Hi to everyone who has decided to try this story.

Ok, so it's time for disclaimers:

I do not own any of the characters from the Maze Runner series and am not making any money from this story.

Fair warning, this story is a spoof, if you do not like reading spoofs you will not like this…

Some of this story references things out of the book version, extra points if you can tell which parts…

Hope you enjoy

How Maze Runner Could have Ended

Written by: Shadow2020

WICKED Headquarters, 24 hrs after the Gladers left the maze...

Ava Paige, director of WICKED, looked up from the mass of computer reports she had been reading and gazed about the hushed control room.

"These results from the brain scans look positive; however we must find more ways to induce stress. Remember a stressed brain is a productive brain!"

"Yes Madam Director," all the employees within earshot answered dully in unison.

"Now then, we need something especially scary for the next level. I want these kids screaming their heads off in horror, not yawning like that last group of beta testers! Remember, we want their brains to be stimulated to create lots of cure before we harvest them!"

"Yes, Madam Director," all the workers answered dully again in their usual response.

"Well, what ideas do you have for the next level?" she demanded, fixing a cold stare at the closest worker. "Well?"

"How about mutant goldfish with chainsaw arms?" he suggested.

"Tried that two months ago, next!" she answered.

"Give them an SAT test!" suggested the employee sitting next to him.

"They're geniuses, they like that kind of junk, next!"

"Polar bears with flame throwers?" suggested a third.

"Tried that three weeks ago, next!"

"Army ants in pizza boxes?"

"Hornets armed with Tasers?"

"A dragon with bad breath?"

"Give them pudding without any sugar in it?"

"Tried it, tried it, tried it, and who do you think we are, the school lunch lady?! We are WICKED; we are trying to save the world from a plague we created, by horrifying some defenseless immune kids. So get your heads in the game and tell me how we are going to ruin their lives! Honestly, things worked so much better when Thomas was here, he had such inventive ideas; not like you idiots!"

"How about we have Thomas' girlfriend smooch some other guy? That should stress him out," another minion suggested, spiteful of the words of praise for the former project leader.

"That is lame," she snarled.

"Ooh, how about she smooches the other guy while they pretend to kill Thomas?" another worker put in, hoping to get some recognition.

"Hmm, teens do obsess over minor issues like their dates cheating on them and death. We'll try it! You two," she ordered, "where are the Gladers now?"

The workers hurriedly typed various commands into the computers, only to turn around a minute later.

"We seem to have lost track of them," they reported sheepishly.

"How can you possibly have lost them? We gave them watches with tracking devices in them!" she demanded.

"We don't know, but security can't find them on any of the cameras," the worker reported back.

"Fine! I'll check out security myself!" she answered with a huff.

The Security Room #3 of WICKED Headquarters, five minutes later…

Director Paige marched into a room filled floor to ceiling with video monitors only to find them all displaying episodes of Gilligan's Island.

"What is going on in here?" she demanded angrily of the half dozen or so security guards lounging in their chairs watching the shows on the screens.

They rose to their feet as one. "Sorry Ma'am, the security system is down for repairs at the moment, we were just waiting for them to be finished," the head of security informed her.

"Who authorized that?!" she demanded to know.

"I thought you had," the guard stated, confused.

"What made you think that?"

"Well, you're the only one who could have authorized it, it all seemed very official."

"Where is the paperwork authorizing this?" She glared at him like he was a bug she wanted to step on.

"Well, the maintenance workers showed us the forms before the cameras were switched off," he explained, talking slowly as if to someone quite dense.

"Show me," she answered harshly.

"Very well. Larry, pull up the footage from thirty minutes ago," the chief guard instructed.

A moment later the display on the screens changed to show the view of one of the outdoor security camera feeds. Several teens, one with an oversized handlebar mustache, slowly approach the door. Their rough clothing had 'maintenance mans' written on it in marker. When they reached the door, they held up a dirty piece of paper that had writing scribbled on it. With an effort, the director could make out the words:

We are Bargain Repairs, and are here to fix your busted security system. Please open this door and allow us access to all the important systems, we will make everything better real soon.

