A/N: This is a work of fiction that I wrote before reading Dashner's books and later adopted his characters into. All characters belong to James Dashner and his universe of The Maze Runner. No infringement intended.

A piercing electronic shriek ran through his mind and he woke. Harsh fluorescent lights greeted his eyes and he groaned, shutting them immediately. He lifted his arm to rub his eyes but he could not move. He looked down at his wrists and was horrified to see metal cuffs running up and down his body, restricting his limbs. The once steady *beep beep beep* that pulsed gently from the corner of the small room began to quicken. His heart began to race in panic.

He stained against the cuffs holding him in place but to no avail. He grunted and balled his fists in frustration, trying to gain some, any kind of leverage against the shackles. He sucked in air to expand his chest and strained further against the metal, but he was once again unsuccessful. He realized he wasn't going anywhere soon and took deep breaths to calm his pulse.

Gazing around the brightly lit room, he realized he was in some sort of medical room. He was lying down in a cot and wore what looked like a hospital gown. The room was bare, save for the EKG that sat in the corner and the IV rack that stood next to his cot. The walls and ceiling were stark white, except for a simple door that was a contrasting light gray. There were no windows. The faint pungent smell of antibiotics hung in the air.

Where am I? he wondered. His stomach groaned and he quickly realized it was from hunger. When was the last time I ate? And what time is it now?

There might be someone coming back. He couldn't wait for whoever it was who put him there to return and do who knows what to him. He took a closer look at the cuffs restraining him. They appeared to be made of solid steel, it's dull silvery sheen glistening with the lights overhead. There was a break in the cuff that must have been where the two halves connected. Opposite the break was another piece of steel that was welded to the table. They were fitted tightly around his wrists and he realized the solid steel construction meant he could not simply slip out.

He strained his arms and a soft click echoed in the room. He looked down in surprise at his right arm as the entire cuff came free, the latch still closed and locked into a ring. He quickly reached over and felt around the cuff on his wrist, finally locating the release button. With both his hands free, he made short work of the other restraints on his body. He slowly removed the IV from his arm, wincing as he did so. He jumped out of the cot and carefully stepped toward the door. The white linoleum tiles were cold under his feet. His footfalls were surprisingly loud in the stretched silence. He turned the handle of the door slowly and it obliged, swinging open with ease.

He was in a long corridor that was painted a gray-blue hue. The corridor was about the width of the door and several times the length of the previous room. A single panel of light flush with the wall illuminated the long hallway. A door lay on the end of the hall, but he had a feeling it would be locked. Sure enough, when he walked up to the door and jiggled the handle, it didn't budge.

He knew he was missing something. Someone had locked him up in that room and he had to find out who. The answer had to be behind the door.

His first instinct was to kick down the door. He backed up for some momentum and charged forward, firmly planting his heel into the door. The door shook, the echoes quieted, and the way was still shut. Again and again he threw his weight forward but the door stood unmoving, as if mocking his feeble attempts to break free.

He looked at the light panel and an idea grew in his mind. He looked closely at the plastic shield around the lights and noticed it could be removed. He gave the panel a solid kick and the plastic cracked along the edges. He then carefully removed the fluorescent tube, dimming the area substantially. He placed it on the floor gently and took another look inside the exposed light box. The only light came from the room behind him but it was enough. To his delight, a solid copper wire ran from the main power grid to the back of the panel. Running back inside the previous room, he grabbed all the sheets off the bed and wrapped his hands in them, careful to avoid electrocuting himself. He grasped the solid wire and pulled, pressing his feet against the wall for more leverage. Finally, the wire came loose and he fell against the opposite wall, exhausted.

He knelt at the locked door and inserted one end of the wire and pulled sideways. He took the other end and straightened it. He made a short hook in the end of the wire and inserted that end into the lock, raking it back and forth. A very improvisatory lock pick.

After what seemed like hours of pulling and raking and twisting, he was rewarded with the glorious sound of a lock clicking. He delicately turned the knob and to his hushed excitement, it opened.

