shape us up" for what was to come.

Unfortunately, that meant spending two hours every Tuesday and Wednesday with Brent Arson. We both hated him. He was mean and showed no mercy when fighting two fifteen-year-old girls. In the beginning, he had not started off easily when teaching us how to punch and had made us hit things until we sported ugly bruises on our knuckles. Now we sported them on our faces, arms, and anywhere else he managed to hurt us. Sonya often left with a black eye.

It was no question as to why Ava chose Brent. He was easily the most well-trained guard in the entire facility, despite how ruthless he tended to be. Brent was one of those guys who had huge biceps and a tiny waist, making for awkward proportions that made him appear like some cartoon character. His dark skin was covered with tattoos that I couldn't even make out. His hair was closely cropped to his head and there was a slight gap between his otherwise perfect teeth.

Brent took that moment of hesitation to swipe his legs under Sonya in order to knock her off of her feet, but she jumped over them and landed on directly his ankle, waving her arms around as she attempted to regain her balance. Brent gave a sharp cry of pain as a sickening crunch sounded throughout the room. Sonya, who had screwed up her face in anticipation as she landed, popped one eye open and quickly removed her foot from his ankle.

Brent sat up and clutched at his foot, gritting his teeth in pain as short pants came out of his nose. Sonya was internally freaking out. Her eyes were now the size of small planets as she watched him with her mouth agape. Neither of us knew what to do. Did we console him? Apologize profusely? Hope he didn't kill us?