Your story begins only a day into life in the glade. You had just finished up the tour, which proved to be more tedious than you had expected. You were pushed into boy's faces, forced to shake hands, and dragged through the fields by the grumpiest shank in the whole glade.
Now you sat on the lookout, gazing out at the massive place. Boys rushed around with sweat glistening on their faces. It's a shame, you thought. None of them seem to catch my eye. They're all too... ordinary.
Ordinary? you realize. You snorted. This place was far from ordinary, considering that all the boys had been stripped of memories. Not to mention, the giant-ass maze that surrounded your new home.
Your gaze shifted to the opening. Beyond those walls was danger that you couldn't even begin to comprehend, yet you felt drawn to it.
A figure jogged out, then stopped. You squinted and leaned closer for a better look. No one should be out there.
Right, you remember. The runners. But you had yet to meet one of them. Curiosity got the best of you and you climbed off the lookout hurriedly, wanting to reach the boy before he left.
As you grew closer, you realized that something was terribly wrong. He seemed to be swaying from side to side, and his eyes were nearly closed. With a nearly inaudible groan, his knees came out and he fell into the grass.
You rushed over to find him sitting on his knees. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and his hands balled around the blades of grass beneath him. His eyes were closed tightly and his head was dipped to the dirt. You knelt down at his side and shook his shoulder lightly.
"Hey, hey, are you alright?" you asked. He groaned again, then lifted his head.
When his eyes locked with yours, the air was sucked out of your lungs and you were at loss for words. He was freaking hot, with spiky jet-black hair and asian features. What caught your attentions was his eyes, which mirrored precious blue jewels.
He smirked as he saw you, and blushed despite his already flustered face.
"Hey," he said, his eyes locked with yours. "you're the greenie huh? Y/N?" In that moment, God blessed you with the right words and you found strength to speak.
"Yup. And you are-"
He looked shocked by your question. "Minho. Keeper of the runners. I'm kind of the boss around here, though no one really wants to admit it..."
You chuckled and helped him stand. Even after he was fully up, you noticed that he lingered with his hand in yours for another moment before pulling away.
"So, um, do you always collapse when you get back from a run, or...."
"Something huge went down in there today," he said with a broad smile. He glanced around nervously, as if making sure that nobody was listening, then leaned closer to your ear and said softly, "we found a dead griever."
Upon hearing the word "griever" something in your head clicked. A phrase popped into your mind, and you knew it was something huge just by what it was.
The griever hole.
You shook your head and pressed your fingers against your temples. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, searching your mind for any sort of explanation. Minho took notice of your concentration and shook your shoulder lightly.
"Yo, you okay? Need to see a med-jack or somethin'?" he asked with furrowed brows. You shook your head to pull yourself out of your thoughts and focus on him.
"No, it's just... when you said 'griever'... something came to my mind."
Minho's eyes widened and he stepped closer, with a shadow of a smile plastered on his face.
"Really? What was it?"
"Just a little phrase. The griever hole. Not sure what it was, but I remembered it in a woman's voice... she seemed to be saying it like an explanation for something. Like it was the answer to a problem."
His eyes grew and shimmered. "Think it could be... the way out?"
"Maybe. I don't know," you sighed, brushing your hair out of your forehead. "It's all a blur. That's all I remember, sorry."
"Hey, dont be sorry. You just made my job a whole lot easier. Thanks, and I'll talk to the other runners about it." He flashed you one last, heart melting smile before turning and running back to the center of the glade.
Minho, you thought. He is one hot little shank.
"JANSON!" Ava screamed from her spot in front of the series of monitors. Janson was just across the hall, and scattered his papers all over his desk upon hearing the director's scream. She was rarely so outraged, and he was concerned.
"What's the matter?" he asked, glancing up at the monitor she was watching with furrowed eyebrows. It displayed you standing just outside the entrence to the glade, toying with your hair and bouncing on the heels of your feet.
"I'll tell you what's wrong! That little.... brat remembered the way out of that god forsaken maze!" she screeched as she gestured to the monitor in rage. "Minho said griever, and she remembered 'the griever hole' and told him!"
"Calm down, Doctor Paige. This is good. They get out sooner, give us more time to run tests on them."
"No, no, no. These tests, all of this, was designed specifically by the Psyches for a reason! We can't just skip around because this little witch remembers something every time she hears a new term!"
Janson had to resist the urge to roll his eyes like an exasperated teenager. "And what do you suggest we do?"
"You aren't going to do anything. I'm going to take Y/N out of the trials, and I know the proper way to do it."
