artemis, MAZE RUNNER¹

¹ 𝒕𝒘𝒐.

"We live here." He continued, seeming hesitant with his words. "We work here, live here. Inside these walls we're happy, see?" He was working around his words, lowering his hands gently. "We're all slintheads, but we get on. No one gets hurt, people stay happy."

She breathed in shakily. His words were confusing, but his eyes were gentle. For now, she could at least try to put her trust in someone.

"Okay," She said finally.

"Okay?" He smiled. "Sorry about Ed," he gestured to the boy she punched, was now sporting a freshly split lip. She shifted, slightly sheepish. He was definitely going to bruise. "He's one of our strongest, but he's a real baby at heart." He whispered the last part, earning a small, jerky smile.

"I heard that!" Ed called loudly, earning more laughs. The small smile grew just a little.

"It'll be okay, you'll s—" Newt began, but was cut off.

He was interrupted by something definitely not human. A hollow shriek, gurgling and empty as it rang high on the warm, stuffy air. It came from behind the towering walls, muffled by the grey brick. But it was still clean cut as it wrapped itself around her.

The small smile was slapped off her face by fear. Fear and recognition. She knew that sound — she had heard it before. Stumbling back, she slapped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes tight. That sound was bad. It brought bad things, and she could tell. She just didn't know how.

Her chest heaved painfully, up and down fast. Her breathing was quickening, blood boiling as she crouched down, shaking her head, rattling the sound out of her ears. Everything was blocked out — muffled shouts, confusion and worry. All she could hear was her heartbeat slamming against her chest, the wail ringing tremendously loud in her ears.

"Artemis!" Like another slap in the face, Newt's voice pulled her out. She started, eyes snapping open as her hands fell forwards onto his rough ones, her gaze searching for some sanity to lock onto.

"Shh, shh —" He glanced over his shoulder. "Can someone get a Med-Jack?" He called, voice breaking. He turned back to her. "It's okay, it was just a Griever, it can't get to you —"

"Griever," she repeated, the word odd and unfamiliar.

"Yeah, Griever." He nodded, "You just breathe nice and slow, alright?"

She followed his instructions, trying to slow her breathing down enough to get air back into her lungs. A point in the back of her head was achy and sore, either from the lack of oxygen or the effort to remember where the sound came from.

"That's it, that's right, come on." He strained, standing up and hauling all her weight with him. "Jeff —"

"Give her here," this boy was smaller, skinny. Younger than even her. But he seemed sure of himself as he tucked a hand under Artemis's arms, coaxed her to lean onto him.

"I can walk —" she tried, but he cut her off. Steering her away from the crowd towards the collection of straw huts.

"You're in shock," he said quietly, eyes fixed on a large hut to the right. "Best save your energy. We'll give you something to settle you down, but it'll make you quite drowsy."

"Drowsy." She repeated. He didn't reply as he shouldered the door open, feet padding on the sandy floor.

It smelled oddly clinical. Herbs were piled over tiny oil lamps, sunlight streamed in through the gaps between twigs that built up the walls. Shadows danced across the ground; separate walls broke off the main entrance to the hut, revealing gaps and dark spaces which Artemis could only guess to be smaller rooms.