Liar [Maze Runner Fanfiction]

five

"The present changes the past. Looking back you do not find what you left behind." - Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

~

Silence.

That was all that could be heard.
Elizabeth's eyes darted around, fixing on every single Glader in the room. When they met Newt's, she saw that his eyes were wide, his lower lip trembling slightly.

"What do you mean?" Alby was the first one to snap out of the spell.

"I-I know him," she stuttered, "the moment I saw Newt, back in the box, I knew there was something familiar about him."

"What was familiar?" Alby demanded.

"How he looked," she stopped at that, not wanting to tell the Gladers about his hands. That was too embarrassing.

He turned to Newt, "have you seen her before?"

Newt hesitated, "n-no," he stuttered, "but I feel like I should." He rubbed his eyes in frustration, "it's all blocked. Every bloody thing. I try to remember, but there's just a shucking wall in front of it."

"Shuck the Creators. Shuck them for playing with us like that," Alby grumbled, "I call this Gathering over. Everybody get out."

The room was cleared quickly, Newt and Elizabeth the last ones to go. Turning to Alby, she said, "we'll try to remember as much as possible, don't worry."

The night air was crisp and fresh, and stars covered the sky.

"Doesn't it ever rain here?" she asked Newt. He shook his head, "never."

That's when she heard, a moaning, horrible sound, it seemed to be coming from the Maze. Looking at Newt with wide eyes, she was surprised at his bored expression.

"What was that?" she whispered. The moaning was terrifying; it sounded like a thousand dying men.

"Griever," he explained, "they live in the Maze. The walls keep them from coming in."
"Grievers?" Even the name sounded frightening.

"Monsters," he didn't elaborate.
"How do they look like?" Despite her fear, Elizabeth was curious. She had so many questions, and had gotten so little explanations.

"I'll show you, promise me you won't freak out."

"Promise."

He lead her to a window-like opening in the Maze wall. It was blocked by a thick slab of glass. He cleared the dust with his sleeve and peeked inside.

"Take a look." Elizabeth stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a good look. When her eyes finally focused, she almost toppled back.
The thing was absolutely repulsive.

Resembling a giant slug, it shone, slimy in the moonlight. Arms stuck out of it in random places, but they weren't arms, they were more like weapons. Smaller needles protruded from its body, clattering on the Maze floor.

"That," Newt grimly said, "is a Griever."

Heart beating fast, she stared at him with wide eyes, "what do they do?"

"They sting you, if you're lucky. Then you go through the Changing. Remember that shank Graham Alby was talking about? Well, he was stung a couple days ago."

"And what if you aren't lucky?"

"You die."

Elizabeth shivered despite the warm night. She had seen the bodies in the Deadheads, but dismissed their deaths as an accident, not an attack.

"What happens in the Changing?"

"It's the worst thing that can happen to you. You turn crazy, bloody insane. Your skin turns green and you look like a shuck corpse. I've seen it, it ain't pretty. But you do get your memories back."

"I-if you get your memories back, why don't more people get stung?"

"Bloody hell, Greenie? Do you have a death wish?" he yelped, he reached over and gripped her arm tightly, "don't ever say that. You've never seen someone go through the Changing. It's the most bloody painful thing in the entire shucked world. So you better slim it real nice, Greanbean, because this is not something to joke about."

She wrenched her arm away, relieved that his bruising grip was gone, "sorry, it was just a question, shank."

Newt seemed to calm down, "whatever, Greenie, just don't do anything rash. Don't say anything rash, for that matter. It might get you killed, or worse, Banished."

"Banished?"

"You get to spend the night with the Grievers. In short, you die out in the Maze."

"T-that's horrible! Why would you do this to anyone?"

"Order, Greenie, we need to keep order."
Order. There it was again. The Glade's precious order. So fragile, as if it would be shattered by a few people. So weak, that they needed to kill people in order to keep it. It was so cruel, it was all so cruel, so unfair.
"I hate this place," she snapped, glaring at the Maze walls.

"Who doesn't?" Newt rolled his eyes, "there's no point, maybe we should all just keel over and die already."

"Don't say that!" Elizabeth scolded, "there's got to be a way out. Have you guys tried coming down the box?"

Newt let out a dry, humorless laugh, "yes, the poor shuck who volunteered got cut in half. His body is in the Deadheads to remind us not to be stupid."

"How about the Maze? Doesn't it ever end?" Elizabeth wrung her hands desperately.

"No," he let out a small snort, "it changes every day, repeats itself. Always the same bloody pattern. We're sick of it."

"'We're?'" Elizabeth quoted, "you mean the Runners?"

"Yeah, I'm part-time. Since I'm second-in-command, I have to supervise the Glade, but some days I get to get out in the Maze."

"What if the pattern is trying to tell us something?"

"Nothing. The patterns are just a load of klunk. Maybe the Creators are too lazy to design a new Maze each time, so they just repeat it."

"Who are the Creators?" Elizabeth decided that she liked Newt, a lot. He was willing to answer all her questions. He was also ridiculously good-looking, but never in a million years would she admit that.

"The Creators are the shanks that put us here. They spy on us with beetle-blades, you know, those bloody silver bugs you see everywhere."

Newt checked his watch.

"It's time to go to sleep, Greenie, you've got training tomorrow."

They made their way to the Homestead, Elizabeth wishing they had more time to talk.

He bid her goodnight, and they went to their separate rooms.

After changing into comfortable clothing, she ran a hand through her tangled hair, making a mental note to ask Newt for a hairbrush the next day.

She threw herself on the bed, sinking into the soft mattress, her overworked brain finally relaxing. Moments after touching the pillow, she drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Everything seemed okay, it was going to be fine. She would just have to accept it, and be able to get on with her life perfectly well.

Until the screaming started.

~

and now, the weather

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Not very eventful, but a lot of things get explained.

Also, Newt doesn't have his limp yet, which means he's a Runner. You know, because he hasn't... Well... You know what.

I'm gonna leave before you start yelling at me.