𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 [ᴍɪɴʜᴏ]

CHAPTER THREE

[ three ].
CHAPTER THREE

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FEAR OF YOUR OWN SELF. Fear that your mind its no longer a part of what you used to be, just a shell of the person you once were. A sane rational human being, capable of thinking without questioning its own thoughts - when it becomes impossible to do so, our sanity is left behind, lost in the deepest unreachable parts of our brain.

    The lost icer's mind was spinning. The feeling of desperation took over her body like a disease, spreading quicker with each passing second.

As more time passed the more lost she felt.

     The panic that slowly installs within her was a barrier that kept her from thinking clearly. Her mind was trained to act quickly in situations like this, a skill that the girl acquired as consequence from constantly running for her life in the maze. A skill that now seemed to be lost.

    The sprinter imagined that to whoever was watching - how she didn't know - what a sight it would be. A stupid pathetic ant trapped in giant maze. An entertainment to those sick bastards no doubt. Their tormenting laughs echoed in her mind, taunting her.

    The burning hatred confined in her small body - result of the years being trapped - that she wished, to one day, be able to unleash. To cause pain to those responsible for all of her's and her friend's misery. She wanted to hear their screams, their pleas for mercy, for them to fell what she felt when it happened...

    Justice would be made by her own hands.

    Such thoughts were the only thing that kept her sane at this moment, not even her friends help her. Knowing that no matter what, she will find the Founders, kill every single one of them and only then her mind would be at ease.

    Oh, how much pleasure she will feel. Seeing their lifeless eyes staring straight into her merciless ones, still begging for something that couldn't be reversed - their lives. And that's what made it so pleasuring. Knowing that no matter what, their want for suffering would never be fulfilled. Ever.

One hour. Two hours. Maybe three. The young girl had no knowledge of how much time passed since she came across the dead-end that had - as long as she remembered - been the entry to the Spring.

At first, it had been the possibility of spending the night in the dark maze that pushed her to keep running, but at this point it was simply her thirsty for revenge and justice.

The brunette girl was pulled out of her thoughts as her eyes caught a glimpse of a figure. If she had blinked she would have probably missed it.

    She didn't think before dashing in the direction that it took.

Not wanting to break the religious routine, the girl acted before thinking. That had led her so many times to her almost death that she had lost count. But did she stopped doing it? The answer is pretty obvious.

    With her ears alert, the teenager forced herself to concentrate on the faint sound of footsteps.

    At some point, she didn't know if she was following the sound of the stranger's footsteps or the echo of her own. Either way, she kept running. That seemed to be all she did her whole life, but she knew that wasn't true, even if a majority part of her existence had been - certainly - stolen from her.