Good Grief (TMR fic)

Chapter 74

(I wanted something like a lullaby for this scene, and I think there couldn't have been anything better than the horrifying Lullaby of Woe~)

We're in a large room. The floor is concrete, except for the mat at the base of the slide. I already knew that, but what I hadn't expected were the huge windows making up one side of the room. The great panes of glass keep us away from the people on the other side – scientists.

They all are wearing white lab coats, and many are typing on computers. A few are standing in front of the windows taking notes on... us, I guess, although what they're writing is beyond me.

"Hey! You shuck idiots! What's the meaning of this? You want me to break your faces?" Minho yells, but they don't respond. I'm not sure if they can hear us.

I can see that the room extends beyond the other wall locking us in, so I'm not surprised when a door opens and one of the scientists walks in, a man following on her heels. I can't see the man's face since he's wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up and staring at the ground.

I can see the woman, though. She's not familiar in any way, except for the word inscribed on her lab coat that I recognize as she comes closer. WICKED.

I think we've finally met our beloved Creators.

"Congratulations," the woman says, stopping in front of us. "You have successfully completed the Maze Trials."

"The what now?" Newt mutters. He's by my side again.

"Your results were quite impressive," she continues. "More of you survived than expected, which we are indeed grateful for. I hope you are all proud of your achievement – with the data we have gathered, we can save thousands of lives."

"Oh, yeah," I say, a bit louder than I meant to, and she looks at me. "I'm really proud. I'm really proud of everyone who bled to death like cattle. What a success."

She sends me a dark glare. "I would have expected better from a survivor of the Maze Trials," she snaps. Then she turns to the man behind her. "Show your face."

He reaches up and lowers his hood. I clench my teeth instantly. It's Gally. It's the boy who attacked me and left me to die.

His hands are trembling, and there are tears in his eyes. It's like he's fighting to speak, but can't. Something's wrong.

He choked himself so that he would stop talking to me. It was like he was being controlled. The words flood into my brain, and I understand. Whatever Gally is fighting... it must be what caused Alby to choke himself.

He's not himself. Something is wrong.

Just as I reach that conclusion, Gally reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a long knife, thin and balanced. Then he whips his arm back in preparation, and launches it at Thomas.

I don't watch the knife. Instead I stare at Gally, at the sickening look of surrender on his face. And even though I want another reason to hate him, I know. I know he didn't do it. Where would a Builder have learned to throw knives that well, anyway?

Thomas screams. I look over, expecting to see my unbearably cheerful optimist dying. But he's fine. Well, physically he's fine. Emotionally, he's probably anything but okay. In his arms is a blood-soaked Chuck.

It reminds me of when Ben was shot. The blood pulses out from around the knife buried in Chuck's chest with a rhythmic beat.

"Find my mom," he gasps to Thomas. "Tell her-"

But his words die in his throat. He twitches as he chokes on the blood, and his face grows blank.

Thomas lowers the child's corpse to the ground, and locks his eyes on Gally.

I know the boy didn't do it, but that doesn't mean I'll try to stop Thomas. If anything... I look at the woman beside Gally. She's rigid, emotionless. They have to be behind it. The Creators controlled him. They're the reason he threw the knife, the reason Chuck died.

Thomas and I charge as one. He tackles Gally to the ground. I throw my body into the scientist.