Liar [Maze Runner Fanfiction]

nine

"The pain of losing someone is always worse when you know you could have prevented it." - Renée Carlino, Sweet Thing

~

The next few days seemed to blur together, training, eating, sleeping, dreaming, everything seemed to fall into a dull, repetitive routine.
She couldn't get the note out of her mind.
Who was Leo? What was Group B? Who was Beth? What did Newt have to do with any of this?
She slept with the note under her pillow, as if it was a lifeline, a lifeline to her past life, to whoever was out there waiting for her to return.
She needed answers, and she needed them now.
"Alby?" she cornered the Glade leader in the breakfast line. "How can I get my memories back?"
He sighed, looking exasperated, "it's impossible," he replied in a tone that suggested that he'd answered this question thousands of times, "only way you can get your shuck memories back is getting stung. Anyone without klunk for a brain would know better. I thought you talked to Newt about this already!"
"Do people often get stung?" she pressed, ignoring his previous statement.
"No, Greenie, how much of a slinthead are you? It's shucking painful, and shucking stupid to try to get stung. It's not worth it. Don't talk to me about this again. Good that?"
"Fine," she relented. They parted ways, and Elizabeth took a seat in a secluded table right near the edge of the Deadheads.
"This seat taken?" a voice came from above her head, Elizabeth looked up, and found Ross looking down at her. She shook her head, unsure of what to say, and watched him take a seat in front of her.
"Well this is nice," he continued, "I've always wanted to do this, even since you came into the Glade."
"Thanks," she smiled, a little forcefully and crossed her legs.
"So, Lizzy," he asked, "how are you finding the Glade so far?"
Lizzy? Where did that come from?
She shrugged, "it's been nice, everyone is very helpful. Still don't know why I'm here, but things are going pretty well."
Ross nodded in understanding, "I get what you mean. Hey, why don't we get to know each other better?"
She nodded, "sure."
"How about we ask each other questions?"
She repeated her answer as before.
"Since you're still a Greenie, what job would you want?"
She thought for a second, and hesitated, "a Med-Jack sounds nice, I'd love to help people."
"You sure you don't want to work in the Gardens? Zart's a klunk Keeper, but the work isn't too heavy and we're a huge part of the Glade." His last words were prideful.
She popped a grape in her mouth, chewing as slowly as she could. The sweetness seemed like acid as she looked at Ross' smirk.
"I don't know, really, I'm thinking about it. Besides, it's not even my decision, the Keepers have to choose me."
"Yeah, I'll ask Zart to choose you."
Slightly uncomfortable with his controlling tone, Elizabeth lowered her head and fiddled with her fruit. She remembered when Ross first made a move on her, but Newt had been there.
"So have you got your eye on someone here?"
Liquid ran down her wrist, looking down, she realised that she had accidentally popped a grape in surprise.
"What?"
"Do you like anyone here?"
"T-that's a ridiculous question," she sputtered, "I'm mainly focusing on not going insane in this shuck place!"
"Yeah, right, I know you like someone," he leaned in closer, "personally, I really really like you, Lizzy. I've only known you for a few days, but I think that we've definitely have something going on. Chemistry, you could call it."
She cringed inwardly, but slapped a polite smile on her face.
"Sorry, I don't think I'm ready yet," she excused herself, "I'm going back to the Homestead."
"You can't get rid of me that easily, darling!" he called at her retreating figure.
~
"Sick. Disgusting. Go shuck yourself!" Elizabeth muttered together, fists clenched. "I thought you were nice. Now you're just a creepy shuck-ass shank!"
She wished Newt was there to put him in his place, but unfortunately, he was out running in the Maze.
She entered her bedroom, and decided to get some rest, a nap. She didn't have a job yet, so, naturally, she was planning on making good use of her free time. She heard the laughter of boys in the Glade outside, the sound of tools and work. It seemed to feel more and more like home again.
Home.
Where was her home?
She could vaguely remember a lavishly decorated mansion, a large bed covered with silk comforters. A reading room, filled with leather-bound, old-fashioned books, a white-tiled swimming pool.
But everything seemed unrealistic, like looking at interior design magazines. She couldn't visualise the people in the house, only blurry silhouettes, faces were just out of her grasp, the memories hazy and out-of-focus.
Frustrated, she closed her eyes and buried her face in her pillow. The note crinkled underneath her weight. The note. She couldn't stop thinking about the note!
'By the time you receive this I'll be in Group B's Killzone.'
Killzone.
The word was very familiar. Too familiar.
She found that she was repeating the word over and over, whispering the phrase like a prayer.
Frustrated, she forced herself to lay still, to fall asleep. Just when she was about to lose consciousness, she heard commotion outside.
Yells were heard from all directions, the sounds of quick footsteps accompanying the shouts. She could hear several objects being dropped and Alby's voice shouting for order. It seemed like the entire Glade had turned into chaos.
Elizabeth quickly put on her shoes, not bothering to tie the laces, and dashed out of the Homestead.
The Gladers were gathered around the entrance of the Maze. Two silhouettes were just outside the Doors, one Runner was slumped against the other, who was limping towards the Glade.
"He's dead!"
"He's not you slinthead!"
"He's shucking dead, can't you see all the blood?"
She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over the Gladers' heads. They were all taller than her.
"Help!" the Runner yelled, struggling under the weight of the unconscious Glader.
Minho limped out of the Maze, his black hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and blood soaked through his shirt. He was breathing hard, and when he coughed, he spat out blood. He looked completely drained, exhausted, but there was something else, something like despair that clouded his features.
"He's been stung!" he yelled hoarsely.
With a sinking feeling, she realised who he was carrying. Her heart caught in her throat, and she felt the world spin underneath her feet.
She couldn't help the scream that escaped from her throat.
There was a huge bloody gash on his forehead, which still leaked blood. His torso was bare, shirt wrapped around his lower leg. Blood coated the left side of his face and dried brick-red in his hair, but the blonde colour that showed in small sections was unmistakable.
It was Newt.
~
and now, the weather
Damn I love cliffhangers.
Warning: the events in the next chapters will be extremely fast, bloody and slightly confusing. But it'll all be cleared at the end.
Let the games begin! *blows vuvuzela*