Griever Tamer|| The Maze Runner¹/ Minho

|C.38|

𖤛𖤛𖤛𖤛𖤛𖤛𖤛𖤛

A wave of an icy chill shot across Blake's exposed arms as she entered the Grievers' home. It felt as if she jumped through a pool of freezing water. A flash of light hit her eyes as her feet made contact to the ground, the slimy surface caused her to slip forward, falling on her clammy hands, knees perching the stone ground.

Thomas ran up to her aid, helping Blake back on her feet. His face a mix of relief and worry.
"Are you okay? Where're the others?"

Blake kept nodding for no apparent reason, just a reflex her body was doing trying to process the electric shock she felt. "Coming."

"I..." Blake looked around, a dead griever laid on the ground. Her heartbeat pounded in her head. "What...how? No...I...I...but..."

"I think she's in some sort of shock," Teresa observed, gently guiding Blake towards a curved wall. As she did that Minho dropped through the hole.

Blake felt in a daze as more people dropped through the hole, her breathing was in staggered gulps. Her head spun, unable to allow her to make a single thought. She stared blankly at the blur of people in sludgy, ripped clothes. Everyone one was covered in either their own blood or someone else's. The thought made Blake quiver.

"The rest?" Thomas asked.

"Half of us," Newt said, his voice weak. "Dead."

Those words brought Blake back to reality. She buried her head in her hands, digging her fingers into the hair. Palms pushing against her temples. Mourning the death of Hawk, the lost Gladers...even Seven.

"You know what?" Minho said, standing up a little taller. "Half might've died, but half of us shucking lived. And nobody got stung—just like Thomas thought. We've gotta get out of here."

Blake held her tears in for the hope of saving these people. But the feeling of despair never left her stomach.

"Let's get out of here," Newt said. "Right now."

"Where do we go?" Minho asked.

Thomas pointed down the long tunnel. "I heard the door open down that way."

"Well—let's go," Minho answered. And the former Runner turned and started walking up the tunnel without waiting for a response.

Teresa urged Blake lightly froward, not leaving her side which Blake appreciated.

After a minute or so of walking, she heard a high pitched shriek from ahead, followed by another, then another. Blake jumped backward in alarm.

"Sounds like they were falling," Newt said, looking at Teresa for answers.

Teresa nodded. "Looks like it ends in a slide up there shooting down."

Shouts and hoots echoed off the walls as they grew closer. Soon, they were in the front of a steeply descending metal slide. Blake took a deep breath. She went down the slide before she could think otherwise. Her body shot down the oily metal in a tickle of flutters in her stomach. A giggled escaped her lips, bouncing off the walls as she went, the noise sounded almost refreshing. It felt like a crime to giggle at a time like this.

The place reeked of nose-stinging metal and burnt plastic. As she slides farther down, a new smell clouded her noise of rot and garbage. She gaged and coughed, the sounds bouncing off the wall.

The tunnel began to twist, turning in a rough spiral, just enough to slow them down, but not to completely stop them. Around and around Blake went down the slide. Her stomach felt foul, her throat felt raw. The smell and circling motion made her want to throw up. She covered her mouth just as her body flew out of the tunnel and landed on the hard ground.

Blake moved out the way just before Newt could crash onto her, but just as he hit the ground, Chuck slid down, landing on top of Newt. Teresa soon followed with Thomas right behind her. Bodies scrambled everywhere, people on top of people, groaning and squirming in confusion as they tried to push away from each other.

Blake watched as Thomas threw up. Her own stomach was tempted to do the same, but she managed to hold it in. Her attention turned to her surroundings.

They were in a huge underground chamber. From top to bottom, side to side, the place was covered in all kinds of machinery and wires and ducts and computers. On one side of the room—to her right—there was a row of forty or so large white pods that looked like enormous cocoons.

The Grievers' Pods, she thought.

Blake had been in this room number of times. It felt so familiar, like she had walked in there almost every day. She wondered if she maybe even designed the Grievers in there.

"Look!" someone shouted. Blake turned. A new kind of feeling filled her stomach. Shiver like goosebumps slithered up her arms in a chill.

Directly in front of them, a row of twenty or so darkly tinted windows. Behind each one was a person—vast ages of wise men, and ridged women, all of them pale and thin, almost ghostly. Their faces stony, withered from any glee. They stood observing the Gladers, staring through the glass with precise eyes.

Blake knew exactly who they were...

The Creators.

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Happy October! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. The first book is almost done...But don't be sad because there will be a second book! Also, I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I think it shows a new side of Blake that we don't see much. These deaths really effect her, and will play a major role in shaping Blake into a new person...

Anyway, more updates soon!