Ben writhed back and forth in his bed in agony. It had only been a few hours since he was stung, and the memories flashing in his mind only seemed to make the pain worse. He was able to hold on to some of the images, the ones that seemed most important. One was of you.
You were a great ally of his before the maze. He remembered seeing you fighting against the WICKED soldiers who struggled to restrain you as you screamed for the others to revolt. He may have smiled if he wasn't in such indescribable pain.
A voice- a feminine, calm voice- echoed in his mind, temporarily distracting him from the pain.
"Ben, you need to kill the girl. She's a danger to you and your friends," the voice cooed.
No, he thought, hoping whoever was transmitting this message could hear him. She was my friend. She was a good person. I don't think you're right.
"You don't trust me?"
I don't know you. You're just a random voice in my head. Wait, you're a creator, aren't you?
"You are avoiding the question at hand. Are you going to stop this girl or not?"
Over my dead body.
"Suit yourself. I thought you may be able to do this willingly, but I suppose I'll just have to kill you and find a better person for the job."
Suddenly, there was an explosion of pain worse than he could comprehend. He cried out and started throwing his head back and forth. Tears streamed down his face, and he knew this was the end. Unless....
Wait, wait, stop! I'll do it, I'll do it, just gimme another chance... he screamed in his mind.
"Good."
Then the pain washed away. Ben opened his eyes, breathing heavily with sweat dripping down his forehead.
"Do as you were told, Ben. I can turn that back on with the click of a button."
Sweat beaded on your forehead as you tested the job of a builder. Due to your lack of strength, it was clear almost immediately that the job wasn't for you. The keeper, Gally, showed this very explicitly.
"Greenie, you grab this one and put it here, alright? No, not that, you..." he said, clearly frustrated by your lack of knowledge in the subject of building. He groaned loudly for maybe the fifth time that day.
"Chill out, Gally! I've been here for two days. I'm not sure you know how to count, but that's not a lot of time," you snarled. His face reddened and his fists clenched, yet you didn't regret your remark
"You're real shuckin funny, Y/N. You're also lucky that I don't hit girls," he said between clenched teeth.
"How gentlemanly of you," You mumbled with an eye roll.
"Take a break, greenie. You're doin more harm than good," he said, turning his back on you, and you could almost see the steam coming out from his ears.
You could've kissed him for the break if he wasn't so repulsive, as most of the gladers were. The only one that stood out to you in a romantic way was the keeper of the runners.
You sighed at the thought of him. You'd spoken a lot since the last interaction, which really excited you. There was no denying it: Minho was the one for you. But when would either of you make a move?
You walked to a bench and laid down, relaxing for the time given. You closed your eyes and lifted your legs up onto a rock. Folding your hands behind your head, you took a deep breath and all the stress from your day disappeared.
"Hey, y/n!" a familiar voice shouted. You turned to see Newt, the keeper of the gardens, jogging toward you despite the injury on his ankle that left him with a limp. You smiled at him as he approached.
"Sorry to bother you, but there's this guy, Ben. He got stung a while back, and he's gone."
"Is he dangerous?" you asked.
"Probably not, but you never know, right? Just keep an eye out," he said in his thick British accent.
"Will do. Thanks," You said, smiling. He smiled back and walked, or limped, away.
"You sleepin' on the job, greenie? You ain't fit for the builders, we'll find ya somethin else," Alby said. You groaned at the sound of his voice as you swung your feet of the rock and sat up to face the glade-commander-in-chief.
"Alby, I don't mean to be disrespectful or anything, but chill. I just worked my butt off for five hours straight with no breaks. And not only am I weaker than you all, but I'm new here. Cut me some slack," You said, closing your eyes and laying back onto the bench.
"Fine. But at least do it in the deadheads. Some of us need that bench for workin'" Alby snarled, turning his back on you and walking away.
As the sunlight poured in between the tree branches, you admired the beauty of the woods during the daytime. It almost seemed like an enchanted forest.
A figure grabbed you by the elbow. You instinctively turned around in a fighting stance, but the person standing behind you raises his hands, showing that he meant no harm.
"Hey... Y/N... I'm not here to hurt you," he said with a small smile. The boy was tall and muscular, giving you the idea that he was a builder or a runner. He was incredibly pale, his skin a deathly white color. His eyes had large shadows under them, showing you he'd suffered from a few days without sleep. His veins looked purple in as they bulged from underneath his skin.
"My name is Ben... I'm sorry... I just need someone to... to be with. Someone who won't... treat me like a threat," he whispered, stuttering after each syllable. You noticed pain and sadness underneath his fake smile, and you pitied him.
