⁰⁰     ▇ ¨. ༢ ͎۪۫ 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 ... ❜

━━  ❛  the 𝒎𝒂𝒛𝒆. ❜  ‧˖˚. ☄︎ ͎۪۫ ◞⁺.
❪ part 02. location: the maze.
©kiiizones, all rights reserved ❫.

             𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑺 𝑮𝑶𝑻 𝑻𝑶 her feet, wiping her hands on her leggings. There were small cuts and bruises on her hands and shoulders from where she'd hit the floor ungracefully, and she turned to shoot a glare at Thomas.

His mouth was hung open in shock — eyes wide, like he'd been expecting anything different. "What?" He asked, voice desperate. Minho slumped off of his knees, wincing.

"Wow," said Emis, "I can really see why you're Keeper of the Runners. Positivity, encouragement. You bring the whole package deal." It was true, she was trying to stifle her fear by acting nonchalant. But she enjoyed throwing a dig at Minho for the hell of it. The least it could do was ease the heavy tension.

He gave her a withering look, wiping his sweaty hands on his trousers. "What happened to him?" Thomas asked. Emis had almost forgotten that Alby was there; the thrill of finally stepping into the Maze, the fear of being trapped there overnight, the effort to keep herself as calm as possible — they'd all outshone the reason why they were here in the first place.

Minho didn't look up. His tone was filled with sour. "What's it look like? He got stung."

Emis felt her heart sink. Stung. First it was Ben. Were the Grievers going to pick them all off like flies in a spider's web? She shuddered as the image of her bare hands tearing through its rubbery flesh rose to the front of her mind. Thomas shifted forwards on his knees. He gestured to the glistening red welt on the side of Alby's head. "What happened to his head?" He asked.

Minho glanced down at the wound, swallowing thickly. "I did what I had to do." He said, after a moment's hesitation. Emis swallowed. He still breathed heavily.

Before she could reply, a loud echoing wail burst into the air. It shook the walls and the ground, just enough so that the world went askew for a moment. Emis dug her ear into her shoulder, wincing at how uncomfortable the sound was. The pain wasn't nearly as bad as it had been before. It was bearable if she held her breath.

"Okay." She heard Thomas say to himself. She watched as he thought hard for a moment, eyes darting all over the place; to Alby's body, to the fork in the passage in front of them, to Minho. "Okay," he repeated, "Help me get him up."

Emis moved onto her knees, going to help, but stopped when she realised Minho had stood up, and was walking away from them. "Are you going somewhere?" She asked, tone sharp with accusation.

He stopped, turning back to face them for a split second. He shook his head. "We gotta go," he said urgently, "the Maze is already changing." He turned to walk away again.

"Hey, Minho!" Thomas said, voice cracking. Minho stopped, swallowing. He turned back again, fists clenched. She could tell he was itching to run off and leave them — they were dead weight. Amateurs. Only going to get him killed faster. Thomas pleaded with him, voice softening. "We can't just leave him here." There was a moment of thick silence, save the vines clambering up the concrete walls that were teeming with insects.

She resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief as he marched over to them. "Alright," he said gruffly, glancing over his shoulder behind him. "How do you kids wanna do this?"

𝑻𝑯𝑬 Maze was baking hot, like all the warmth from the evening had gotten stuck between the walls. Hands occupied with supporting Alby's weight, Emis couldn't reach up to wipe the sweat off of her face.

Sunlight smacked against the walls in blocks of yellowy gold. The angles of how the Maze twisted cast huge geometrical shadows against the walls, providing the uneasy feeling that they were moving in a circle. But Minho would bark directions at them every few paces, so it appeared they were actually moving on. It just didn't seem like it to Emis.

The Maze was crawling with life. Everything seemed to be coated in a glossy layer of wet. The moss and grass growing through cracks in the floor, the concrete walls, the huge climbing plants that almost carved into the walls, they were so heavy and thick. Occasionally, there'd come the shriek of a Griever in the far distance. Emis had almost gotten used to it. Almost.

Minho stood at the front, hands gripping onto Alby's legs either side of his waist. Emis held her arms tucked around Alby's chest, and Thomas hauled his shoulders up behind her. His weight often threw them off-balance, wobbling them into a corner or through a grimy puddle on the floor.

They rounded a corner, shifting the weight unequally so that it almost all landed on Minho. Emis tried to pull it back as quick as she could, but he had already stumbled forwards. He cursed. "Just set him down," he said, propping Alby against the wall, his head lolling to the side. "Set him down."

