𝙼𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜

𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚝.2 || 𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒕

Your fingers stilled as they reached the last letter of your name. Like a spider, they crept to Newt's, lingering on the N. Then you pulled your hand away. You took a step back from the wall.

When you looked at it again, you didn't see Newt's name, or Margaret's, or your own. You saw Minho. Frypan. Chuck. Alby. You saw the crossed off names.

Stepping toward the wall, you laid a hand on "Marc," which was written in blocky letters and had one strong horizontal line running through it.

He'd died before you came to the Glade. You'd never known him, never asked about him. You'd never heard anyone mention him.

But he'd been here. He'd been in the Glade, maybe even in that very spot where your own two feet held you up now. He must have had friends. Was he a Runner who'd had an unlucky meeting with a Griever? A Builder who'd taken a hard fall off a roof? A sad, scared boy who'd jumped?

There was so much more to this place than Newt. A ferocity you'd never felt before gripped your heart.

"I'm going to get out," you said, your voice a whisper. "We're all going to get out."

That night, you slept in the room you shared with Newt, after you piled all of his things outside the door. He didn't try to come in. Briefly, you wondered if he was with Margaret, but then you let that thought slip away. You kept the anger and the resentment and the frustration, and you let it turn into determination. Over and over in your mind, you saw yourself running the Maze. You could map every part of your section in your head, all of the twists and turns and vines and dead ends.

You were up before the sun the next morning, not entirely sure if you'd ever slept. You beat Minho to the doors.

When he trotted over, you saw worry in his eyes. Pity.

"Ready to run?" you asked before he could say anything.

The doors rumbled. Rock walls ground against rock floor. Minho raised his voice so you could hear him say, "Always!" His cocky attitude just barely overshadowed his apprehension.

You slipped through the narrow opening, immediately setting off at a brisk pace. Minho loped easily to your side.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"

"Never better."

Newt's hands were running along her sides.

You sped up, gritting your teeth. The ground flew beneath you.

"You seem a little...off," Minho said. "I'm sorry for pushing it yesterday, we just want-"

"I just want to get out of this shucking maze! So slim it and get to work." With that, you darted to the right, down an all too familiar path. Minho's footsteps grew fainter until, after a left, two rights, and another left, you finally felt alone.

You scrutinized every wall you passed. Sometimes you'd stop to peer through the ivy that dripped over the stone, searching for anything underneath that would give you answers.

Why were trapped here? How would you get out? Why couldn't you remember your life before this? Why did Newt lie about loving you?

Not the last question.

You ran from the last question. When you felt those cursed images start to form in your mind, your legs went into overdrive and carried you as far as they had to go until your thoughts were under control.

Newt didn't matter. Margaret didn't matter. What mattered was getting out.

You flew through your section. As you were nearing the doors, you came to an abrupt stop, doing a double-take at the unfamiliar path that branched off from the road you were on. It was identical to every other section of the Maze, save for the fact that it wasn't supposed to be there. You'd plotted this map in your head hundreds of times, on paper tens of times, and that wall was supposed to be smooth, not gaping open to another path.