Run (Newt x OC)

Chapter Six

Sense surged back into Helen's mind and she slowly felt life return to her. She thought she might as we lie there and pretend to sleep, because the minute she opens her eyes is the minute she'll face death

So she just laid there, keeping her eyes closed and her breathing even. She was definitely not in the Glade, because the atmosphere changed from being spring sunny to a dead foggy mixture.

Just like when she first woke up arriving in the Glade, memories flowed into her head. She remembered a beaten up Ben begging for his life, and then he spotted Helen and... Knocked her out unconscious? So where was she? Where could Ben possibly taken her? Oh no...

Helen caught her breath, but a short hitch escaped. She knew exactly where she was, and quite guiltily she hoped the Grievers got to Ben already...

"You can stop pretending," a voice said, disturbing the eerie silence, "I know you're awake."

Helen forced herself to open her eyes, and every atom told her to run, but she couldn't, because Ben suddenly leaped up and was on top of Helen.

Helen tried to squirm away, but Ben was straddling her and his knees were digging into Helen's arm. Ben looked scared, but there was no denying his determination to kill.

"Ben what are you doing?" Helen asked, trying to breath evenly.

"You're dangerous." Ben muttered, "You have to die."

"Ben what are you talking about?" Helen asked. She tried so hard to not freak out.

"They said you are dangerous. You're not supposed to be here." Ben said, like he was memorizing text from a book, "You're dangerous. You're not supposed to be here. You must die by order of WICKED."

Then Ben pulled out a jagged piece of rock and held it sideways towards Helen's throat. The zigzag sharp side dug into Helen's thin skin, and Ben was crushing the air out of her.

"B-Ben, s-s-sto-" Helen sputtered.

"You must die by order of WICKED. You must die by order of WICKED. You must for by order of WICKED." Ben muttered over and over again. It seemed like he was burdened with so much pain, that he was forced to say this.

"B-Ben listen to yourself." Helen pleaded, the rock digging more into her throat until she felt a bead of blood form on her throat.

Ben kept muttering and dug the knife deeper. Helen didn't want to hurt Ben but she had no choice. She raised her leg so she kneed him in a place that no boy should be kneed in, and when Ben was wincing in pain, the rock was away from her throat, so she willed herself to head-butt Ben, and Ben lost his balance and toppled off of Helen. Helen had a small figure, so she slid away from Ben and backed away. Her head hurt from hitting Ben, and every part of her urged for her to run away, but she can't help but stare at Ben. He looked like he was torturer by voices inside his head, and his tattered clothes and pained expression made Helen pity him.

If he was going to die, hopefully he'll die swiftly and without struggle.

Helen wanted to help him, not kill him, but she sensed that dusk was near and the Grievers would roams out soon; they were going to be dead.

"Ben you can still live." Helen spoke up, still keeping a distance from Ben in case he attacks.

"Don't you get it? No one survives in the Maze for a night. They all die." Ben severely said, "But if I'm going to die, I wanna die knowing you die too."

"But why Ben?" Helen asked, trying to reason with him, "Why do what WICKED says? Don't you despise them for what they did to you?"

"I hate them, but they made me feel like killing you, which is justice to them, is satisfying to me." Ben said with malice, "All day I've been daydreaming about the million ways you can die. It's all I can focus on now."

Okay then, he's gone insane, Helen thought.

"Then don't kill me," Helen said, working out a plan, "if you're so sure no one survives here during the night, then just wait until the Grievers get to me."

"No," Ben said, "I have to be the one that kills you. It's the only way."

He picked up the piece of rock again and lunged. Helen was faster and rolled to the side and stood up. She ran, as fast as she can. Ben was close on her trail, but Helen kept going.

Running a race and running for your life is two different things. Running a race is just sport, and you might feel tired and out of breathe. Running for your life rules out everything. Tiredness doesn't occur to you, and your legs are moving automatically.

Oh, Helen was running for her freaking life.

She would often veer to turn and try to lose Ben, but he always found her. Helen's heart was racing and her eyes darted about, but knowing there's no exit.

It's hard to think straight while running for your life, but Helen tried to take in her surroundings. It's all just giant walls! But no... There's vines growing on the colossal grey walls like veins. It could be the perfect disguise...

Helen willed herself to sprint faster, and turned sharply then jumped inside a crump of vines. The leaves and tendrils pricked at her skin, and Helen tried to slow down her breathing so it's not so loud and prayed that her heart would stop beating so loudly.

She tried to squeeze in further so her back was completely against the cool granite wall, and she tried to place more vines in from of her. Her vision was blocked, but she peeked through some petite gaps to see if danger was lurking near.

Helen hoped this wasn't like a horror movie full of jump scares. Surely Ben isn't in the corner, waiting to jump out at her.

Minutes past like water slowly dripping from a parapet of a roof, and so far no sign of Ben. Helen was afraid of stepping out, and found hiding in the thickets of vines made her feel a tad bit secure. For now.

She tried to make herself comfortable by sliding down to sit with her knees up. She was tired, but she willed herself to not fall asleep, for it was almost nightfall and then that's when the Grievers come out...

So she sat there, waiting in the inevitable silence for something to happen. Her mind wandered off to occupy itself with something that made Helen relax. Her mind wandered off to how it felt when Newt's lips crashed with hers. How he tasted, and how good it felt when his fingers traced your skin. Helen longed to grasp Newt's soft hair again, and stay there in his warm embrace. It made Helen's insides bubble, in a good way of course.

Helen dwelled on the thought, and hugged her knees closer to her body. It was beginning to be chilly, and Helen was only in her jeans and... Newt's shirt.

Even though it was loose and ripped and dirty, it kept Helen's spirits warm. She hugged the shirt tighter around her torso, and clutched the fabric. Her knuckles felt frozen, indicating it was definitely night now.

Helen's insides tightened in fear as an ear splitting screech pierced the chilling air. It was Ben. And he was dead.

Helen drooped her head down, and clenches the fabric tighter. Sure, Ben had just tried to kill her, but he didn't deserve to die. He was clueless, just like the rest of us, but now WICKED was tormenting him to the maximum, and that was something she couldn't blame him for.

Helen knows it was now night, and she debated on whether to come out of her hiding spot or remain there. If she remained there, maybe she'll camouflage herself from the Grievers, but what if that didn't work? Wouldn't running seem like a better choice?

Helen told herself there will be dozens or Grievers at every corner, and running would be suicide. So she remained there, but told herself to be extra cautious.

She stayed there for hours, until tiredness wore her over. Her eyes felt heavy and she was on the brink of sleep. It started to get strangely boring, even though she knew danger was here. She could not fall asleep, she can't, she won't... She won't...

If it wasn't for the monstrous roar that snarled beside Helen's ear, she might've fallen asleep.