( 12. wicked is good )

trigger warning: character death
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THE SLAMMER'S cold, damp air pressed in on Thomas, rousing him from unconsciousness. A low groan escaped his lips as he shifted, his body aching from the events of the previous night. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the cracks in the wooden structure.

The first thing he saw was Ellie. She sat across the small space, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her back straight against the wall. Her sharp eyes were focused on the door, her expression distant and lined with tension. Thomas didn't say anything, his gaze lingering on her as memories of what had happened started to surface.

"Hey," Teresa's voice cut through the silence, soft but filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

Ellie's head snapped toward Thomas at Teresa's words. She shuffled closer quickly, leaning forward with a mix of relief and irritation. "Slinthead," she muttered under her breath. "You scared us, you know."

Thomas blinked, his throat dry as he tried to form words. Ellie's sudden nearness caught him off guard, but her expression—a careful balance of annoyance and relief—somehow grounded him.

He groaned again, sitting up slowly and rubbing the back of his head. Everything ached, and his mind was still fuzzy. Before he could respond, Chuck's voice broke through sharply from outside the bars.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Chuck demanded, gripping the bars tightly. His young face was a mixture of frustration and fear.

Thomas shifted his gaze toward the group gathered outside. Familiar faces stared back at him: Newt, Minho, and Chuck. Their expressions ranged from worry to anger, but it was Newt who stepped forward, hands planted firmly on his hips.

"What happened?" Thomas rasped, his voice rough but steadying.

Newt's tone was grim. "Gally's taken control," he explained. "He said we had a choice: either join him... or get banished at sundown with you."

Thomas frowned as he processed the words, his mind still catching up. "And the others agreed to that?"

Teresa leaned forward slightly, her voice sharp and edged with frustration. "Gally has everyone convinced that you're the reason all this has happened."

Thomas dropped his head into his hands, frustration and guilt washing over him. "Well," he muttered bitterly, "he's been right so far."

"What are you talking about?" Minho asked in confusion.

Thomas hesitated before looking up, his expression raw and haunted. "This place," he began, his voice low and weighted, "it's not what we thought it was. It's not a prison. It's a test."

The air in the room seemed to still. Everyone leaned in, their attention solely on Thomas.

He took a deep breath, forcing the words out. "It all started when we were kids. They would give us these challenges. They were experimenting on us. And then people started disappearing. Every month, one after the other, like clockwork."

Newt's brows furrowed as he stepped closer. "They were sending them up into the maze."

Thomas nodded. "Yeah. But not all of us."

"What do you mean?" Newt asked, his voice cautious now, though a flicker of something—understanding, dread—crossed his face.

Thomas hesitated, glancing between them all. "Guys... I'm one of them. The people who put you here, I worked with them. I watched you for years. The entire time you've been here... I was on the other side of it. So were you," he added, his gaze locking on Teresa and then Ellie.

Teresa stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "What are you saying?"

Thomas hesitated for a beat before continuing. "Teresa and I—we helped build this. But you, Ellie... you were part of it too."

Her expression hardened, a sharp defensive edge creeping into her voice. "What are you talking about? I don't remember anything."

Thomas nodded solemnly. "I know. None of us do—at least, not fully. But I saw it. You weren't like me or Teresa. You weren't in on the planning or the experiments. You were... different. They made you part of this because you were valuable. You were a nurse."

Ellie blinked, her arms dropping to her sides as she processed his words. "A nurse?" she repeated, her voice laced with skepticism.

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Thomas pressed gently. "You're resourceful, calm under pressure. You care about people, even when you pretend not to."

Ellie let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "Great. So not only am I stuck in this nightmare, but I was helping them keep everyone alive while they ran their twisted experiments? That's just... fantastic."

Thomas looked down, guilt etched across his face. "I'm sorry. I don't know why they did this to us, but I know you didn't have a choice."

Teresa's voice broke the tension. "Why would they send us up if we were with them?" she asked, her tone sharp with frustration.

Thomas shook his head. "It doesn't matter. None of that matters anymore."

Newt stepped forward, his voice steady. "He's right. It doesn't matter. Any of it. Because the people we were before the maze don't even exist anymore. These Creators took care of that. What does matter is who we are now, and what we do... right now."

Thomas's shoulders slumped. "Yeah. But if I hadn't gone into the maze, Alby would still be alive."

