ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ

Bad Dream

[Y/N's P.O.V]

Sweat beaded on my forehead, limbs numb as Chuck clutched onto my hand, bow gripped in the other. Breath shaky, my lungs burned for more oxygen yet I carried on. We couldn't give up now, we were so close. Crossing another corner, my heart beat uncontrollably. Whether it was from the running or the fact we were finally escaping, leaving this horrid place, I wasn't so sure. The pack of teenagers halted, Thomas grabbing our attention. The silence was deafening, the only sound audible was heavy breaths. I knew there were grievers beyond that wall, waiting to pounce on us.

"We get out now...", Thomas held his spear in the air, "... or we die trying".

Slamming it firmly on the ground, he spun on his heel, leading us. The gladers charged, battle cries echoing the stone. Releasing Chucks hand, I held up my bow up, arrows loaded. Pulling the string back, I shot at the monsters, their howls swirling my skull. Theresa ran forwards with Chuck, the key safely with them. Screams of fallen gladers riddled my skin with goosebumps. At least they died trying.

Clicks and whirs came from the metal door that trapped us, Minho shouting the code. From above him, a griever was falling down. Providing quick actions, I grabbed a lone spear, dashing over. Thrusting upwards, I impaled the creature, killing it instantly. Thomas helped me shove it over the edge, leaving our friend unharmed. Showing us a thankful nod, Minho gave Theresa the last number of the sequence.

Splitting apart, the door allowed us entry. Piling inside, we were plunged into darkness. Squeaking, a white light poured over us, everyone stepping into a lone hallway. Walking down it, a green sign flickered above a door, saying 'exit'.

"Seriously?", Frypan questioned, raising a brow.

Sighing, Minho pushed it open, the room beyond it a war scene.

Bright lights flashed red and blue, broken glass crackling under foot. Alarms sounded, chaos ringing loudly. Small splatters of blood were upon the walls, a painting of death and defeat. A warmth spread in my palm, my face met with a scared Chuck's. I gave his hand a squeeze, my eyes pleading that it'll be alright yet at the back of my mind... I couldn't have been more wrong.

Over the alarm, a calm voice started speaking, a blonde haired woman on a broken screen. She introduced herself as Doctor Ava Paige, telling us that we have survived phase one and the outside world was nothing but an endless scorch. Images of sand popped up, people who were stung, named as cranks. Mind buzzing from her explanation, I felt a surge of anger towards her. All along, it was her and her little experiment that gave us all this heartache, I wanted to yell and scream at her but my voice stayed still. Ava Paige was just on a recording, there would be no use. Ending the video, she pressed a gun to her head. Pulling Chuck to me so he wouldn't see, the bang sounded, her lifeless body dropping to the floor.

"What do we do now?", Newt asked, capturing Thomas' attention.

"We leave", he replied, turning to face the large steel door, "we escape this place".

"Let's do it", I smiled lightly at him.

A barrel being clicked behind us sounded. My blood running cold as I turned to see Gally, holding the weapon towards Thomas. Purple vines spider-webbed across his sickly pale skin. He had been stung. I gripped my bow tighter, fingers wrapped around an arrow.

"You can't leave", Gally croaked, tears pouring from his eyes.

His features were twisted, like he was fighting something, trying to earn control over his own brain.

"Hey, that's what were doing now, just drop the gun", Thomas had his arms held out in front of him, surrendering, "come with us".

"There's no escaping the maze!", Gally shouted, pressing down onto the trigger.

Reflexes snapping, I whipped the arrow onto the string, aiming perfectly into his chest. As the boy collapsed to the ground, I heard a whimper next to me. Fearing the worst, Chuck clutched onto his stomach, Thomas catching him. Watching in horror, I fell to my knees. This is just a bad dream, it's not real. Yet when I cradled him in my arms, it couldn't have hit harder that it was in fact, reality.

"No...", Thomas whispered from next to me, voice cracking.

"It's okay", Chuck whispered, placing a wooden figure into his hand.

His face fully paled, limbs flopping down, Chucks eyes were no longer the happy brown they used to be. Wailing, Thomas shook him gently, telling him to wake up. I sat as my cheeks grew wet, feeling stiff. He was gone. I don't understand how the enthusiastic boy I had once called a friend was... gone.

Heat spread on my back, the room filling with sunlight, hands gripping onto my shoulders. I didn't struggle. I just felt numb. Boots dragged against rough sand, a helicopter slicing the air. The Gladers were shoved inside, slumping like dolls against the walls. I had blanked out, staring at the murky blue sky.

Cold fingers laced with mine, my heavy head falling onto the shoulder of Newt, my eyes closing shut as the last tear dropped against the floor.