Both Thomas and Minho panted heavily, taking deep gulps of air to try and even their breathing. Thomas slumped onto the floor, shuffling to lean his back against the wall next to Alby. Emis wasn't nearly half as exhausted as they seemed to be. The only thing she could feel was a slight tingle in the muscles in her arms and legs. For some reason, it made her feel guilty that this was somehow easier for her.

A loud screech echoed off the nearest corner. Emis jolted, head whipping round as it broke the silence. It died out, but she could feel every nerve inside her body fizzing with energy. Her stomach lurched.

"This isn't gonna work." Minho said from behind her. She turned to look at him as he straightened up. "We gotta go," he said, stumbling backwards, "we gotta go—!"

"Wait, wait —" Thomas interrupted him. "Minho, what're you talking about? Man, we gotta do something we gotta hide him, we gotta —"

"Where?" Minho's rising panic was disconcerting. He raised his eyebrows, challenging Thomas. The latter stared at Minho, half-speechless. If Minho didn't know where to hide Alby, then they were facing either leaving him here to be slaughtered, or hauling his body half across the Maze while attempting to keep themselves alive. It was a lose-lose situation, either way.

"Minho, just think —" Thomas said, "You're telling me there's not a single place we can take him?"

Minho growled through his teeth, whirling on Thomas. His hands went to the neck of his shirt as he shoved him up against the wall. "Listen to me, shuckface, alright?" He hissed, "Take a look around! There's nowhere to go!" He let him go feverishly, standing back. "You don't get it." He spat vehemently. "We're already dead."

There was another low, dull rumble of concrete dragging over concrete. The stench of asphalt and gasoline still clung to the air like the sweat on their foreheads. Emis had to resist the urge to gag as it filled her throat.

Thomas ignored Minho's outburst of his admittance to defeat. He stood up, shouldering past him, and was staring at the wall behind him with his brow furrowed. He turned back to face them. "The vines." He said, "The vines. They're like ropes. We can use them to tie him up high enough that they won't see him, right? We can leave him here till the morning, can't we?"

Minho shook his head. "You're crazy," he said. "Both of you."

Emis glared at him. Thomas shrugged. "You have any better ideas?" He asked. Minho didn't reply.

"Come on, then." Emis broke the silence. "Let's get this done before they come back, if that's okay." Minho glared back.

They managed to loosen a handful off the side of the wall. Thomas tied it across Alby's chest and around his waist, pulling tight so that it was secure. By using one of the other vines, Thomas managed to craft a makeshift belay. Emis and Minho stood back against the opposite wall, letting him work. He was so deep in hurried concentration he barely noticed them. The process was too slow. Be the time he was done, the sun had completely disappeared, drenching the Maze in a watery darkness. The faint light that the moon threw out cast blocks of silvery grey across the floor. When he'd finished, he stood back a step. "Right," he said, "right, now help me lift him. Come on —"

Together, the three of them managed to hoist Alby into the air. Thomas counted them in before each tug on the climber. Emis could feel burning in her forearms and legs as she pulled, his weight swinging against the concrete difficult to control. They managed to lift him about halfway, before the next guttering shriek sounded.

It was accompanied by the familiar sound of a wall slotting slowly into place, stone scraping with a low rumble against the floor. Emis felt Minho freeze behind her. She could hear his panicked, uneven breathing as he tilted his body to the side, glancing down the passage that they'd come down earlier. In the darkness, everything looked a thousand times worse. The plants twisting in the breeze seemed to hide monsters behind their leaves. Every sound was amplified, as if all her senses had doubled their strength. And the smell was strongest it had ever been, filling her lungs like smoke. "Minho," Thomas hissed, "What are you doing — wait, what are you doing?" Thomas asked hurriedly, voice getting louder as Minho seemed to loosen his grip slightly. "What are you doing?" He almost yelled it. Minho wasn't listening to him.

Emis heard a new sound this time. The clank of steel as it clattered onto the floor. And a low, rumbling growl. She felt her blood freeze in her veins, her vision went bright. Suddenly, the darkness didn't matter. In fact, to her, it was practically day. The only difference was is that there was no yellow sunlight. Everything was tinted a dull red again. She hissed through her teeth — something about that sound had obviously triggered something inside of her. A warning.

"We gotta go —" Minho breathed out heavily.

"What —?"

"We gotta go right now —!" He said shakily, moving as if to let go.

"No, no, Minho —"

"No, we gotta go —"

"Just a little more, and then we'll tie him off okay?" Thomas battled with him, desperate. Emis grunted, yanking back.

"Minho, just hold on —" she tried, but it was no use. His breathing had gotten louder, he was muttering under his breath, terrified. Thomas pleaded, telling him to hang on. Just a little longer. Emis could tell it was hopeless.

