If you've ever been my friend, love me.

Chapter 11

*holy crap I'm so so sorry here is an update thank you all so much for lovely comments ilysm*

Thomas felt like he was breathing urgency through his lungs.
Urgency, panic and pain.
He could see the left turn, right in front of him. 30 meters tops.
The click and hiss of the griever curled around his ankles and tugged him back but he kept moving.
Newt wasn't to heavy, the boys weight almost nothing as Thomas body was filled with adrenaline.
20 meters.
A horrifying claw, streaked down Thomas side, the talons ripping his skin. He chocked on a scream and didn't dare to look back.
His pace quickened and the griever lunged at him again. In panic the boy swerved to the right, he saw the claw come down next to him and crash into the gravely ground.
10 meters.
He risked a glance back, swinging newt on his back.
The claw was the grievers longest weapon, being able to reach out about a meter and a half.
But if it got any closer, it had far worse weapons in store.
It's claw had jammed in the soil, Thomas gagged at the thought of the claw digging into his head like that.
5 meters.
He turned back around, running faster with his back turned to the griever.
Newt uttered something in his ear but Thomas couldn't hear.
As he turned the griever pulled its weapon from the earth, setting out at the boy again.
Newt mumbled again. Thomas still couldn't make out the words.
"I can't...I can't" Thomas uttered.
As he turned into that left aisle his heart sank. There was nothing there.
Nothing.
The hallway stretched on like all the others
"Newt...?" He whispered, air struggling into his lungs.
He turned in horror as he saw the griever turn left too and streak towards him.
Unable to move he was frozen to the spot. The griever screamed a metallic howl and sent an enormous saw from it's jelly like stomach.
Thomas thought he heard newt say something again.
The griever lashed out, Thomas let out a scream. At the same time he felt newt rise from his back and finally he heard his words.
"The wall"
He felt newts elbow, smash into his side, shoving him into the maze wall, riddled with ivy.
In the same moment the grievers saw hurtled down on him and all Thomas could feel was the terrifying felling of falling.
***
In a dream, when you're falling, you never land before you wake up. They say that if you're dreaming of falling, and you land on the ground, you die in your sleep.
When Thomas landed on a rough concrete floor, damp with mould, he half expected to be dead.
When he took a shaky breath he thought it was odd to breath in death.
Then, at a second thought, he realised that death had not fallen upon him.
Instead, he was shrouded in darkness, a kind of cloak that been tossed down on him.
"Newt?" The word crawled up his throat and came out in a rasped whisper.
There was no reply. Thomas gut was pulled from him stomach. At least it felt like it as he shuffled forward slightly on his knees. Spreading a hand out in front of him he slowly worked his way forwards.
He called out newts names again. Again, no reply. Thomas didn't really know what to expect, but it didn't take long for his hand to fall on a wall. It wasn't made of rock, like the floor digging into his knees. But it wasn't completely smooth. It seemed to stretch up for a while, however Thomas was scared to stand up completely. So far, the ground was the only thing he was sure of.
The closer, the better, so his plan was to stay low.
He stayed close to the wall, moving his hand off the ground to his side every now and again, just to check it was still there.
He was about to pull his hand away from the ground when his hand felt something rise from the stone floor.
It curved and stretched up... Almost like...an arm.
Thomas felt fingers and a palm, his heart beating frantically, he found the body's face.
"Newt? Newt?!"
He shook the figure gently but it was limp... Motionless....dead.
"No no no no" Thomas murmured, his movements now unsure and hurried like he was racing against time.
But there was no more time.
Newts time was up.
"NO" Thomas screamed into the blackness of his vision.
Tired, sore, and numb with sadness. He fell against the wall, resting in a sitting position. He wiped his face, grime and tears mixing on the back of his hand. Newt. Newt couldn't be gone. He felt more alone then he'd ever felt before, shrouded in the darkness.
He let his sobs echo in that hell.
As he put his head back to rest it on the wall, the back of his head hit a box, jutting out from the wall.
turning around quickly, Thomas fumbled around in the dark until he found it again. He felt a switch.... A light switch?
He hesitated. Maybe the darkness was better then seeing the horrors that lay beyond. He shook off his fear, hitting the lever.
Light flooded into his brain.
But instead of newt infront of him, it was someone else.
With the image of the mangled stranger Thomas became suddenly aware of a horrible smell that leaked into his head.
He gaged as shock drowned him.
With the light on he noticed:
The body infront of him was not newt at all. For sure.
Newt was on the opposite side of the room, slumped in the corner... But not quite... Slumped.
More like he'd fallen asleep but could wake up any moment. Thomas hoped that was a good sign.
The boys face was turned away from him, but Thomas new it was him. A tone of relief mixed with his horror.
Lastly, Thomas vaguely noticed, in that moment, that the room they were in was both the worst and best place to be in this twisted prison.