Work has been authorized by Dirrectorr Pagge of WICKED so don't ask any questions or tell anybody or you will be fired.

Beneath this was an illegible signature and a crude skull and crossbones.

"As you can see everything was perfectly authenticated; they clearly had a signed work order," the guard concluded.

Those ingenious teens, the Director seethed. They used their genius intellect to breach our impenetrable security. But why? What were they after?

"Where did they go?" she demanded.

"Well, we can't say for sure… they set to work on the cameras real fast…had the outdoor one disassembled in no time. After that, the show came on so we had something to watch while they were working," a second guard put in.

She turned away from the dim wits, talking to herself. "So, they took the risk to come back here, but why break into WICKED Headquarters? What are you up to Thomas?"

Then she had an idea, why not get them to tell her themselves?

"Find the last audio recording we have from their wristwatches and play it for me," she ordered.

"Wait a minute, you mean you have watches that let you spy on people?" the guard asked, staring at his own watch like it had bit him.

"We only give watches like that to the smart people, we don't care what stupid people are talking about," she reassured him.

"Oh, okay then, here's the recording... hey wait a minute, did you say...?"

But she had already tuned him out to hear what the boys were plotting.

"Hey, aren't these watches great? I mean, we never needed to tell time in the Glade, but isn't it swell that those rescue guys brought one for each of us? I mean they thought of everything... that is, before they were all tragically killed at exactly the same time leaving us to fend for ourselves all over again..." Newt piped up.

"Never mind that now Newt, with the rescue party dead we have no choice, we have to destroy WICKED," Thomas stated.

"You can't mean..." Minho started.

"Yes, I do. I know the plan was for us to take our ATOMIC BOMB and blow up the girl's maze to make sure they could never beat us, but this is more important than that. WICKED is going to just keep killing people until we stop them. I mean, we can't wait around and hope they'll decide I'm the only one who deserve to live, now can we? No, we have to do something, and by something I mean blow them up with our ATOMIC BOMB!" Thomas finished.

"But Thomas, WICKED is just trying to save the world, we should do exactly what they tell us to do and suffer and die like good little children," Teresa stated primly.

"Nothing much to hear there," the technician muttered and fast-forwarded the recording.

"... Okay men, so that's how we destroy WICKED HQ with our ATOMIC BOMB. Any questions? No? OK, we head out at around 8:23 am sharp," Thomas' voice concluded.

The Director spun around to face him, "go back you idiot! You missed everything!" She seethed at the incompetence. How was she supposed to run an evil worldwide organization when she had such morons to deal with?

The recording started again:

"But Thomas, how are we going to get our ATOMIC BOMB into WICKED Headquarters? It's not like they'll just leave the main gate open for us!" Minho pointed out.

"No. We need a plan to get in through a side maintenance door that has lower security. From there we can get into the air ducts, and set our BOMB in the middle of the building and escape back to the Glade. When the BOMB goes off, it will blast a big hole in the wall of the maze so we can leave whenever we want to," Thomas explained.

"Well, we can hack into their system from an outside access terminal, but we'll still need someone to open the door. It's on a separate system," Newt reminded them.

"Maybe we could just ask them to let us in," Teresa snapped angrily at them.

"Teresa, that's a really stupid idea!" Newt stated.

"Hold on a minute Newt, it's true she has lots of stupid ideas, but this one has given me a great idea! We can go in as maintenance men! All we need now are some clever disguises so they won't know it's us, and let us in!" Thomas said excitedly.

"Yeah, we could change our clothes to look more like uniforms, and Teresa could wear a fake mustache!" Newt put in.

"You boys are so stupid," Teresa muttered.

"It should be a full beard so the cameras don't recognize her," Minho suggestedthoughtfully.

"But then we won't recognize her either," stated Newt.

"Good point Newt, mustache it is," Thomas said. "We are also going to need some fake work orders, you are in charge of those...Minho, you're in charge of uniforms. Okay men, so that's how we destroy WICKED HQ with our ATOMIC BOMB. Any questions? No? OK, we head out at around 8:23 am sharp."