"Maybe," Newt said. "But I know that if he were here, he'd be telling you the same thing. Pick your ass up and finish what you started. Because if we do nothing... then that means Alby died for nothing, and I can't have that."

Thomas nodded, swallowing hard as he absorbed Newt's words. "Okay," he said, his voice steadying. "But we gotta get through Gally first."

Ellie stood, her stance resolute as she crossed her arms again. "That piece of klunk isn't stopping us. Not anymore." Her gaze shifted toward the barred door. "Let's figure this out."

୨ৎ

As the sun dipped lower, the Gladers gathered near the main gate. Gally stood at the forefront, arms crossed, his voice loud and commanding. "This is such a waste!" he declared, his words dripping with disdain.

Winston hesitated beside him. "Gally... it doesn't feel right, man."

Jeff, standing nearby, spoke up as well. "Yeah, what if Thomas is right? Maybe he can lead us home."

Gally turned on them, his face dark with anger. "We are home, okay? I don't wanna have to cross any more names off that wall!"

He pointed toward the stone slab bearing the names of those they'd lost. His voice rose. "This is the only way. When the Grievers come, everything goes back to the way it was!"

Teresa, standing beside Ellie and Thomas, couldn't hold back any longer. "Are you listening to this?" she shouted, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "Why are you all just standing there? He's crazy!"

Gally stepped closer to her, his voice low and menacing. "You shut up."

"No," Ellie said sharply, struggling against one of the boys hands. "You shut up. You think banishing us is going to solve anything? The Grievers are going to come back no matter what. And when they do, everyone who stays here is going to die."

The tension reached a breaking point as Gally shouted, "Tie them up! Do you hear me? Tie them up!"

Thomas, who had been pretending to remain unconscious, suddenly sprang into action. With a swift motion, he pulled a hidden weapon from beneath his shirt. Ellie and Teresa followed suit, their movements synchronised as they pushed away from the boys who held them strong. The group stood in silence as Newt, Minho, Chuck and Frypan all joined their side.

"You don't have to come with us, but we're leaving. Anyone else who wants to come, now's your chance."

Gally took a step back, his sneer faltering. "Don't listen to him. He's just trying to scare you."

Thomas ignored him, his voice steady and commanding. "I'm not trying to scare you. You're already scared. I am too. But I'd rather risk my life out there than spend it here. This place isn't our home. We were put here. We were trapped here. Out there, we have a chance to make it out. And I'm taking it."

The silence that followed was deafening. Then, slowly, Winston stepped forward. "I'm with you."

Jeff followed, his voice steadier. "Me too."

One by one, others joined them, the tension breaking as they moved toward Thomas, Ellie, and Teresa. Gally stood rooted in place, his anger turning to desperation as he realized his hold on the group was slipping.

"Good luck against the Grievers," he spat, his voice dripping with venom as he turned and stormed off.

୨ৎ

The group moved quickly, their breaths coming in sharp gasps as they approached the maze's entrance. The sky above was an eerie shade of twilight, casting long shadows across the Glade. Ellie stayed close to Thomas, her hand gripping Chuck's tightly as they ran. The boy glanced up at her, his wide eyes brimming with fear. She squeezed his hand, her jaw set with determination.

They came to a stop beside the cold stone walls, the sound of metal scraping and clanging growing louder in the distance. Thomas peeked around the corner cautiously, his body tense.

"Is it a Griever?" Chuck asked, his voice trembling as he tried to peer past Thomas.

"Yeah," Thomas replied curtly, his tone steady but urgent.

Minho turned his head slightly, his expression grim. "Shit. You take this, Chuck," he instructed, handing the boy a small blade. "Stay behind us."

Ellie pulled Chuck closer to her side, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. "Stick with me, okay? I've got you."

Chuck nodded, clutching the blade tightly as his small hand trembled. Ellie offered him a quick, reassuring smile before turning her attention to Thomas, who motioned for them to move.

"All right. Let's go!"

The group plunged into the corridor, the oppressive walls closing in around them. The metallic screeches of the Grievers echoed ominously as the creatures skittered in the distance. One lunged toward them from the shadows, its razor-sharp limbs glinting in the dim light.

