Aphonic {TMR;Newt}

[22%]

Eventually, the rain passed, and the first thing everyone did was make their way toward doors. Penning around the entrance, we stood in worriment, fidgeting on our toes. No one was speaking, not so much a whisper. I stood in the middle of Newt and Thomas, Chuck standing to the left of him. I wasn't sure how far prayers work in a place like this, but I was praying.

A familiar mechanical click echoed.

"C'mon guys can't we send someone after them?" Thomas pleaded, impatiently shifting on his feet.

"It's against the rules." I looked down. Gally's eyes were penetrating the empty hall as he knelt in front of the slab of concrete serving as the Maze's floors. "They either make it back or they don't."

"We can't risk losing anyone else," Newt spoke gently, rubbing tenderly the side of his crossed arms.

I let out a soft huff, fiddling with the thick weaved jean pockets of my overalls. Everyone was fearful for the worst. So was I.

The corridor moaned, a strong gush of stale wind fanning against my cheeks. It smelled of aged iron and dry dirt. Almost familiar with the smell of a dried up, withered out garden. It contrasted to the Glade's rich farm scent. It was familiar to me. The same smell when I woke up. Whipping at our hair and clothes, the doors started to close.

"Oh no," Chuck muttered, his big brown frightened eyes looking between the stone slabs.

I looked back down the murky passage between the enclosing walls, begging. If praying did nothing, begging had to do something. I begged to see them. To catch a glimpse of swooped up onyx hair. To catch a glimpse of a hulky, dark-skinned figure. And I did.

"There!" Thomas pointed. They had just rounded the corner.

"Wait no, something's wrong." Newt panicked.

Minho was thankfully on his feet. Alby wasn't. His body was limp like a rag-doll, arm slung over Minho's shoulders as he pulled him down the passage. His painful grunts and determined cries met my ear, an uncanny shock shivering up my spine.

"Come on Minho you can do it!" Chuck commenced the uproar of desperate cheers, ushering Minho to run faster. Everyone waved their arms frantically, screaming at the peak of they're lungs. All I could do was watch. I couldn't call out, I couldn't scream for him to run.

The only thing I could do was watch.

"Come on!" Alby was too heavy for him, and Minho had to lay him down to physically drag him across the rudimentary floor, flawed with vines, roots, and stones.

"Minho you got to leave him!" It was an option, yes, and I wouldn't blame Minho if he did. But I wondered if Minho had help, could he make it? No one was running out to help. Everyone was too scared to, or simply abides by the rules.

"They're not gonna make it." I bit my tongue at Newt's reversed words.

I guess that's the perk of being the only girl in a Glade full of rules for boys.

They don't apply to me, right?

Besides, that place isn't anything new to me.

"Prim!" I felt Newt's hand grate against my back as I pushed myself forward, running through the few foot gap between the closing wall.

It was like an entirely new dimension once you passed through the doors. No sun reached here, despite being a drop of sunlight left in the Glade. Even though you could see the sky, it wasn't the same one hanging over the Glade. It was empty. This place leaked harrowing dire from its walls. They spoke something to me when I noticed what situation I just placed myself in.