11

Running and Hiding

Every inch of her body ached for her to stop. The soreness spreading through her veins like an infection in her bloodstream. There was no other option though, she had to keep moving. These past few weeks have been nothing but pure hell. The Creepers, they seemed to be multiplying. From the beginning of her days in this endless Maze, it had never been this bad.

She ran as fast as she possibly could, her feet staggering around every corner. Roars echoed from each direction rattling her mind back and forth. with a huff of breath, she followed her instincts and pushed out a tired breath before trudging on.

In the back of her head she knew that she could escape the Creepers, but the fear that grew within the pit of her stomach never disappeared.

Her days in The Maze taught her many things. Originally, first waking up, she found herself alone. There was no reasoning as to why it was the way it was, but she was left by herself with no clue in the world of where she was. The only thing she had from the world behind her was the bow, the bow that she carried with her today. It's long wooden shaft rested comfortably over her shoulders clashing with the quiver which held her arrows. Those, and the small chain that dangled from her neck. It was a small souvenir, but it gave her something to go off of. There was one number engraved into the metal, one number that still had no meaning to her today, 11. She didn't know her name, where she came from, who she was. All she knew was how to shoot, fight, and survive.

Within the first few months, her arms were riddled in bumps, scrapes, and bruises from the harsh cement walls. So, in precaution, she covered her arms tightly in white tape. Every now and again she would find items in The Maze, whether the voices that spoke to her left them, or they were dropped by other survivors.

She didn't know who the voices were. But whenever she was in a tough situation, they spoke to her. They told her what to do, where to go, and how to survive. Their voices seemed familiar, one boy and one girl. But they never said names, nor did they say hers. They were short conversations, but it was enough to get her by. All she knew about them was that they were watching her. Somewhere, they could see everything she did.

Everyday she would search for a way out. Idea after idea subsiding from her mind only to be shoved back down as soon as it surfaced.

She was smart in The Maze, she knew all of its tricks. But yet, here she was once again, her long taped arms soaked with sweat as they flailed back and forth. The breath ripped from her lungs as the familiar whizzing of stone raced past her. After years of living within these walls, she memorized its twists and turns. So, her instincts are what led her further and further towards the edge of The Maze. She had been at this for hours, running, then hiding. Running, then hiding. The Creepers knew she was there however, they were hunting her. She had the upper hand though, she was smarter, she was faster.

Rounding the corner for what seemed like the hundredth time in just that hour, she found herself gaining distance from the pursuing beast. It's snarling venomous teeth stretching with its wall shaking screech.

She called them Creepers, a fitting name in her mind. They were most active at night but we're more than capable of attacking in the day. With no site the Creepers mainly relied on their sense of smell. And at the moment, 11 smelled of pure and utter human. Also known as sweat and dirt.

Suddenly through the Creepers roaring screams and her heavy breathing, a new noise seemed to catch her attention. She stopped dead in her tracks feeling the blood in her veins run cold.

The cry came from over her left shoulder. It's sounds echoing from the walls around her... It was a cry she had never heard before. A cry of another human.