❝ Remembrance blooms from her fingertips.❞
Subject A0; The Primary Subject
Subject A5; The Glue
The Keeper of the Runners is alarmed when he finds a ball of white huddled in a crook in the Maze's corridors. A girl who is rotted with bruises and soak...
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Minho came back.
And as soon as he did, boys began to gather near the north doors. All with either sharp wooden sticks, or fifteen foot long poles with flat ends.
Chuck tried to persuade me to go somewhere else, to go to the homestead or even for a walk in the Deadheads. I asked why. He said because he didn't want me to see. So I refused.
The Glade was painted with a hazy purple, but the stubborn sun still refused to set which provided us with dim light. Alby and Newt were the last ones to show, both carrying poles. Newt didn't meet my eyes when he passed Chuck and I. His eyes were on the ground as if he was ashamed of whatever he was about to do.
"Just listen to me." I looked over my shoulder and froze. Minho was back and holding Ben as a hostage. His hands tied back behind his head, in a condition far worse than what I remember. Ben's breathing more resembled an animal billowing. "Just please listen to me! Minho!"
Chuck grabbed my wrist, pulling me farther back from the area. Footsteps came from behind, then stopped right next to me. Thomas stood, brown syrup eyes wide in horror.
Ben was placed in the center of the circle, kneeling right in front of the open doors. His breaths began to form growls as Minho took a miniature knife, and cut through the rope that held his wrists. Ben doubled over, falling onto his palms. He began to cry, meshed with strange sounds from his stomach.
"No, no, please don't. Please don't do it." He was wailing, his face contorted with regret and fear. Minho looked back at Alby as if to change his mind. Alby nodded for him to continue, almost in disgust. It was disgust with themselves.
The familiar click echoed as Minho chucked a satchel into the corridor, hitting a small puddle of water as it bounced.
The walls began to close, a rumbling doom to Ben's ears.
"Poles!" My eyes widened as all boys angled their poles directly at Ben, who had scrambled to his feet. I felt a small brush against my arm and looked over to see Chuck's back walking away. "Move in."
They began to close in on him as the doors sluggishly pulled together.
"No, no! No please! Please!" I shook my head in disbelief.
Something like this couldn't happen. This was the reality. Big walls, doors that lead into a Maze, boys turning against one and having to kill him. Technically, the Maze was going to kill him. The Maze we were supposed to escape from. Things like this don't happen in reality, right?
"Listen to me! " I covered my ears with my hands, and for a moment I wanted my hearing to be gone as well.
They forced him down the thin strip gap, just in time for them to extract the poles before the walls closed. The last vision was Ben, giving up on the other side, and screaming in pure hatred of what they've done to him.
And it fell silent. I shakily removed my hands.
It was like the Glade was apologizing with the blissful birds chirping in the distance.Either someone was looking around at the others, or either looking at the ground. Alby glossed among the boys, to Newt, then to Thomas and I who stood at the end.
"He belongs to the Maze now." And with that he left, walking past with a staggering brave face. Newt, Frypan, everyone.They all walked past with distraught faces. All except Gally, who I was mortified when he shot a death glare at me and Thomas.
I pushed against the current of boys, making my way to the closed doors. Who knew if Ben was still on the other side.
"Prim..." Thomas asked weakly. His voice was on the verge of breaking. No doubt what just happened scarred him beyond repair.
I touched the shoulder of the last person who stayed behind, gaining his attention. One singular tear was sliding down the peak of his cheekbone, which he quickly wiped away. His eyes searched mine, then to the corner of my head.
"What'd they do to you when I was gone, Doll-Face."
I wouldn't even count his words to me as a whole voice.
Minho's image to me of an overconfident, egotistical, know-it-all was utterly shattered.
Letter Nineteen
Our world will continue to turn, whichever way gravity pulls. Even if the sun will burn the hollows of our souls.
If our reason we were placed here was to figure out this Maze, why put something in it to kill us.
What kind of hypocritical fool does something so futile.
-Prim
——— Sorry for the short chapter but to make it up I'll be updating later tonight!
I hope your enjoying so far! (AMAZED THAT YOU ACTUALLY LIKE MY STORY I DIDNT THINK ANYBODY WOULD LIKE IT.)
