Twilight In The Maze

-Rose-

As we entered the maze, I couldn't help to keep a chill from travelling up my spine. What if we never made it? At least I was with everyone that I had ever loved: Thomas. At least I was with the only friends that I had ever known:Newt and Teresa. Death seemed like such a fine thing as we took out first few steps into the damp, dark maze.
We began to turn our walk into a slight jog, so as to get out faster. Eventually, the jog turned into a run, a sprint. At this rate, we would be out by what was meant to be midday - obviously we couldn't tell the time due to the problem with the sun and moon. Twilight was a hard thing to get over. Shadows were long and at some points, nonexistent. Thomas and Teresa soon caught up with me and Newt and so, we slowed our pace so that we could stay in tow with them. Safety, around these parts, came in numbers.
"Are we nearly there Minho? I don't think that all of us can keep up this pace for much longer." Newt glanced towards Chuck, nervously. Chuck was beetroot red and slowing at an immense pace, he was tiring very easily.
"Almost. Five more minutes max." He looked back towards us and jerked his head for us to enter a temple like room. The walls stood tall and menacing, enshrouded in darkness. Shadows loomed overhead as the dying sun took its last breaths. Then there was nothing - light ceased to exist. Except for a panel of symbols. My guesses were, that they were letters meant for a password. 
I was right. Minho began to type frantically. He slammed his finger down on 'Enter' and a gargantuan door flung open.
In my imagination, that was what happened. Reality was much, much worse.
Grievers. Their legs were larger than you could image as metallic teeth grinded against one another as they cautiously made their way towards where we were all gathered. Backing away from the monstrous beasts, my foot landed on a rock and my ankle twisted around, agonisingly.
I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and Newt flicked a glance in my direction. Walking backwards once again, my ankle gave way and I fell flat onto my bum.
A griever saw me struggle and caught eye contact with me. I had one weapon. A pocket knife made its way to my hand and I held it up to defend myself. My arm shook so bad that, when the robotic spider flicked its fangs in my direction, I knew that the knife would be useless and it clattered to the ground. I was going to die...