Subject A250: The Fangirl (COMPLETED)

Twelve: Use The Force

Before she knew it, Trace was standing in front of the open East Doors.

They wouldn't be open for long, though. She knew that much.

The boys were all silent, watching, waiting for the return of Minho and Alby. They were expecting the worst; Trace knew better than that. She knew what was about to happen. There was no doubt in her mind now.

It was Thomas' time to shine.

Like the beautiful, bright, radiant star that he was.

And Trace would get to see the events on the other side of the wall tonight. Experience the storyline without Thomas for one night. And, though she dreaded the wave of claustrophobia that would come over her as Thomas squeezed through those wall, it was actually quite exciting.

She just wasn't sure how long she was going to have to stand here before anything happened.

"Come on, guys, can't we send someone after them?" Thomas said, disrupting the silence.

Thanks, Thomas, she thought. I can always count on you to sort out the timeline for me.

"That's against the rules. Either they make it back or they don't."

Trace was standing between Newt and Frypan, on the opposite side of Thomas to Gally, but she could still see the shank doing his signature crouch for dramatic effect.

What a slinthead.

"We can't risk losing anyone else."

Something about the way he said it sent a bolt of sadness through Trace's heart. It was so raw and he sounded so broken -- so much more than the movie or book had ever portrayed. Here he was, in person, protecting the others from his own personal hell.

A sudden gust of wind made its way down the corridor towards them, marked by a sudden 'boom' as the doors began to close. The sound was deafening- incredibly loud- and Trace instinctively reached up to cover her ears.

But she still saw the two figures down the end of the corridor. She still saw Thomas point in their direction.

What she didn't see coming was that change. She wasn't prepared for it. It wasn't in the script.

Trace did not like plot twists.

And she was even less fond of being one.

"There!" Thomas yelled, as he extended his finger to point in the direction of Alby and Minho.

"Wait, no. Something's wrong," Newt said, referring to Alby's condition.

But there was something else wrong. Something very wrong. Something so wrong that Trace wanted to scream out. She wanted to run in the other direction, climb back in the box hole and pretend this never happened. Even that would be easier than what was about to happen.

But she couldn't. She couldn't do any of those things.

Because her own body was out of her control.

She stepped forward, unwillingly, crossing the barrier and reaching the stone floor of the maze, the doors closing towards her now.

"What are you bloody doing?!" Newt yelled, reaching for her.

But Trace dodged his grasp, stepping further into the maze, now halfway through the doors.

Minho was still struggling with Alby, trying to drag him along the floor now.

"I can't-"Trace began, but was quickly cut off by some invisible force, silencing her, preventing her from saying any more.

"Get back here, you stupid slinthead!" Gally yelled, and for once she was actually grateful for the guy. He was trying to prevent her inevitable death. She'd try to remember that when he was killing Chuck.

But there was nothing she could do. Her legs kept moving and her mind kept screaming for them to stop. She wanted to go back. She wanted to be in the Glade. She hadn't asked for any of this.

She couldn't survive the way Thomas had. She would die out here tonight.

She saw the betrayal, the confusion, and the heartbreak on the faces looking back at her, desperately calling her back. She couldn't even form the word 'sorry', her mouth glued shut now by the horrible forces controlling her.

By WICKED.

She stepped through the doors with a whole metre left before they closed, now completely on the other side, in the maze. She would turn and run right back if she could. If her body allowed her.

But her body belonged to WICKED now. She had no control over it. She was at their mercy.

Suddenly, there was a blur of motion through the maze doors, squeezing through at the last minute, followed by the screams from the Glade. With that blur came a surge of hope.

Thomas.

Typical. What an idiot.

He collapsed to the ground beside her, looking between Minho and herself as if he expected some kind of praise.

From Minho, all he received was a disappointed look, accompanied with the iconic phrase:

"Good job; you just killed yourself."

From Trace, however, he got a far less useful response:

She collapsed to the ground.

WICKED had finally released her from their control.

And with their loss of control, came her loss of consciousness.

Her last thought before her head hit the ground was the most heartless and morbid thought she'd had so far:

At least I won't have to deal with Teresa.