WICKED'S PAWN

Chapter 8

Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I ran. I ran with adrenaline as the only thing pumping through my veins. I ran through the dark corridors of the Maze. I ran. I stopped. I killed the Griever with my telekinesis. Run. Kill. Repeat. I did this about 3 times already. I was tiring, I knew it. I was sweating heavily. I was tired. My legs ached. I ran back towards the Glade entrance. Why were all the Grivers coming towards me? I don't care anymore.
Run. Kill. Repeat as needed. Another one dead. Then I stopped. I saw this new corridor, probably the one I discovered that day. And it was, the familiar ringing was clearly audible. More pain shot through my mind. Deciding I couldn't take much more, I turned around and ran. My feet. My head. My lungs. My body. My stomach grumbling. My everything. Shuck it, I thought to myself. My stomach replied with a, pizzzaaa! Groaning, I saw a long enough corridor, close to the Glade and had no Grievers in sight. Perfect. Or so I thought.
I walked. I thought I was safe. But I wasn't. An eerie silence was over the corridor. Creepy. And some cake, my stomach replied. Shut up. Then I saw it. Right in front of me. The ugliest Griever in the Maze. I turned around and ran. I heard it. It was right on my tail. Then I felt it. Pain shot through my arm. It poked me! Not stung. Cut. What the hell is its problem? I thought Grievers stung people. Maybe it was out of its killing venom. Whatever. I turned around and killed it. It exploded in front of me.
I saw the ivy next to me and tried to climb it. Maybe I won't get hurt anymore. WRONG! I should've told myself. But anyways. I huffed between climbing. Blood oozing out of my wound like a waterfall. Stupid. Then as if a Griever were a blood thirsty, blood smelling vampire, I wouldn't be surprised if it were, came out of nowhere and cut me in my leg, as in a 'I-just-embedded-a-sharp-metal-thing-in-your-leg-cuz-I'm-a-monster' kind of piercing. I screamed a blood curdling scream, as it pulled its rod out of me, and as I made it explode with my mind. I lost a grip on the ivy as I did so and I fell down with a loud thump. I felt the blood oozing out of me. Well, it was fun while it lasted. I felt myself falling into a dark abyss. Blackness clouding my vision, I closed my eyes. But I knew I couldn't. I would start bleeding out and then probably die. So I started getting up, groaning as I did so. Slowly I was on all fours, panting and bleeding. I rolled over and leaned against a wall. I then proceeded to rip out parts of my shirt to tie around my wounds, wincing as I did so. I knew I couldn't run, much less stand. So I hoped. I hoped that the Creators would spare me today. I hoped that the Grievers couldn't smell blood. I hoped that the night would pass by.

I just sat there. I sat there as if I was a statue, with no emotion. I could see the sky turning orange. I could see the sun rising. I could hear the Doors opening. I could hear the groans of the Gladers. I could feel the pain inside of me as I slowly walked. Leaning on the walls for help, I slowly made my way towards the Glade. I saw the Glade entrance. I saw Newt and Chuck's happy expressions as I made my way towards them. I could feel the ground as I fell. I could feel Thomas's arms lifting me up and taking me to the Glade. I could feel his heavy breathing. I felt nothing. I felt the bed. I felt myself sitting up. But I felt nothing. No emotions. Emotionless. Did that Griever sting me with something?

I saw Newt walk in with Chuck in tow. I asked him if he could get me some water. He did, without asking me how I'm alive. I felt grateful for that. Chuck and I were sitting alone in the Med-Jack hut. I showed him my telekinesis. He was astonished. I told him how I killed the Grievers. I swear I could see that his eyes filled with hope. Hope. I should pay hope a visit and beat it senseless till it gives me some for once.

I ate lunch with Thomas, Newt and Chuck. I had this weird one hand crutch. It had a strap on it and I could lean on it. It was like a walking-crutch. I didn't laugh. I just poked at my food. I don't know why. Was I traumatised? Was I out of it? After eating, I saw Minho. He looked angry. Furious. He seemed to be waiting for me. I had a blank expression and walked over to him. 'What the shuck were you thinking shuckface! You almost got killed! Or stung! You are so stupid! How could you be!' 'Well forgive me for saving your life! I'm sorry to have saved you!' I replied angrily. 'Well it was all your fault! Running so shucking slowly! Slinthead' 'Excuse me! You were the one who's a freak!' 'You are an asshole. Take that back otherwise your face won't be the only thing I will break!' 'A threat! Is that a threat? You are gonna go into the slammer!' By now a crowd had surrounded us. Alby was there watching. I replied, 'Well listen up asshole, I don't take orders from ungrateful bitches like you. If I hadn't saved you, you would've been a Grievers dinner.' His face was red and he staggered back. I smirked and flipped him while walking towards the Deadheads, to cool off.

I climbed a tree, with my walking brace attached. It hurt, but not as much as what Minho said. I didn't want to listen to the MP3. I just want to be alone. I heard some rustling, probably Thomas looking for me.

[HI! To everyone reading this, thank you it means a lot that you are reading my fanfic. So I hope you enjoyed todays update!]