"Watch out!" Ellie yelled, shoving Chuck behind her as she swung her blade in a wide arc. The weapon connected with one of the Griever's limbs, severing it in a spray of sparks. The creature let out an ear-piercing screech and reared back.

Teresa darted forward, her weapon slicing cleanly through another limb. The creature flailed, dropping something as it retreated—a small, glinting object.

"The key!" Chuck shouted, darting forward before anyone could stop him.

"Chuck, no!" Ellie yelled, panic rising in her chest as she chased after him.

Chuck reached the key just as another Griever lunged from the shadows, its metallic limbs clawing at the air. He froze, terror rooting him in place, but Ellie was already there. She grabbed his arm and yanked him back with all her strength.

"Pull me up!" Chuck cried, his small frame dangling precariously over the edge of a deep drop.

"I've got you!" Ellie gritted her teeth, her muscles straining as she hauled him back onto solid ground. The Griever lunged again, but Ellie twisted her body, slamming the hilt of her blade into its head. Sparks flew as it staggered back, screeching in fury.

Teresa rushed to Ellie's side, grabbing Chuck's other arm and helping to pull him further away from the edge. "Are you okay?" Teresa asked, glancing between Ellie and Chuck.

"We're fine," Ellie panted, her grip on Chuck's arm unyielding. "Let's go before that thing comes back."

They ran past the others with the key, sliding it into a small slot in the wall. The maze groaned around them, the sound almost deafening as the mechanism began to shift.

"It works!" Chuck exclaimed, his voice filled with awe and relief.

The Grievers screeched in fury as they charged toward the closing doors. The group watched in tense silence as the massive stone slabs sealed together, crushing the creatures with a sickening crunch. A heavy silence followed, broken only by the faint, dying whirrs of the Grievers' mechanics.

"We did it," Minho breathed, his voice filled with disbelief.

"What now?" Newt muttered, his voice low as they stepped cautiously into the new hallway.

The group barely had time to celebrate before the space plunged into darkness. The air was thick and suffocating, their breaths loud in the silence. For a moment, nobody moved, their eyes darting around in the pitch black.

A faint clicking sound broke the stillness, and another door opened behind them, spilling a dim, eerie light into the corridor. They turned toward it, their bodies tense and ready for another fight.

The corridor was lined with pipes and wires, the faint hum of electricity filling the air. The walls gleamed with sterile metal, a stark contrast to the rough stone of the maze. The group moved slowly, their footsteps echoing in the silence as they reached a door marked with a single word: EXIT.

"Seriously?" Frypan muttered, his voice heavy with disbelief.

When they stepped inside, the first thing Ellie noticed was the blood.

It streaked across the tiled floor in dark, glistening trails. Shards of shattered glass glittered under the harsh fluorescent lights, while the cold, clinical hum of machinery punctuated the eerie silence. Bodies lay sprawled across the ground, motionless, their lifeless forms adding a chilling weight to the room. The air reeked of metal and death.

Winston was the first to speak, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes darted over the carnage. "What the hell happened here?"

The group fanned out cautiously, their footsteps hesitant. The high-tech equipment around them buzzed faintly, monitors flickering with static. Ellie kept close to Chuck, one hand gripping his arm protectively as her other hovered over the weapon at her side. Her eyes swept the room, taking in every detail.

Thomas moved toward a console near the center of the chaos. His fingers hovered over the controls before he pressed a button. The monitor flickered to life, and the room fell deathly silent as the image of a woman appeared on the screen.

Her voice was calm, deliberate, and in stark contrast to the horror surrounding them. "Hello. My name is Doctor Ava Paige. I'm Director of Operations of the World Catastrophe Killzone Department."

The group froze, their eyes glued to the screen.

"If you're watching this, that means you have successfully completed the Maze Trials. I wish I could be there in person to congratulate you, but circumstances seem to have prevented it. I'm sure by now, you must all be very confused... angry... frightened. I can only assure you that everything that's happened to you—everything we've done to you—was all done for a reason."

Ellie felt her stomach twist. Her jaw tightened as she glanced at Thomas, who stood frozen, his fists clenched at his sides.

"You won't remember," Ava continued, "but the Sun has scorched our world. Billions of lives lost to fire... famine... suffering on a global scale. The fallout was unimaginable. What came after was worse."

Chuck moved closer to Ellie, his trembling hand clutching her sleeve. She placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. She didn't look away from the screen.