He found himself in another long corridor, except this one had a large door with a circular window at the end. As he approached it, a shadowy figure moved past the window and he dropped to the floor immediately. His heart was racing as he stared at the window, hoping that figure didn't see him or return. He wished he could sink into the floor and become an invisible flatness that would make him safe from the watchful eyes of whoever was behind the door, but the best he could do was slink closer to the wall.

He waited at the door, watching through the dusty window. He saw a person move across the door and he pressed himself further against the wall to minimize his profile. The person continued walking past and paid him no attention. He continued waiting by the door, taking into account his surroundings. The boy walking around the door was of average height and build, sporting a crew cut that was starting to get a little long. He turned his back.

Then, he acted.

He slammed his body into the door which swung out into the person standing there. He heard a surprised grunt and saw the person fall to the floor. The boy with the crew cut looked up at him and tried to push himself away but was soon stopped when the he jumped on top of him, grabbing him by the neck.

"Where am I? What did you people do to me?" his words flew out with angry spit that landed on the other boy.

"Shucking get off me, Thomas!" the boy underneath him yelled, choking as the hands around his neck began to squeeze closed.

"Thomas...?" he asked himself, confused. The split second of confusion was a costly mistake and a fist greeted him in the face. He was still stunned from the blow when two more people ran over and tried to pull the two apart.

"Hey! Lay off him!" one of the other boys said.

He tried to reclaim his hold on the other boy's throat but someone held him from behind while another pried his hands apart. He kicked and struggled as he tried to maintain his hold on the boy but he was soon lifted off his feet and thrown across the floor. He slid into the wall near the sinks and found a pipe wrench laying against a pile of cleaning materials. He hefted it as he jumped to his feet, taking a defensive stance against the boy with the crew cut and his two friends. He stopped his approach when the one on the right lifted a rudimentary crossbow made from a length of pipe, cable, and a piece of wood carved into a barrel stock. A chunk of broken glass lashed to a stick sat loaded in the groove of the stock, pointing menacingly at him.

The one on the left spoke first. "Thomas, you need to sit down. I know you're confused but believe me, you need to rest for a moment."

Thomas. It wasn't until the boy called his name did he realize he didn't know his name.

"Who are you?" he pressed, stepping closer to them, hand gripping the pipe wrench tighter.

"I know you don't remember or believe us but we're your friends. My name is Alby, and the guy you just tackled is Gally. Now Minho is getting antsy with that trigger, so you should just do what I say and sit down."

"How can I trust you? For all I know, you put me in that room there!"

Alby breathed a deep sigh. "Honestly you can't trust us, but what's the alternative? If we wanted you dead, I could've had Minho shoot you the moment you walked through that door. I told you, we're your friends."

Thomas looked from Alby to Minho, to the kid with the crew
cut– Gally was his name, he supposed– who was rubbing his neck and glaring back at him as he sat down on a bench. Thomas realized he was somewhere that looked like a cafeteria, judging from the large open kitchen and the even larger room lined with tables and benches. A row of large square windows sat on the far end of the room, and darkness was all that loomed outside them.

"What is this place?" Thomas asked, slightly less accusingly.

"I can't give you an answer that will satisfy you but you're not alone on this one. None of us really know what this place is. We'll try to explain this to you the best we can but first you need to put that wrench down and trust me."

He walked over to Thomas and extended a hand. Thomas looked down at the pipe wrench he was still clinging to and hesitantly placed it on the floor, shaking Alby's hand. Minho was put more at ease by this and lowered his crossbow, disengaging the makeshift bolt and putting it in a quiver that hung loosely at his side.

"How did you get out of your room?" Alby asked. "You're not supposed to be awake for at least another 6 hours."

"For another 6 hours? How do you know that? And what is that supposed to mean?" Thomas raised his voice slightly. Clearly something bigger was going on than Alby initially let on.