"It's okay," you replied with a bright smile of your own. He started walking and gestured for you to join him. A few feet ahead of you, you noticed a small patch of tulips. You bent down to smell them, the floral scent filling your nostrils and lightening the otherwise tense mood. Picking one of each color, you made a small bunch for the homestead.
Then, to your surprise, Ben tackled you. You tried to scream, but he covered your mouth with his shaking hand. His legs on both sides of your stomach, holding you down, he lifted up the other hand, with a jagged knife in his grip. A beetle blade watched from the treetops.
Tears streamed from his eyes. He muttered apologies, so low that the beetle blade surely couldn't hear what he was saying. He leaned in, close to your ear.
"Y/N.." he whispered betwen heavy, ragged breaths. "The creators... took over me... they're trying to make me kill you.. I'm going to pretend to.... you need to pretend to be dead until that beetle blade leaves... then run and hide from me! Hide from everyone in case they take over me again!"
You nodded, understanding. Ben lifted the knife over his head, then stuck it into the ground next to your stomach. Blood rushed out from the injury as you realized that the knife stabbed your stomach just enough so that blood would come out and it would look real, but no real damage would be done.
You screamed louder than you ever had before, then started thrashing wildly to convince whoever was watching through the beetle blade's camera that you were undergoing indescribable pain. After a good minute, you sucked in a large amount of air, then slowly exhaled to the give off the illusion that you had taken your last breath. Your eyes closed, but remained opened just enough so that you could see the beetle blade that was watching from the treetops.
After a good three minutes, it buzzed away. You laid in the grass in silence, listening carefully for the buzz of the beetle blade that would give you away to the creators.
Quickly, you got up ran into a nearby bush against the walls. You peeked out from in between the branches, searching for a place to hide from the other gladers. At first, you thought the treetops would be a good idea, but eventually a beetle blade would see you from there. Then, you thought of Frypan's kitchen. Maybe you could go onto one of the shelves and hide there? But sooner or later, Frypan would catch you there. Besides, each shelf was stacked with food. You'd never have room.
The gardeners shed? You could hide there! It was rarely used, since they pretty much used the same tools as the track-hoes and left them in the gardens. The shelves were huge, and you could salvage the supplies you need from a trustworthy glader for as long as necessary.
With your back against the glade wall, you slowly walked around the perimeter of the deadeads toward the shed. Then, when you were sure no one (or nothing) was watching, you dashed through the front door. The top shelves would be perfect for hiding from attackers/gladers, since you couldn't even see what's being stored from the ground.
A small crate sat in the corner of the shade. It looked perfect to use for getting up to the top shelf, so you grabbed it. But underneath the box was a hole going straight down, with a ladder attached. A basement of some sort? Intruiged, you climbed down, careful that you moved the crate over it as you did before.
You weren't sure what you expected, but for some reason what you saw took you by suprise. The walls were covered in wooden planks, making it look like an actual house. Makeshift beds from more pieces of wood and blankets and pillows on top were everywhere, with at least eight of them. The blankets were all over the floor, and clothes hang from the sides of the bed. Although it was a great looking area, the place was a mess.
In the far corner, one of the beds seemed like it hadn't been used for ages. There was a coating of dust on the blanket and it was perfectly made, unlike the others. After taking the dust off, you laid down on it and fall asleep without even realizing how tired you were.
~~~~~~
Frypan whistled to himself as he sauntered out of the kitchen. The sun was already beginning to set behind the maze walls, meaning that it was time for him and the rest of the small group of gladers to head back to their home.
Waiting outside were six other gladers: Clint, Jeff, Adam, Nick, Chuck, and Jack. The seven of them sinply didn't fit in the homestead, so they decided to create a smaller home in the basement of the track-hoe's shed. They found that it was far more comfortable than being squished together in small little hammocks in the homestead, and they enjoyed eachothers company. Of course, if anyone actually knew that they lived down there, they'd be in massive trouble. So, they waited until no one was looking to sneak off into their own, secret living quarters.
"Took you long enough," Jack muttered as he saw the cook leave the kitchen.
"Well I'm sorry, your highness. You shanks don't help me clean up the kitchen, but 'ya won't shut yer klunkholes when I come a little late," the cook replied impatiently. He stepped forward until he was only inches from Jack's face. "shut yer hole or you'll be havin dishwater and Bark's klunk for the rest of the month."
"Just slim it. Both of you. I'm shucking exhausted," Adam groaned. He lightly pushed Frypan away from Jack. "so let's just head to the shed and hit the hay, alright?"