"I'm sorry, Greenie." Minho said, resigned.

"What —?" He let go. Without his anchorage, the whole thing slipped forwards, the belay falling as Thomas and Emis flew out. She dug her feet into the ground, trying to set herself firm against the floor. The climber snagged back, stopping mid-slide. Emis breathed out shakily. That could've been a very costly mistake. There was another echoing shriek, followed by a dull, rumbling growl. It was so close now, Emis could feel her heart jumping up her throat.

As Thomas had slipped forwards, his foot caught underneath the wall, in a small hole big enough for one person. Maybe two, if they were small as Emis. He looked at her over his shoulder. "Come on!" He mouthed. Still hanging onto Alby, they slid into the crevice. It was a tight fit, their legs and arms tangled together and she could feel his cold breath against the nape of her neck. She shivered, tightening her grip on the rope. For some reason, she thought of Newt. She felt guilty, somehow. Being pressed up this close against someone else.

The thought quickly vanished as another loud clank of a metal leg against concrete floor sounded. It was loud in her ears, she could feel her body trembling. She clapped a hand to her mouth, trying to make her breathing less easily heard.

The Griever clattered past them. But it took its time, like it knew that something was off. It whirred and clicked, metal stiff as it carried it along. Emis felt her empty stomach clench. She would've thrown up if there had been anything in there. The sounds it made were so familiar, sending chills rolling up her spine.

Its steel limbs thudded onto the ground. As it came near to the hole, it stopped. Emis felt her breath catch in her throat, squeezing her eyes shut tight and praying for it to carry on. It let out a low, shuddering growl. And then it carried on, stomping its legs against the cracked floor. Emis didn't move until she heard it shriek into the distance. She felt her whole body deflate with a sigh of relief. "Okay," whispered Thomas behind her. His voice was shaky — in fact, she could feel his whole body trembling. "Emis, go, quick — we gotta tie him down. Come on." She scurried out of his way, still clinging onto the vine. "Here, give it to me." He said, holding out a shaky hand.

"Are you sure —"

"Emis, give me the plant, hurry!" He snapped, beckoning with his hand. Caught off-guard, she handed it to him immediately. He struggled for a beat with the weight, but managed to hold himself up. He brushed the vines and plants out of the way of a longer, stronger looking end of the plant. It was buried into the ground, stubborn as it couldn't budge an inch. "Okay," he said, "Come on." He urged it, standing up, wrapping the plant in thick damp knots around the fat, balky reed. Emis felt her skin go hot, something twinging at the back of her head. She felt her body go alert all over, like it was sensing something nearby. "Thomas," she hissed, "move!" Gripping onto his sleeve, she managed to yank the pair of them round the side of the wall and into the next passageway, just in time. She heard the Griever scuttle into the passage opening; it had heard them. It knew they were there. She held her breath, lifting a shaky finger to her lips as she glanced at Thomas. He nodded, pressing his body back into the wall, trying to extinguish any space between it. The Griever let out a shuddering growl, emitting sounds like it was breathing in and out harshly. But Grievers couldn't breathe. They were robots, right? Whatever the sound was, it seemed as if it was smelling them out, inhaling their scent thickly as if they were a badly addictive drug. It clanked onto the floor again, moving away slowly. The silence dissipated, the air coming alive again with the sounds of insects, as if everything had been holding its breath.

Slowly, Thomas turned his head round the side of the wall, swallowing thickly. He stepped out tentatively into the passageway, nodding to let Emis know the coast was clear. She made to step forwards, when a loud screech interrupted her. It was followed by another deep, rumbling sound of a distant wall dragging across the ground as it shifted position.

Emis swallowed, glancing over her shoulder. As far as she could see, the passage was clear. The night-vision had flared off, blinding her again. Moonlight bounced of the walls, casting eerie milky light scattering across the floor. The rest of the passage seemed swallowed in the thickest shadows. "This way," she whispered, "I think it's clear."

"Stay behind me," he said in a low voice. She found it irritating that he saw her still as someone who needed protecting. She knew she was fully capable of protecting herself; at least, she hoped she was.

They descended down the passage, footfalls echoing loudly against the silence; in the distance she could still hear the loud rumble as the Maze changed, . Thomas's breathing was loud and heavy, ricocheting off of the walls around them. With every pace he would take a glance behind him, staring past Emis to scour the dark behind her, checking for any signs of movement. He was so preoccupied with staring behind him that he nearly slipped over something gooey that was plastered to the ground. Emis crashed into him; she'd also been looking over her shoulder. "Sorry." She mumbled. He didn't reply, he was shaking the goo off of his foot, wincing as it squelched underneath the sole of his shoe.