A sudden boom from the other end of the cafeteria echoed through the room and the four boys were hushed into silence. There was a rapid pattering of feet and the sound of scratching along the walls. Alby cursed under his breath and motioned to Minho and Gally. Thomas stood there, trying to see what was going on past the window in the cafeteria door but Alby roughly dragged him by the arm into the kitchen.

He held a finger to his lips for silence. "We're in the middle of an attack. You seriously could not have come at a worse time."

"Attack? By wh-"

The slam of a door opening cut Thomas short. A soft moan emanated from that end of the room, carrying eerily over the silence of the empty night. The footfalls were uneven. Whatever was out there walked with a limp, Thomas thought.

Alby tapped Thomas on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow silently. Gally was already crawling through a small air duct in the wall, while Minho slowly loaded his crossbow, watching the entrance to the spacious kitchen. Alby gestured for Thomas to go through the duct first. Thomas crawled on the balls of his feet and his fingertips toward the air duct where Gally was slowly disappearing around a bend. Thomas was almost fully inside when his foot slipped on a puddle of grease, and he banged his leg against the walls of the duct, madly amplifying his ruckus. The creature out there let out a blood-curdling shriek and hobbled over to the kitchen with surprising speed. The creature's bulging bloodshot eyes turned at the group of boys frantically scurrying through the open air duct and it let out another shriek.

Then it ran for them.

"You shuck idiot, stop staring, run!" Alby bellowed.

Alby practically shoved Thomas through the small hole that would only allow them to enter single file. Thomas went into full panic mode and crawled through the hole faster than he had ever crawled in his life. His fingers clawed at the slippery surfaces of the metal surrounding him, and his feet kept slipping on the tractionless ground. His legs felt like they had turned to jelly from the sudden release of adrenaline throughout his system.

"Faster!" he heard Alby command.

He heard another shriek outside, but this noise sounded like it was in pain. Alby kept shoving Thomas's backside through the air duct and he kept moving until he heard a loud scrape of metal on metal followed by a hollow thump. He fell out of the air duct on his front and quickly flipped himself around and tried to stand up. He turned around to see Minho crawling through the same way, loading another arrow as he pushed himself away with his feet. Thomas realized Minho must have shot the creature as he crawled through, causing that awful shrieking noise. Minho gasped for air as he got up, the tip of his crossbow never leaving the entrance of the open air duct.

A horrifying screeching noise came from the other side of the air duct, and a manic banging noise followed. The screeching and banging faded and was replaced by a slow hiss that gurgled up from the creature's throat. Then the noise faded altogether. Gally sighed in relief and replaced the vent that covered the air duct. Alby shook his head in wonder.

"That was the closest I've been to one of those things in a long time. Thanks to you, Thomas, I'll start having nightmares again."

"Hey, it's not my fault that thing came after us! And what was that anyway?"

Gally pulled out a large machete from his belt. "That, my friend, is the reason you need to stay in your room until we release you. They're the monsters of this place. We don't really have a name for them but we like to call them Shriekers for obvious reasons."

They were standing in what looked like a food storage room. A large refrigerator door stood opposite the air duct, and a blueish glow from the temperature control panel gave the room its light.

"How did you get out of your room anyway?" Alby asked suspiciously.

"Doesn't matter." Thomas mumbled. Alby leaned in and cocked his head slightly in annoyance.

"Doesn't matter? I want to know how you broke out 6 hours ahead of schedule!" Alby's voice grew irritated.

Minho placed a hand on Alby's shoulder and pulled him from Thomas. "Keep it down, will you? We'll figure it out later. We need to bring him up to speed on things otherwise this little problem here-" he gestured making a swirling motion with his hand above Thomas and Alby, "-will cost us our lives."

"And our memories." Gally added.

"Our memories? But if you die-" Thomas started.

Minho looked at Thomas. "Something about this place is different. It's weird. Whenever someone dies, they come back to life a week later without their memories. You weren't supposed to come back until tomorrow morning."