Twelve

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Suddenly boys running toward the empty exit.
I don't know what came over me but I was suddenly shouting for people to stop running, why would the creators make it so easy?

Not soul running listened to me. Not until they saw what happened, the first three boys reached the door, sprinting out into the maze. But suddenly from the top of the wall, ropes of ivy came swinging down Wrapping around the three boys necks and pulling them upwards, a snapping sound rang out and the bodies went limp, still hanging halfway up the wall. There to remind the boys not to run.

"How'd yer bloody know?" newt asks i shrug and reply I guess I knew the creators wouldn't make it that easy." "Clever" newt replies "but we have a bigger problem on our mind right now," he nods forward at the moving grievers, their gooey skin squelching and metallic arms reaching out. Groans escape from their gruesome bodies, no mouth visible.

I wince and fall to the ground, newts above me peering down then scooping me into his arms, ready to run, he whispers in my ear "nows not the time gem. Let it be quick. And important."

I drifted off and still the grievers lay in front of me. A man walked in plunging his hand into the gooey flesh of the grievers and pulling out a handle, the griever went still, unmoving, making no sounds.

I wake gasping, "to kill them you have to pull out a handle in their backs." I shout to everyone. Most complaining that you actually have to touch them. But others asking acidly why I actually know this.

The grievers are close now. The surviving boys return to the tightly packed circle, raising spears and knives, there was about two grievers for every person, it was impossible to make it.

The grievers came on, their out stretched arms snapping at anything that moved, ducking i stabbed at a griever, and running around its back whilst it sat stunned, and plunging my hand into its sticky flesh I delved around to find the handle. My middle finger brushed plastic just as the griever turned on me, jolting forward i grabbed the handle yanking at it just as its pincers found home, home in my shoulder. A searing pain shot through my body, pain like I’d never felt before. Screaming i pulled harder, the plastic coming free, the creature died before me.

Looking around i saw newt slamming his sword into the grievers flesh running over i shoved my hand into its flesh, pulling the handle out. The creature groaned its final groan and went still. "Whoa clever and fit, I’m gonna have to work hard to keep yer, gem" but newts joke couldn't tear my eyes away from the devastation occurring around me. Many we're struggling and some even were battling two grievers at once, sending there flailing arms crashing to the ground only to be struck by another. Nodding at newt we split up helping the others. Newt went to the people battling two, i went to help the ones who were almost consumed in the jelly mass of the grievers bodies.

Looking around i spotted someone on the floor backing up against the wall of the homestead, sprinting over i grabbed a spear plunging it into the grievers flesh, I shouted at the boy to get up and help, but my voice was drowned out by the moan of pain that escaped from the grievers mouth, shouting again i got the boys attention, he arose coming to stand by my side and fight. Whilst he fought on I slipped around the back pulling the handle and backing away to avoid the falling mass of its gooey body. Yelling at the boy I told him to go pull out the handles, help others. Stepping inside the homestead i collapsed on the floor breathing heavily, the injury must be getting to me.

'Gemma' someone was inside my head, i screamed suddenly wishing I hadn't: I didn't want to bring unwanted 'griever' attention to myself 'Gemma, you have to get away they're gonna send more grievers, find the wall you'll know it when you see it, it'll glimmer. Gemma they're gonna cut me off, please come to me!'

I run out of the homestead, looking for the boy names Minho, and newt had pointed him out last night. he was the keeper of the runners, finding him fighting a griever, i kill it, talking to Minho saying "we're gonna have to run, they're sending more, the creators, we have-" I was cut off by Minho screaming at me to move looking at the oncoming griever I run towards it diving down the side of it, sticking my hand in and yanking out the handle with the momentum of the dive.

Me and Minho gathered the surviving after shutting down the remaining grievers, knowing time was running short and that more grievers were on their way we ran out of the glade splitting into two groups so that it would be easier to lose the grievers if they caught up with us. Running through the maze Gemma searched the walls seeing if she recognised them. Around lunch time they stopped for a rest. Handing out what little food and water supply's they'd packed at short notice. Turning the corner, Minho backed up, shushing the 13 strong crowd. "There’s about ten grievers around this corner he says we're going to have to take them on."

Screaming a death cry the teens charge at the grievers I take one on by my self-bringing my knife down on the grievers protruding arm. The knife flicks out my hand, spinning along the floor yelping i fall backwards and reverse along the ground as the griever comes at me at full speed. suddenly out of nowhere newt jumps in front of me landing head first in the grievers flesh, I scream jumping up and running around the back of the griever, finding and pulling at the handle I continue screaming, but as if killing someone made the griever stronger the handle stood firm. Screaming in frustration tears stream down my face, yanking it once more then falling back onto the floor. Tears are flowing freely now I sit there whimpering.

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