Ava's voice droned on, detached yet haunting. "We called it the Flare. A deadly virus that attacks the brain. It is violent... unpredictable... incurable. Or so we thought. In time, a new generation emerged that could survive the virus. Suddenly, there was a reason to hope for a cure. But finding it would not be easy. The young would have to be tested, even sacrificed, inside harsh environments where their brain activity could be studied. All in an effort to understand... what makes them different. What makes you different. You may not realize it... but you're very important."

Ellie's breath caught in her throat. The words cut deep, the realization settling like a heavy weight in her chest. They weren't just prisoners—they were experiments.

"Unfortunately, your trials have only just begun," Ava said. "As you will no doubt soon discover, not everyone agrees with our methods. Progress is slow, people are scared. It may be too late for us... but not for you. The outside world awaits. Remember... Wicked is good."

The screen flickered, then showed Ava pulling a gun to her temple. Her calm demeanor didn't falter as she pulled the trigger. The group collectively flinched as her lifeless body slumped over, blood pooling beneath her.

For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the machinery.

"She killed herself," Thomas muttered, his voice laced with disbelief.

The deafening blare of alarms shattered the silence, red lights flashing as the door beside them hissed open. The group tensed, weapons raised instinctively.

Chuck's voice trembled as he clung to Ellie. "Is it over?"

Newt shook his head, his voice grim. "She said we're important. Well... what are we supposed to do now?"

Thomas's jaw tightened as he stepped forward, his voice firm. "I don't know. Let's get out of here."

Heavy footsteps echoed behind them. They turned to see Gally step into the room, his movements unsteady and his expression hollow. His voice was cold, detached. "No."

Thomas stared at him, his brows furrowing. "Gally?"

Teresa stepped forward, her tone sharp. "Don't. He's been stung."

Gally raised a shaking hand, revealing a gun. His eyes were wild, his voice trembling with anger and despair. "We can't leave."

Thomas raised his hands in a calming gesture, his voice steady. "We did, Gally. We're out. We're free."

"Free?" Gally spat, his voice breaking. "You think we're free out there? No. There's no escape from this place."

Ellie stepped in front of Chuck, her hand subtly tightening on his arm. "Gally," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest. "Put it down. You don't have to do this."

But Gally's eyes were unfocused, his grip on the gun tightening. "I belong to the maze now."

Thomas took a cautious step forward. "Just put down the gun."

Gally's hand trembled. "We all do."

The gunshot came before anyone could react. Ellie ducked instinctively, pulling Chuck down with her, but Chuck slipped from her grasp and darted in front of Thomas.

"Chuck, no!" Ellie screamed.

The sound of the bullet hitting him was deafening. Chuck stumbled back, a look of shock crossing his face as he crumpled to the ground.

"No!" Ellie's scream tore through the air as she scrambled to his side, her hands pressing against the wound. "Stay with me, Chuck. You're gonna be okay."

Thomas dropped to his knees beside her, his face pale. "Chuck? Oh, shit. Look at me, buddy. Just hang on, okay?"

Chuck's breaths were shallow, his small hand reaching out weakly. "Thomas..." he whispered, holding up the carving he had made.

"No, Chuck," Thomas said, his voice breaking. "You're gonna give it to them yourself. Remember, I told you that."

Chuck's hand fell limp, his eyes closing for the last time. Ellie let out a strangled sob, her hands trembling as she cradled him against her.

The sound of boots and shouted orders grew louder. Officers stormed in, grabbing Thomas and yanking him to his feet. He struggled against them, his voice sharp. "Don't touch her!" he shouted.

But the officers dragged Ellie back as she fought and screamed, tears streaming down her face. "No! Chuck! No!"

Thomas was shoved roughly toward the exit, pushed out into the scorching heat, while Ellie was dragged, kicking and screaming, after him. As they neared the helicopter, her strength gave out. The officers practically threw her inside, her body landing heavily on the floor.

"No!" Ellie tried to lunge for the door, but Thomas and Minho grabbed her, holding her back as the helicopter began to lift off. She sobbed against Thomas, her body shaking with grief and exhaustion.

Thomas's arm stayed firmly around her, his own tears falling silently as the Glade and the maze disappeared behind them. Neither spoke. The weight of everything they'd lost hung heavy between them, too crushing for words.

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