Together, they walked through the darkness to the abandonded shed. Frypan pulled the key out from his apron to unlock the door, but something was off.
"Strange," Fry noted. He twisted the knob and the door swung open. "The door was already open."
The rest of the gladers glanced at eachother nervously. They always closed the door after leaving, otherwise someone would know they were in there. Meaning someone had opened the shed since the track-hoes stopped working. If someone-or something- was down there now...
"I vote Adam goes in first," Clint suggested, pointing at the tall, built, dark haired boy.
"Are you insane?" Adam replied, turning to glare at the med-jack. "No! Let Chuck do it! I'm like the second in command of the builders! That's kind of a big deal."
"Me? Why me? I've got my whole life ahead of me! I vote Nick," Chuck said as he crossed his arms. The group turned to the short, muscular, dark-haired builder named Nick, who just stood there with raised eyebrows.
"Fine," he groaned with an eye roll. He timidly knocked the wooden crate out of the way of the hole to the basement, then started climbing down. The other gladers were so silent with anticipation and anxiety, they could make out the rapid beating of Nick's heart as he descended into the dark.
"What the fu- GUYS! GET DOWN HERE!" he shouted. Frypan was first to react, jumping through the hole without giving his action a second thought. What could it be? Ben, the psychotic builder who had just gone missing? An army of wonky beetle blades? Or worse.... one of the keepers who would bust them for sneaking into the shed?
He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't what he saw. The messy, disgusting living space was completely immaculate. Each boy's clothes were neatly folded on their beds. Shockingly, the garbage that once scattered across the floorboards had actually made its way into the garbage can in the corner. They could actually walk two inches without stepping on trash or dirty clothes.
The boys huddled closely together, quivering with fear at the sight of the room. Seeing it in this condition was truly a miraculous sight.
"Someone was down here," Jeff stated as he scanned the room.
"Y'think?" you commented as you stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room. The boys jumped three feet into the air and screamed to the tops of their lungs. They even pushed Adam forward as if he would shield them from whatever dangers you posed to them.
"Seriously, guys?" he asked, glaring back at his "friends." He shook his head and met your eyes. "Y/N, right? What the hell are you doing down here?"
You paled. "Umm... it's kind of a long story..."
You went on to explain the dramatic scene from earlier. The boys eyes widened as they took in the full depth of the situation.
"I'm sorry, I dont mean to intrude, I refolded all your clothes and stuff... I'll do all the chores and stuff while you guys work all day, and it's only until Ben gets better, so..."
"Are you kiddin' me, girl?" Fry asked in astonishment. You tucked your hair behind your ear and dipped your head. It was a foolish idea anyway. "Of course you can stay with us!"
"Yeah!" Chuck added. He picked up the stack of folded clothes and studied it. "My clothes actually look decent. We could use a woman's touch."
"And you need our help. That's what gladers are for, helping others out." Adam added. He stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.
Your mouth dropped open in shock. Overwhelmed with gratefulness, your eyes began to water and you giggled. "Oh my goodness, thank you all so much! I promise, you will not regret this!"
"Of course not," Nick chuckled, swinging an arm around your shoulder. "Welcome home, Y/N."
The happy moment continued for a few minutes, before something urgent crossed your mind.
"Wait! You guys can't tell anyone I'm here! Not a single human soul! Understand?" you demanded. The boys glanced at eachother and nodded in agreement.
"Well, actually," you started as you remembered something. "maybe one other person..."
~~~~~
Minho paced back and forth in the map room, panic mounting in his chest. It had been a full day since anyone had seen you. Ben was found in the deadheads, insisting that they throw him into the maze for causing such trouble.
His eyes were closed and his head was dipped to the floor as he recalled the stung boys claims about the situation.
"I killed her... I killed her...." he was muttering when they found him. However, there was no bloody scene. There was no corpse anywhere. Something was terribly off about the whole situation.
It made him sick to his stomach. He'd never even admitted now dearly he loved you.
"Minho!" a familiar voice called. Minho turned around to see Jack. Minho barely knew him, but he wasn't in the mood to talk to any shank at the moment. He just needed to think.
"What the shuck are you doing in here? This is for runners only!" Minho snarled, coming forward to push the boy out of the building.
"There's something you need to know. I have a little message for you," the boy said. He took a deep breath and dipped his head to the floor. "from Y/N."
Wow, this took forever! Was it worth it? How do you think the story will go?
Guess you'll just need to wait and see! Mwahahahaa!