IT STARTED WITH A MAZE - Newt x Reader (F)

- THE FIRST ANOMALY -

"I'm fine!" he snaps. "Just go- go, go, GO!"

We run, dragging Alby, hearts in our throats, the Maze walls echoing with the sound of pursuit. And for the first time since arriving in the Glade, I wonder if we're going to die.

Although the rain has now stopped, it still slicks the stone beneath our boots, turning the already treacherous paths into slick deathtraps. I'm soaked to the bone, hair plastered to my face, eyes burning with sweat and rain. My lungs scream for air, and every time I look at Minho, I see the same desperation mirrored in his expression.

Alby's still unconscious, dead weight between us. We each have a shoulder, dragging him as fast as we can, but it's not fast enough.

"We're not gonna make it like this!" Minho growls. His arm, the one the Griever cut, is soaked red, dripping steadily. He stumbles on a broken stone and nearly goes down. "Shuck- (Y/n), we're too slow!"

"We're close!" I shout over the pounding in my ears, the blood rushing, the thunder still rolling somewhere in the distance. "Don't say that- we're close!" But even I see the darkened sky. It took us too long to get out there, and now it's taken us too long to get back.

Minho pulls ahead a little, then stops short, dragging Alby back toward me. "Forget close! It's not enough!" He looks at me, face wild with fear. "You run back! Get help! I'll keep going!"

"What? No!" I shout, nearly losing my grip on Alby. "You're faster- you go! I'll stay with him!"

"I'm hurt!" Minho yells, his voice cracking with strain. "I won't make it all the way! You have a chance- run!"

"I'm not leaving you!"

Our shouting echoes through the Maze like cannon blasts. The Maze doesn't care. The stone's indifferent. And time is running out.

We look down at Alby between us, limp and oblivious. We're both breathing like we've been drowning. For a split second, Minho and I stare at each other, silent, wet, terrified.

And then-

A gust of wind slams through the corridor.

It's like the Maze is exhaling.

We whip around. "The doors," Minho gasps. "They're closing!"

The sound hits us a second later. Grinding metal and stone, that horrible churn of ancient gears awakening. It's like the Maze is shifting its bones.

"Move!" I scream.

No time to talk. No time to think.

We run, dragging Alby between us, tripping and stumbling, but never stopping. The stones glisten. The world smells like iron and mud and fear.

We round the final corner.

The Glade is there.

The open doors are ahead. The silhouettes of boys - Newt, Gally, Winston, Chuck - they're all there, screaming.

"RUN GUYS!"

"Leave Alby!"

"The doors are closing!"

But we can't. We won't.

Alby groans - still alive, still fighting something - but he can't stand. His feet drag uselessly, boots scraping the stone.

I feel my body breaking down. I've never run this far, this fast. My muscles are cramping, my chest seizing with every breath, but I don't care. Minho grits his teeth, covered in grime and blood, dragging with everything he has.

"LEAVE, (Y/N)! GET OUT OF HERE!" Minho screams, suddenly dropping Alby's shoulder. "Go! NOW!"

"WE CAN MAKE IT!" I bellow back, grabbing Alby's full weight and pulling him forward with a raw cry. "Don't you dare stop!" Minho hesitates-but then he scoops Alby's arm again and we lunge forward together.

The doors are closing.

The gap is narrowing.

"COME ON!" Chuck is screaming.

"DROP HIM!" Someone else shouts. "YOU WON'T MAKE IT!"

But we don't let go. We're so close. My legs feel like lead, but I push harder. The gap in the doors is still a dozen meters. We aren't going to make it. The screaming boys are right.

The Maze shrieks as its doors grind together and it is a sound so final, so full of doom, it echoes through every inch of me.

We're still inside.

Trapped.

Minho and I collapse to our knees, Alby between us, soaked and barely conscious. My lungs burn, throat raw from screaming, and my entire body trembles with exhaustion.

But then I realise that we are not alone. Someone has joined our little trio. The figure rises slowly, panting, his hands pressed to the stone as he lifts his head. "Thomas?" I breathe.

He stares at me, then at Alby, then at Minho. Thomas straightens, still catching his breath, eyes wild but determined.

"Good job," Minho snarls. "You just killed yourself." The words hit like a slap. Thomas recoils slightly, blinking hard like he's trying to make sense of the weight of what he's done.

I'm frozen, breathing ragged, staring at him. The reality is settling in like a sickness: there's no getting out now.

Not until morning.

And no one lasts that long.

~