Griever Tamer|| The Maze Runner¹/ Minho

|C.37|

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A game of tug of war, something Blake and her brother used to play. Although this wasn't like the fun kids game where it ends with giggles in the mud, instead this ends with blood and certain death.

Blake's grip on Hawk's hands was stone hard, but her body was too light. The Griever was too strong. Blake felt her feet lift from the stone, just nipping at the ground by the tips of her toes. It was going to take her too. Hawk let out heavy breaths, his eyes wild with fear. He let out an agonizing yell as the Griever dug its claw deeper in his leg.

The reality of the moment hit hard as her feet were unable to touch the ground below.
"Blake," Hawk huffed, the words having an urgency. "Let go! It'll take us both. Let go!"

The words twisted Blake's face sour. She wasn't going to let him be carried away and killed. She just couldn't. "No! I'm not letting go." His hands loosen around hers. The slipperiness and the aching in Blake's hands made it that much harder to hold on. "Hawk!"

Then, the next thing to come from Hawk's mouth was something she was no way prepared for. Looking her dead in the eyes he said firmly, "Face your fears, Blake."

Her grip slipped, letting go of Hawk. Burning out the candle that was Hawk.

Her body hit the hard stone sending an electric pain in her back, but it could no way be compared to the pain she felt as she watched the Griever slice at Hawk's body like it was some hanging meat in Frypan's kitchen. She was frozen, feeling an ache in every part of her body. A tingle of unbearable sadness in her chest. Tears leaked from her eyes, falling down her cheeks.

She couldn't save him. She couldn't save anyone.

All too soon, Blake's time to grieve was up. Another Griever came rolling towards her. She heard the clicks, saw the bubbly body. But she didn't move. She was frozen with sadness, with fear over the loss of her friend.

Then, a blur of green gooey skin. Blake watched as another Griever knocked the one charging at her against the wall, leaving chips of stone debris flying from the wall. She was stunned for a moment. Why would a Griever save me?

Blake then realized that Griever was Seven.

Seven pushed short and long blades into its foe blubber skin. Moan and whirls shot through the air loudly. Spikes poked from both of their skin in rapid moments. The other Griever sliced a huge gash in Seven's skin, causing it to tumble backward in distress. It's screams echoed around Blake's head.

The other Griever regained itself from the slashes all over its skin, ramming its metal spikes into Seven. Yellow oil spilled from the wounds, spraying on stone and enemy.

Blake cried Seven's name repeatedly like a broken record, pleading him not to give up.

She watched frozen as Seven's body was knocked against the wall, twitching like crazy. The sadness, pain, and fear was unbearable. Blake started to sob to release the unreleasable sadness she felt. Closed her eyes to shut out the blood and oil.

She wished this was a nightmare. She wished this feeling of uncertain sadness and cursing fear went away. She wished she was brave.

Seven had saved her life again, something she would never get to repay. She hated being in debt to someone, and now she could never fulfill that debt.

Blake wondered if anyone else she cared for was dead. She opened her eyes to only see Seven. Its head was smashed against the stone, absorbing a flat shape. It laid against the stone lifeless, whatever mechanical life that used to be there was gone.

One of Seven's many arms slid across the stone near Blake. The arm with the three-fingered claw. The number seven still in graved in the steel center. A taunting jester of Seven's death.

The Griever who killed Seven, who smashed it to mush, and tore it to pieces, started to head towards Blake. But suddenly, it's body shut down. Weapons and spikes retreated into into its bodies. Mowing machines and haunting clicks disappeared. They did it. The ding-dongs did it!

Blake shucked in a breath, starting to feel the sharp pain of cuts and bruises all over her body. She stood taking in the previous fight that just went down. Fresh blood and lifeless Gladers laid against the stone, the ghost of their last fearful moments still etched upon their faces. People around her held weapons, carried stunned and depressed looks.

"Come on, let's go," she heard Minho say. His body was covered in stab wounds and scratches, his shirt ripped to the point only a few pieces hanged over his chest. Their eyes met for a moment, the action was enough to say that both were glad the other was alive. Glad was an understatement.

The remaining people followed Minho towards the Cliff. Everyone stood there for a long second. "I'll go first—"

"No, it's okay. I will. I can't... I can't look at this place anymore," Blake said, weakly.

Minho nodded moving out of the way. She threw her shredded over-shirt to the ground, leaving her in a black tank top. She then planted one foot on the very edge of the Cliff and jumped into the twilight air. She brought her arms to her side, pointed her toes downward, stiffened her body.

She then hit the hole.

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Well...Rip Hawk and Seven. <3

I hope you liked the sad chapter! Sorry it took me like two weeks to post but here we are! I been super busy, but I'll try to update the chapters sooner. Stay tuned for the next chapter. Hopefully, that one will be a bit longer. <3