MARTYR (A Maze Runner Fan-Fic by Natalia M.)

Chapter 5

A few seconds passed before she answered him.

"I'm Jean and... I don't.. I don't know. There's too much in my head right now."

He sighed and ran his hand through his matted hair.

"Yeah. Okay."

He seemed frustrated, his features were twisted in a light scowl. It's safe to say she was slightly intimidated. She could feel herself shrink back more and more. She had so many questions to ask but the fear made her bite her tongue.

She released a breath she didn't know she had been holding and asked, "What was it?"

Her voice came out as a mere croak, it sounded strained and empty. He looked at her confused, the scowl had lightened a bit as he looked at her.

"What was what?"

"The thing. With the spikes and.. Yeah."

"Oh. That. We call them Grievers."

"Grievers?"

The word tasted sour in her mouth. Yet it seemed to roll off so easily off his tongue. She wondered how he could talk about it so casually. The mere thought of it sent shivers down her spine and the familiar feeling of sharp metal rods piercing her stomach returned.

She lifted up her shirt to find a carefully patched wound on her side. The purple bruise was still peaking from the bandages. She whimpered when she saw it.

"Brutal. Ain't it?" He said as he scanned the wound himself, "You're pretty lucky. Any later and I would've found you dead out there."

The question slipped out before she could think about it.

"What's your name?"

"Minho." He replied.

She nodded as she ran her finger lightly over the bandage and frowned "Thank you."

He shrugged the words off and stood up. As he walked to the door he said, "Welcome to the Glade, Greenie. Tour is tomorrow. Try not to get yourself killed this time. Good that?"

~•~

The rest of the evening was Jean trying to unmask the secrets of the Glade from what her 'dream' had told her. The rest of the evening was Jean questioning her will of survival in the maze.

If the 'Griever' were to crash through the door. How would she make it? A measly pile of sticks could only protect so much. And for how long? What else was out there? And it sounded like only the beginning. It seemed like it'd only get worse, should they break out of the giant prison walls.

What the woman had said... The flare. What was it? The answer was right there yet she couldn't pin point it.

A hurricane of emotions swirled around her brain, numbing every other sense. Soon she had isolated herself from the outside world, leaving herself with unanswered questions and theories to keep her company.

She wondered if she should tell them about how they were being used as lab rats for some crazy experiment. What difference would it make? Would it hinder their progress, if any was made at all? Would she live long enough to get the confidence to speak up?

Come to think of it, how long had the boy been stuck in here? He seemed so accustomed to how things worked here. Jean thought it was sad. Did he go living here knowing there's a chance he might not live to see tomorrow? Did he accept that fate? And there were more boys beyond that door probably with the same weight on their shoulders.
Hours later, Jean fell asleep hanging on to one resolution.

I want to survive.