The yellowy, phlegm-like substance that he'd stepped in gave off a foul smell; it was strong and harsh as Emis breathed it in. It stunk of rotting flesh and mould, and burnt oil and gravel. Suddenly, the red-tinted night-vision flared back on, like a switch being flicked. She could feel her body tingle all over, veins fizzing with adrenaline. Next to her, she felt Thomas tense. A trail of the same sticky substance slobbered across his shoulder, falling onto it from high above his head. Emis tilted her head upwards, swallowing as the Griever slammed into her view. It felt like her heart was just a hum by now, it was beating so fast — "Thomas," she said, "Thomas, run—!"

The Griever crashed onto the floor in front of them, emitting a loud, gurgling roar. Emis felt her blood boil. Thomas was on the floor, the impact blowing him off of his legs. He crawled away, complete terror turning his face a washed-out grey. Hurriedly, Emis grabbed onto his shoulders, hauling him onto his feet. He stumbled as she shoved him behind her. "Go!" She roared, shoving into his shoulders again. He threw the Griever another fleeting glance, before turning back and pushing off into a run.

Emis didn't look behind her as she ran; she could hear it — the familiar thumps of its legs and arms clattering onto the floor, its raging, piercing screeches as it chased behind her. She felt her whole body ignite with a new type of energy. She could feel her heart almost vibrating in her chest, the space of skin between her shoulder blades was soaked out with sweat. She felt the ground pulse through her feet as they slammed into it, the tremors climbing up her legs as she ran.

They turned a corner, the Griever rushing towards them. They darted into the next passageway, and it skidded, galloping back the way it had come. They turned the next corner, Thomas yelled out as it crashed in front of them. It knew these passageways like a second language. It had hundreds of possibilities to back them into a corner and trap them in; whereas they, lost in an almost alien world, were stuck with darting into any free passageway to escape. Emis could only hope that it hadn't called to its friends to come and help it out.

The passages were confusing; some were bathed in moonlight, some drenched in dark shadows. They seemed to copy each other, the only differences were the vines that clambered up the sides. Thomas led the way, Emis following right behind him.

He dashed into a shorter passage, skidding to a halt. It was a dead end — but there were still vines plastered to the walls. "This isn't over yet." Emis said, "Come on, move it, Thomas — climb!" Just as she said it, the Griever clattered into view, shrieking. Thomas stepped up, using the plants to pull him up. Emis followed after him.

The wall was shorter than the others, stopping and flattening out onto a ledge. Thomas rolled over onto his back, scrambling onto his feet and reaching a hand down for Emis. She brushed it away, shaking her head. "Go!" She hissed, and he turned to run behind him. There was a wide gap in front of him, his feet skidding dangerously close to the edge. He leapt onto it, Emis hot on his trail. He rolled onto his side, getting back up on his feet. Emis shot a look behind her, the Griever's pointed arms and legs slamming into the ground where her feet had been a split second ago. She felt a snarl curling around the back of her throat, swallowing it down and pushing herself forwards. Thomas stopped again, and she crashed into his back, fingers slipping on his shoulders.

They'd reached a ledge; and in front of them was another towering wall crawling with foliage. It was at least a two-metre jump into a wall that may not support their weight anyway. "We have to jump." He said. She looked at him as the Griever rolled towards them, taking a step back towards it. "You go first," she said, breath shaky. "I'll get us some time?"

"Emis —"

"Jump, now!" She turned just as the Griever was upon her, throwing her hands forwards.

Her strength carried it at least ten feet back, slamming it into a wall. Dust fell from the cracks and she could feel the ground shake underneath her. She turned back to throw a glance at Thomas, who had pinned himself successfully onto the wall opposite by gripping tightly onto the vines. Relieved, she spun her gaze back onto the Griever. She snarled as it let out a high, gurgling wail of pain, hissing and screeching as it got back on its feet. Not wanting to miss her chance, she turned and ran, feet kicking off the edge as she threw herself over the towering drop.

She slipped on the vines, grabbing wildly until her hands found an anchor. Too late, the Griever had launched itself into the air above her, slamming into the wall. Thomas yelled out in alarm, grabbing her ankle and yanking as hard as he could out of the way. She lost her grip, feeling her stomach flip as she fell free into the air for a second, before her body crashed back into the wall at full strength. The impact made the wall tremble, the Griever slipped and lost its footing, plummeting towards the ground. It dug a huge gash into the side of her arm as it clutched at the air for support, and she cried out. As it fell, it took half the foliage with it, ripping the pair of them off of the wall like band-aids. They crashed into the floor, the fall not as far as she'd imagined it to be. She stood up, wincing as her arm pulsed with the sting as blood flowed out of the wound. She held onto it, pressing into it to keep it sealed. It was supposed to heal shut, so why wasn't it?

