Maze Runner Imagines and Preferences

Stupid dares -- Gally

*your perspective*

"Come on, (Y/N)," Gally leans back against the huge wall, rolling his eyes, "something harder than that!"

"Ok," I bite my lip, looking around the Glade, "I dare you to go outside the Walls."

"What?" he looks up from playing with his shirt hem, eyeing me like I'm slightly crazy.

"You heard me," I grin, "unless... you're too chicken."

"I'm not chickening," he protests, and I raise an eyebrow, my arms folded.

My boyfriend looks around, then back to me.

"Look," he says, "I'm as brave as the next shank in here, but those Walls are there for a reason."

"I'll come with you," I compromise, "we'll duck out and be back like that." I snap my fingers, pushing myself up off the tree I was leaning on, taking Gally's hand.

"I don't know..." he grumbles, but I keep pulling him towards the door.

We stand in the gap, staring out into the Maze. Since neither of us are runners, technically we're not allowed out here, but if we step out and back in again nobody will know, right?

"Come on, let's do it," I step forwards, Gally following.

Outside the Glade, everything seems much bigger. I stand in the cool grey corridor, taking in the huge ivy-covered walls on either side of us.

"Ok," Gally pulls on my hand, "let's go now."

I don't move, I'm too busy looking around me. I take a few steps down the massive path, my footsteps echoing slightly off the walls. I keep going, ignoring Gally's hissed warnings and tugging on my hand. I round a corner and stop, frozen.

"(Y/N)," Gally whisper-shouts, "we have to..." he stops, spotting what I've already seen up ahead of us.

Sitting stock-still in the middle of the Maze path, is a mass of greyish, jelly-like flesh, random metal tools and implements sticking out here and there. As we watch, it quivers, the sound of a whirring engine and mechanical clicks and scrapes travelling through the air towards us.

"Do you think..." I breathe, trailing off mid-sentence.

It's pretty obvious what the disgusting creature is, we can hear them at night, roaming the Maze while we sleep. We call them Grievers because of the haunting moans they make. The monster ahead of us gives one such moan now, the awful sound sending shivers down my spine.

"We have to go, now!" Gally tugs my arm, backing away. This time, I follow him, keeping my eyes on the Griever.

Suddenly, there's a revolting squishing, sucking sound and metal spikes burst from the grey flesh. The thing's engine whines, and it curls into a ball, rolling forwards. I stand still, I can't believe what I'm seeing. The spikes dig into the stone floor, clinking ominously as it comes towards us. Metal arms wave, topped with spinning saw blade, snapping sheers and horribly sharp needles.

"Run," I say, turning and sprinting around the corner. We're only a few hundred metres from the doors, but the Griever is fast. Something jerks me backwards by the shirt, and I hear Gally yell. The thing lets go of my shirt, and I stagger forwards, turning around to see Gally on the ground, curled into a ball with his hand pressed to his shoulder. His eyes are squeezed tight shut in pain.

I look at the Griever, expecting it to come after me, but it's turning away from us, rolling back down the corridor and around another corner.

I drop to my knees beside Gally, prying his hand from his shoulder and inspecting the skin. Right there, amid a small patch of red skin, are three pin-pricks of blood, rapidly turning a weird black colour.