The Implant Variable

Mistrust

            "You know damn well who I am." Rachel seethed her words, eyes flicking back and forth between the two very convincing-looking teenage boys in front of her. WCKD really would go to the lengths of anything to break her, it seemed.

Jerking her arm more straight to shove her small weapon further towards their direction, the girl's breaths were still thick as they spilled out from between her lips. "Why did you do this? Why did you kill me- or pretend to kill me- and then throw me back into the finching Maze?!"

Her voice was raw, cracking on the last word as she clenched her teeth once more. Thomas's eyebrows knit downward towards the center in perplexion, he and Minho sharing a glance between them to confirm they were both really hearing the same thing. He took a small step towards the terrified girl, his hands half up as if to show that he wasn't trying to hurt her. "Look, we don't-"

"Answer the question!!" Rachel snapped, raising her voice as she pointed the dagger at Thomas, clutching it with both hands in front of her now. Her whole body posture then suddenly softened, her elbows relaxing slightly and posing not as imminent of a threat while her eyes watered and the girl began to shake. Her voice came out unsteadily, wavering as she spoke much softer than before. "...Why? Why did you do this?"

Thomas swallowed heavily, the question feeling personal after everything that everyone had been accusing of him of: being the one at fault for all of them to be sent here in the first place. He stumbled backwards a little, the words hitting home, stunned to silence.

Luckily for him, Minho spoke up, so he didn't have to. "What the hell are you talking about? We didn't do a shucking thing to you." He stepped forward brazenly, crossing his arms over his chest harness now. Rachel suddenly had her energy back, and jolted as if Minho were a jumpscare. She widened her stance and gripped the knife in his direction now, as he had become the new threat.

"Don't lie to me!" She demanded, but Minho was clearly unafraid, convinced that her weapon being held out was a bluff. But she was scared, she was oh-so-scared, and convinced these two men were nothing but WCKD's newest fun way to confuse and torture her. "I know who you are! You're not fooling me! I know you're with WCKD!"

Once he heard her desperate words, Thomas finally chimed into the conversation, his mental gears spinning at a mile a minute as he tried to process what she'd just said. "WCKD," he muttered, placing a hand on Minho's shoulder to cut off the Runner's undoubtedly snippy comeback before it even began. WCKD is good, he recalled hearing that woman say in his sleep, further convincing him that those perhaps weren't exactly dreams, but poorly recovered memories. "W-C-K-D, yeah?" The greenbean spelled it out as he spoke, curious as to what the supplies, the creators, and this girl now all had to do with each other. She, however, seemed to know something they didn't, as his innocent question only angered her further.

"Don't play stupid!" Rachel yelled, growing tired of their mind games. "Who are you? What do you want with me? Why am I here?"

Minho groaned, sick of being bossed around by some random girl who just suddenly appeared in the Maze. HIS Maze. His domain. He was the Keeper of the Runners, knew this damn labyrinth like the back of his hand, and wasn't willing to be told what to do in it any longer.

"You listen up, slinthead. We could sit here and yell at each other over whatever the hell you think we are all night, but I'm personally not really looking for another Griever-Party so soon. So you're going to listen to me, or you're going to spend the night out here and I won't even be sorry. Understand?" His cheeks were pink in anger and frustration, Minho wanting nothing more than to get back to the Glade and catch up with the others on just what that device was that he pulled out of the monster.