Disclaimer: I do not own this amazing franchise know as the Maze Runner. All rights go to James Dashner, the author of the Maze Runner, and his publishing company whom he probably sold the rights to. This story is written purely for my entertainment with nothing to do with profit or recognition. "I write what I want to write, I write what amuses me, it's totally for myself."- J.K. Rowling
This is a story consisting of ten micro-fics, each exactly a hundred words. The first is called 'Childhood' and is followed by 'Family'. Each is based off the following prompts (that I made up) in the following order.
Imagining
Peace
Teddies
Chaos
Learning
Seduced
Pet-names
Seconds
Visits
Lasts
Childhood
A dap of apple sauce, a spoon of warm soup.
A word of small syllables, a pencil of red wax.
A step of tiny proportions, a stomp of great irritation.
A cry of considerable fear, a mumble of soft words.
A giggle of optimistic play, a whimper of saddened hearts.
A shout of fierce competition, a moan of defeated games.
A cheer of movies playing, a mouthful of buttery popcorn.
A roar of indescribable anger, a sob of broken minds.
A pen of black ink, a page of crisp white.
A form of inky words, a letter of hopeful dreams.
Family
A young and peacefully sleeping baby with a shock of beautiful blond hair curled on his side with chubby fingers clutching at his pale blue blanket. A proudly grinning mother stared down at the tiny form with her kind and beautiful blue eyes shining with delight. A new father with dark hair and warmth emanating from him wrapped an arm around his wife's thin shoulders. A dark-haired girl, the picture of her father, gazed down at her new little brother with absolute delight. Together the group gazed down upon the beautiful baby boy they had named Zakky.
Teddy-bear
A toddler gazed up a shelf where a soft, brown teddy bear sat with wide eyes. "Te-dy!" He gurgled in his high-pitched voice to his parents, a dark-haired man and blond woman.
"What's the magic word?" The baby's mother cooed.
"Te-dy! Zakky wants 'is te-dy!"
The pair exchanged concerned glances at their toddler's lack of manners. "No, Zakky. Please, the magic word is please. Please can I have my teddy."
"No pwease! Te-dy! Gi' me te-dy!"
"Cute Zakky!" The passing sister cooed. "Here's teddy!"
Two distraught parents gazed on.
Beginnings
"Ring around the rosie," a redhead murmured to her circling friends.
"No!" The blond boy shouted from his high window in London. "You'll get sick! It's air born now!"
"A pocket full of posie, ashes, ashes, we all fall down." The children crumpled to the ground with the last whispered word. They did not rise again.
"You'll get sick!" The blond implored again.
Abruptly, the window the boy had looked through slammed shut. "You'll get sick too, Zakky. There's someone here to speak to you."
"We're already dead," said a voice in the distance.
Do or Die
"You're here to learn, to be taught what we have to teach you and to learn what we have not. You will work hard and never falter. Those who do will be expelled immediately, left on the streets to be killed by a passing Swarm. Understood!"
"Yes ma'am!" The ringing voice of the class declared, none wanting to meet the terrors of the outside world.
"You are all intelligent, you are all agile and strong. Succeed, and you'll see the day when the Cure is cured. Fail and you'll be another cured, if you're lucky."
Acceptance
"Come on now, Newt, you don't want to be left out there, do ya?"
The blond glared back. "My name is Zak and nothin's gonna change that buggin' fact. Newt's not a name, Zak is a name."
The African-American boy across the table from Zak glared back in irritation. "Listen to me, Newt. I don't want to abandon my old name any more than you do. But I don't want you to die."
Newt's eyes softened at him. "Alby, I appreciate what you're doing- oh fine. Damn puppy-dog eyes."
"Hey Newt."
Nicknamed
"You need to chill out, Newt," Alby chided gently, one large hand resting on Newt's slim shoulder. "They're just a bunch of goddamn losers. Pay them no mind."
The blond boy glared at the other boy, venom in his eyes. "It's not you their bleeding teasing," he mumbled through a sore jaw. "Think m' bloody jaw's broke."
"It's not broken, Newt," Alby soothed with his hand caressing Newt's jaw. The blond leaned into the gentle touch. "There," Alby soothed lightly.
"Shut up Al," Newt mumbled quietly.
"I've got a nickname?"
"Just shut up."
Panicking
For a second time, he shot upwards. Panic and fear clawed at his heart like a cat clawing at a ball of yarn.
An eternity spread onwards like a field of grass before, bang, it all stopped.
A voice, soothing his fears as he stared upwards. A figure, hunched over gazed at him gently. "My name is Alby," the figure soothed. "Can you tell me anything about yourself?"
And he knew that everything would be alright with just those simple words.
"Who you are, where you came from?"
"My name is Newt," he replied.
"That's good, that is good."
Messages
"Hey," the tall and decrepit blond said. "If you're watching this, I'm dead. You need to know that there's still hope for the world. The Cure is out there, we just haven't found it. My friends, find a humane way to do this that doesn't drive the youth mad and doesn't make us mad. My family, I may not know or remember you, but I do know that I miss you. Keep this world safe. For me."
A saddened mother began to cry, quickly followed by her handsome husband and lovely daughter. "Oh Zakky."
Coffin
Lastly, a handsome young man lay still in his bed of white silk. His blond hair was clean and fluffy so that it hid the killing wound, a bullet shot to the side of his skull. Surrounding the coffin were two boys, the dead's closest friends, and a family. The father was tall and rugged with long limbs like the dead's. The mother was also tall with wavy dark hair. The elder sister was sobbing at the sight of her younger brother. Together, the five grieved silently for a young lad who had died far before his time.