Chapter Twenty

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Note
Sorry if this chapters bad, I'm writing it at like 10:30 pm lol. And I'm very tired ha. Also if someone could comment something it honestly would make my day, I really want to know what you all think so it can encourage me to keep writing.

Teddy's POV

Before I can realize what's happening, Thomas is pulling me out of the safeness of the ivy, and dragging me into the concrete hallway. "Run!" He whispers in my ear, the griever, noises are getting more closer once again. "Run like your life depends on it! Because it does!"

My feet slam on the concrete ground with each leap I take. I run as fast as I possibly can, forcing myself to push through the pain forming in my knees. It doesn't help that I'm not used to running this fast, and I'm actually surprised I can keep up with Thomas.

I can feel the griever on our tail, coming closely behind. Moans and screeches from grievers fill the air, along with mine and Thomas's heavy breathing.

I really hope Minho is okay, but i know he's a smart person, but can also be incredibly dumb at times or if he wants to be. The thought makes me smile, of all the fun times we've had together.

"Teddy!" Thomas says, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Faster!"

Realizing how much I was slowing down, I pick up some more speed. I honestly don't know how Minho does this everyday, it feels like someone keeps punching my lungs repeatedly and making it extremely hard to consume air.

I follow Thomas as he turns right down another corridor. My heart is racing so much I think it may pop out of my chest. Suddenly, I hear a terrifying grumbling noise.

"Shit Thomas!" I yell ahead to him between heavy breathing. "The wall- Changing! Down this- corridor!" Hopefully that made at least some sense...

"Shit!" I hear him yell as he looks around.

More horrifying griever sounds are approaching, and the walls down the long corridor we are in are becoming thinner. We make it down another aisle, just as the doors are nearly shut, but the griever is close on our tails- there is no escaping it.

"Oh bloody hell," I whisper to myself, even though it's nearly inaudible to my own ears. I stop in my own tracks and look behind me, not only to see a griever,  at the end of the connecting hallway we just exited.

"Hey!" I yell at the top of my lungs- I have a plan.

"Teddy! Are you an idiot?! RUN!" I hear Thomas yell.

The griever is approaching me, and the walls are shutting quickly.

"Try me!" I tease it. It grows more and more angrier, I can tell.

As if on cue, just as my plan, the corridor finally shuts, squashing the beast in between the thick walls. Relief floods over me. "It worked!" I shout to Thomas, only to realize I've got my own situation going on.

I see Thomas at the end of the aisle, shouting my name as the walls I'm standing in between, are shutting. "Holy shit," I say, bolting towards the end of it.

I make it safely, just in time as they completely close shut. I collapse on the ground, out of breath. My knee is in so much pain, but I gotta keep going.

"C'mon," Thomas says exhaustedly. He offers his hand and we start running once more.

This goes on for what seems like a lifetime; running, turning left, turning right. Luckily, there have been no encounters with grievers, but we did hear their noises. We also haven't seen Minho yet, or the spot we hung Alby. And I haven't even been able to properly catch my breath, I feel like I'm gonna die.

All of a sudden, we are about to turn the left corner when we run into someone- Minho!

"Ow what the-," Thomas starts.

"Minho?!" I finish the sentence, pulling him into a big bear hug. "I'm glad you're okay." I say out of breath almost completely.

He smiles and hugs me back.

"It's getting closer to morning, we need to get back to the Glade." Minho says.

I nod, too exhausted to speak.

Thomas and Minho are way ahead of me, I don't think they noticed how far back I am.

I feel like I could just lose control of my self in the snap of a finger, and collapse to the ground. I've never felt this much pain in my life- well, not that I can remember. Feeling something smacking against my ankles, I look down to see my shoe lace untied. "Oh shi-,"

Before I can finish the sentence I trip and fall onto the hard ground, banging my head in the process.

"Teddy!" I hear distanced, muffled sounds repeating my name. I try and pick myself up, but I can't! I don't want to die! I think to myself, making me want to cry. My arms and legs feel too weak, I feel  tired and breathless. My eyes are slowly drifting away from the grey sky over the walls. I need to speak, but the words just don't form.

Before I know it I'm being carried by someone. Vivid images of reality flash through my mind. Is this what death feels like? I wonder to myself. I wish I could say I was being over dramatic.

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