TMR - Thomas x X-reader fanfiction

Chapter Seven

Y/N's POV | Vision

The cold, damp air clung to me as I opened my eyes. Darkness stretched endlessly around me, broken only by a faint, flickering light in the distance.

I was back. I sighed at the thought.

The realization sent a chill through me, but I pushed forward, my footsteps cautious and silent. The maze twisted and turned ahead, the walls looming higher with every step.

What is this place?

The voice stopped me in my tracks. It wasn't far, sharp and agitated, cutting through the eerie silence. 

I crept forward, the sound of my heartbeat loud in my ears. Turning a corner, I spotted two figures standing beneath the faint glow of a flickering lamp.

"What do you mean she was here?" one of them snapped.

I froze, my eyes narrowing.

The speaker was unfamiliar to me—a tall, wiry man with sharp features. His voice carried an edge of disbelief as he addressed the second man.

"It's impossible. She doesn't have access to this sector. It's a hidden part of the maze for WICKED only."

The second man—thinner, with a rat-like face—looked equally agitated. His lips curled into a sneer as he crossed his arms.

"I know what I saw, Randall," he spat. "And I thought I made it clear. This isn't supposed to happen."

Randall hesitated, glancing down at the ground. "But Janson..."

"Enough!" the rat-man snapped, his voice slicing through the tension.

My breath caught in my throat. Janson.

I edged closer, straining to hear more, but as I shifted my weight, my foot dislodged a small rock.

The sound was deafening in the stillness.

Both men turned sharply in my direction, their eyes narrowing.

I ducked back around the corner, my back pressed against the cold stone as I held my breath. My heart pounded in my chest, and sweat beaded on my forehead.

The voices stopped.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The oppressive silence grew heavier, suffocating.

I dared a glance around the corner, but the men were gone.

Relief flooded through me, and I exhaled shakily.

I turned to leave—and froze.

Janson's face loomed inches from mine, his sharp features twisted into a cruel grin.

"I told you so," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

Before I could react, his hand shot out, gripping my arm like a vice.

"Let go of me!" I struggled, but his grip only tightened as he shoved me toward Randall.

"Take care of her," Janson ordered coldly. "And you'd better make sure to do it properly this time."

Randall caught me roughly, his fingers digging into my arm. His grin widened, sickeningly smug.

"Looks like it's just you and me now," he said, his laughter echoing through the corridor as Janson disappeared into the shadows.

Thomas' POV

"We should go back to her," I said, pacing near the cave's entrance. "I don't like leaving her alone."

"You're probably right," Minho replied, his tone unusually serious.

We stepped into the cave, but my heart dropped the moment I saw it.

She was gone.

"She's gone!" I shouted, my voice cracking with panic.

"What?" Minho said, his brow furrowing. "How? We've been out front the whole time. Where could she have gone?"

"She can't have gone far," Newt added, his tone calm but tense.

I sank to the ground, my hands gripping my hair. "We... we just wait here," I stammered. "She might come back."

Newt crouched beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder. "We'll find her, Tommy. I promise."

Minho knelt in front of me, his voice steady. "Y/N's strong. Remember, she faced a griever and lived to tell the tale. She's clever. She'll find her way back."

Despite their reassurances, dread gnawed at my insides.

Y/N's POV

Randall dragged me down the dark corridors, his grip like iron, bruising and unrelenting. The walls seemed to close in, the faint hum of machines vibrating through the air.

"In here," he barked, shoving me forward without warning.

I stumbled into the room, my shoulder slamming against the cold stone wall. The space was dark, the only light coming from faint, glowing lines etched into the walls.

"What is this place?" I asked, my voice steady despite the knot forming in my chest.

Normally, my entire body would be trembling. My legs would have given out beneath me. But here, in this room, I felt an unnatural calm settle over me. I was calm. Too calm.

I glanced around, my breath catching as recognition hit me like a wave.

I knew this place.

I had been here before.

Randall laughed, the sound low and unsettling. "I see it in your face," he sneered. "You remember, don't you?"

"Yes," I said firmly, meeting his gaze.

"Good," he muttered, his grin fading into a snarl.

Before I could move, his hand shot out, grabbing my arm with bruising force. Without a word, he dragged me toward a metal chair bolted to the floor beneath a harsh overhead light.

"Sit," he barked.

When I didn't move fast enough, he shoved me down into the chair with such force that the back of my head knocked against the cold metal. I hissed in pain, but he didn't care. Randall leaned over me, his hand pressing down on my shoulder to keep me in place. "You're not going anywhere," he growled, his face inches from mine.

"What are you planning to do with me?" I demanded, glaring up at him. My voice, though steady, felt detached—like it wasn't truly mine.

He ignored me, moving to a set of machines lining the wall. The hum of electricity filled the room, the glow of the equipment casting eerie shadows across his face.

"A thing I haven't done in a long time," he said finally, his tone almost gleeful. "The last time was when that little shit refused to accept his new role."

He picked up a tool from the table, its metallic tip sparking faintly.

"But don't you worry," he continued, stepping closer. "I'll make sure you understand yours perfectly."

"What role?" I demanded, my voice rising despite the pressure in my chest.

Randall's expression darkened. "You remember Stephen don't you?" he said, his tone almost reverent. "You see, a decade ago, that shit refused to listen. But I made him see the truth. And now, it's your turn." He loomed over me, the glowing tool buzzing ominously in his hand.

"This might hurt," he said with a twisted smile, excitement laced in his voice, before raising the device toward me.

The light above flickered as the sound of the machine grew louder, and for the first time, the calmness inside me began to crack.