The Griever seemed to have gotten itself tangled into the plants, and it was roaring angrily as the plants' strength caged it in. Emis could've laughed — at least they knew Alby's weight wasn't enough to snap them. "Emis!" Thomas roared, "C'mon!" He shoved her forwards, pushing her towards the next passage.

Emis glanced over her shoulder as the Griever let out another guttering wail, which is why she didn't see Minho as she slammed into him. "Hey." He said; she freaked, jumping back a few feet. He laughed in bewilderment. "You guys are crazy —" he sounded half-admiring, half-astonished. "Emis!" He said, "Your arm —" he stared at the red oozing out between her fingertips with his mouth half-open.

"It's fine," She cut him off brashly, "It'll heal." I hope.

"Hey, look." Thomas said hurriedly. She glanced over her shoulder; the Griever was almost completely free, starting to advance on them again.

"Okay, come on —" Minho breathed out heavily, "Follow me, come on!"

They raced after him, and Emis could feel, suddenly, the tingles up the side of her arm. And then a flush of heat as the skin stretched over itself, cleaning the wound and restoring it to normal. She released her arm, wiping the blood on her legs as she pushed forwards.

They turned into another adjacent passage, clothed in darkness, and she could hear the Griever break free behind her, clattering towards them. There was a loud, dull thud, the sound of a trigger clicking off. And then the slow creak of dusty cogs shifting into gear, walls beginning to rumble. "Okay, it's changing. It's changing." Minho said. There was a new energy to him; it was less resigned and defeated, like he actually believed they would survive. It was enlivening, filled her with a sense of self-belief and confidence. Like she was unstoppable. This was what made him Keeper of the Runners. "Come on," he said, "This Section's closing," he put on a burst of speed. "Come on! We can lose it down here." He turned a corner, and Emis faltered.

A huge portion of the wall had come loose; it was dragging slowly across the damp concrete, inching closer to the wall on the other side. Emis made to follow after Minho, who'd reached the other side, but paused when she heard Thomas stop walking altogether. She turned to glance over her shoulder. "Thomas ... ?" she said, trailing off.

He could barely hear her. He was staring down the passage they'd just come from, eyes glued intently onto something.

"Thomas." She pressed. He hushed her.

"No, wait — trust me." He said. "You go, I'm right behind you." He turned his head in her direction. "Go, I'm coming."

She hesitated — this was either him being ridiculously smart or ridiculously stupid. She favoured the former as she finally turned to run through the gap between the closing wall. She reached Minho, who was staring at Thomas with his brow furrowed.

"What the hell is the slinthead doing?" He muttered under his breath. Emis swallowed.

"I don't know," she said, "but it had better work. Otherwise he's dead meat."

Minho nodded. "You can say that again."

A huge roar interrupted the brief silence.

"He's gonna get himself killed!" Minho said, shifting on his feet as the Griever stormed down the passageway, "Thomas!" He yelled, "What are you waiting for?! Get out of there!"

Thomas was alert all over. Emis had to move past the closing wall to be able to see him — this was going to be very tight.

"Come on!" Thomas said, shifting. Emis heard the Griever shriek one final time, and then Thomas was running. And the Griever was powering full speed towards him.

"Come on, Thomas!" Minho yelled, "Don't look back! Run!"

Emis took a step forwards reflexively, preparing to grab him at whatever cost. "Move it, Thomas! Go!" Minho continued to shout after him, roaring over the sounds of dragging stone and the clash of the Griever's body thudding against the walls. "Move your ass! Okay! Come on, Let's go! Thomas!"

Thomas pushed against the walls as it closed in on him, grunting as he powered himself forwards. Emis reached out, grabbing onto his shoulders, and yanking him back. They all stumbled backwards, Thomas rolling onto the floor. The door slammed into the Griever; it let out a final screech before getting crushed between the two walls. Its limbs stuck out at odd angles, sharp moonlight glinted off the edges. The sound of its impact echoed up and into the air, sending tremors through the ground. It didn't move. It was dead.

⁰⁰   ❛ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆  . . .☄︎ ⋆࿐໋ ˖

                    thomas is smart but he's also dumb as heck???? a very exciting chap for u all tonight, i hope u enjoyed!! like i said, chapters might be slower from now on because i have a shitload of work to do but, as promised, i will try my best!! next chapter is going to b: angst ..... ( i love you all skdjdj )

love, 𝒓𝒊𝒓𝒊. *♡・.