The recording ended with a lot of static, falling silent as the director started to pace back and forth.

The Security guard scratched his head clearly puzzled. "Sounds pretty far fetched to me. I mean, where did they get the parts for an atomic bomb in the first place?"

"They are geniuses! Geniuses can build anything out of anything, have you never watched television?! Why do you think we have been having them hoe potatoes for the last few years to cure a deadly plague, rather than have them in a lab with equipment?" She trailed off, looking again at the footage of the boys. They had to be stopped. "Alert the strike team: I want a full sweep of this facility, they are here and we have to stop them before they plant that bomb."

None of the other mazes had tried anything like this. Not the ice maze, or the subterranean maze, or the ocean maze, or the garden maze, no, they had all behaved exactly as expected, but Thomas— he had changed everything. Her musing was interrupted by one of the security teams reporting back.

"Ma'am, the strike team just found something," the man reported. "It's in your office."

Director Paige walked into her office and came to an immediate stop. On her desk, sitting neatly with a simple bow, was the ATOMIC BOMB. The timer was already counting down from fifteen minutes.

She looked to the head of the strike team.

"Can you defuse it?" she demanded.

The man shook his head sweating heavily. "I've never seen a bomb anything like this before, and both the wires are black! How can I cut the red one when they're both black?!" he yelled, beginning to buckle under the pressure.

The Director studied the bomb. It appeared to be an elegant design: two upright potatoes and between them a simple digital countdown clock. Thomas always had been a genius. Then she noticed a note attached to the bomb. She reached for it, drawing a collective gasp from the people gathered there, but she knew Thomas meant for her to take it.

Dear Director Page,

I'm sorry it has come to this, but WICKED is evil and we must stop it. Too many people have been killed by you, so now we must kill some too. Do not try to escape; we locked all the doors and windows. It was sort of nice working for you, but mostly not. Sorry about the mess this will leave, I know you wanted a cleaner world.

Sincerely,

Thomas

P.S. Teresa says hi and wants to warn you we're planting a bomb in your office.

Director Paige wiped a tear from her eye. He was such a sweet boy.

"What do we do?" a security guard asked, "Sound an evacuation?"

The Director's mind snapped back to its usual razor sharp processes. "No, get all the important people to the Glade!" she ordered.

"The Glade? But we'll be trapped!" a guard exclaimed.

"No, we won't. Now move! Leave everything behind, and all the useless people too; we may as well start over with a clean slate." She sighed. It had been a clever plan Thomas had come up with. It would have stopped most people, but WICKED was always one step ahead, and that was good.

As the last of the core group of WICKED staff made their way out of the concrete maze and into the Glade, Director Paige stared down at her watch, five seconds remaining.

She did not feel bad about losing so many of the support crews, although she would need to think of how to word this in her report to the world council. Something about the need to downsize her staff in the wake of these hard economic times.

She looked forward to seeing Thomas' face when he realized WICKED had survived. He had played the game well, but WICKED always won.

She waited for the final countdown…four, three, two, one... and braced herself for the blast.

Nothing happened. What was going on here?

"Find Thomas!" she ordered.

Several minutes later, a member of the strike team ran up, concerned. "There's no-one else here! The buildings are empty, the Gladers are not here!"

This was punctuated by a deep rumbling sound as the maze began to shift its pattern again, effectively trapping them within the confines of the Glade.

"What is happening here?" the strike team leader asked nervously.

Then a voice was heard from the overhead speaker:

"Attention new Glade residents, we want to welcome you to your new home.

It's a lovely place to stay: You have three lovely, somewhat waterproof shacks to choose from, and a wide array of meals, all composed of potatoes, to eat.

For relaxation, you can try gardening more potatoes.

For exercise, you can try running the maze.

For entertainment you can try to solve the maze— just watch out for spiders.

Thanks for coming, and we hope you have a long, productive stay," Thomas finished.

The Director shook her head in disbelief.

It was always Thomas...

The End.