A/N: In a world where Alby is the main character in the Maze Runner...
Tyler: Uh, Amazing, they didn't click on the story to read about Alby.
Me: I know! I was just messing with you!
Alby: Just get on with it, shuck-face.
Me: Meanie. So I'm working on another fic at the same time (no worries no more fics will be published~) as this, but it isn't a Maze Runner fic, it's PJaO. So if you like that, go ahead and check it out, but if not, no sweat! You read the summary, but if you didn't for some strange reason... here it is. (Actually, you didn't read the whole thing. But whaever.)
Summary: Tyler Simmons, a regular girl with a regular life. Definitely. She loves reading, but it's not like she's obsessed with her favorite book series -the Maze Runner- so much that it takes over her life. Hell no! She just likes reading! So why on earth does she wake up one day in the Glade? Oh yeah, forgot to mention. She's a dude. She finds out that it's another one of WICKED's tests, putting her in there with all of her knowledge to see what she'd do. But if she tells Thomas or anybody the events that happen straight out, she and all of the Gladers die. Tyler is now a guy, and has to put up a facade of being like the rest of them. Whoops! She decides to have a little fun and save some characters along the way, such as Alby, Teresa, and Newt... but will she succeed? And will she die?
Tyler: WICKED is demon spawn, I swear.
Thomas: Good that.
Teresa: *smiles*
Minho: Don't shucking say it.
Teresa: WICKED is good.
Minho: *goes insane and kills the entire earth*
MEANWHILE, IN HELL
Teresa: Jeez, I was just kidding, Minho. You didn't have to go and kill the entire earth.
Minho: *shrugs* I just wanted to see what would happen.
Me: CAN YOU GUYS SHUT UP?
Them: Good that.
Me: Sorry about that useless A/N, they're living in my apartment because I couldn't buy the rights to them... not because I can't afford it but because I'm scared of James Dashner... which brings us to this part. Hey, shanks!
Them: *look at me*
Me: Do the disclaimer!
Them: *immediately start mumbling, raising hands in surrender and walking away*
Alby: Shuck-faces... Amazing doesn't-and never has of my knowledge-own the Maze Runner trilogy.
Me: Yay~ Thanks Alby!
Alby: *rolls eyes*
Me: Enjoy the story, shanks! (Also, what pairings do you want in this? I was originally gonna make it ThomasxTeresa, but I just reread the Death Cure and I don't know what I want to do. So please tell me what pairings you'd like to see in this~)
I paused, waiting to see how they'd take the news. Thomas was staring at me, his eyes widened in shock. Teresa looked to be doing the same as me, looking around and judging how upset they were. Chuck looked as if somebody has told him his long lost mother-whom he'd thought was dead-had come back for him. His eyes showed shock, of course, wouldn't you be surprised? But he seemed happy too, and that filled me with relief that Chuck wasn't enraged with my lies. Minho rolled his eyes, seeming to have suspected it all along. Ably was glaring at me like every problem in the world was my fault-as was to be expected, this is Alby we're talking about-but behind the anger, I detected a small amount of relief. And Newt was staring at me with a black expression on his face. It was maybe the most scary and unsettling thing I saw. I wondered what the blond boy was thinking.
I then considered my own emotions. How did I feel? I supposed I was angry. I was angry at Minho for being reckless and barging into the situation. I was angry at Teresa for betraying Thomas, and I was angry at Thomas for not forgiving Teresa. I was angry at Newt for being so unreadable-though the more logical part of me reminded me it wasn't exactly his fault. Most of all, I was angry at WICKED for doing this. And I felt awful and selfish about it, because I wasn't angry about what they did to Thomas and the Gladers. It was unforgivable, but that's not why I hated them. I hated them for dragging me into it. I hated them with a rage that was so deep and maddening that it was unexplainable. But the rage was a welcomed emotion, it was better than the melancholy of seeing so much death, and it was better than the fear of being caught in a lie. I hated WICKED for ruining my life, and for taking me away from everybody I loved.
The only people I wasn't angry at were Chuck, and for some reason, Alby. I couldn't make myself be angry at either of the boys that I had almost killed myself protecting, it just didn't seem right. Finally, Thomas opened his mouth to speak, and I braced myself for whatever harsh words may come out.
Before we get into that, however, maybe I should explain to you how this whole mess even started.
My name is Tyler Simmons. I am 15 years old, and a Sophomore in high school. (1st year high schooler in other countries, or a 10th grader) My eyes are green and my hair is straight, long, and blond. I considered myself a normal kid. I didn't get straight A's in anything except for science and language arts. I loved to read, my favorite book series being the Maze Runner trilogy. I was just a normal kid. I didn't want to go into another universe or anything wonky like that. I had a good life. Why would I want to leave?
It started on just a regular day. I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped foot out of my bedroom. The door to my mom's room hung open. Mom never left her door open. I walked up to the door and knocked on the frame. "Ma? You okay?" A sniffle was the response I recieved. "Ma?" I walked into the room. Mom as sitting on a chair next to her bed. She looked terrible. Her brown hair was disheveled and her green eyes were red and puffy, complete with dark purple rings underneath. She had tears in her eyes and was clutching a handkerchief so hard her knuckles had turned white. I was shocked. Mom never cried in front of me. She didn't want me to worry. "Mom! What's wrong?" I ran up to her and held her hands in mine.
"T-Tyler, you need to promise me something." Mom said. I looked into her green eyes, hoping that she saw that I was listening. She either understood or didn't care to hear my response, because she continued. "Don't let anything happen to you. You stay safe, you hear me?" My head filled to the brim with questions that I wanted to ask her.
"Wait, what do you-" she cut me off before I finished my sentence. Her voice was serious.
"Promise it, Tyler! Promise me!"
"I-I promise! Mom, what's wrong?" She visibly relaxed, but didn't answer ny question.
"Have a good day at school, sweetheart." She kissed ny forehead and patted my shoulder. The message was clear. She wanted me to leave the room and go to school.
I could go in to details and give you hours of excruciating pain and explain every accessory I wear like sticking shucking knives up my sleeves even though I'm going to school. But I'll be honest. I have no idea what I wore that day. I probably wore jeans and a t-shirt, and it didn't really matter anyway.
I think I walked to school. I arrived, and my best friend, Miley, was as pale as a ghost as she walked up to me. Her pixie cut black hair was as messy as ny mother's had been that morning, and her blue eyes were dull, as if she had gone days without sleep. "Hey Miley. What's wrong?" She jumped when I addressed her, almost as if she didn't just walk up to me. Another pint of blood seemed to drain from her face. I began to feel the same worry I felt that morning for my mother. Miley faked a smile.
"I-I'm-" she looked like she wanted to tell me something important. I stared at her until she regained her composure and spoke again. "It's honestly nothing, Tyler. I just had a bad dream." It was obviously not nothing, but I let the subject drop. The last thing I needed was to get into an argument with my best friend. I smiled a smile similar to the smile she had smiled at-I'll stop.
"Okay. But if you want to talk or anything, I'm open." I replied. I didn't feel open to talking very much at all, actually. But I lied to her to mask my concern of so many other things. "Things" being my mother, her, and every shucked thing that was happening that I didn't understand. Miley was unresponsive to my bad lie, and that caused me to worry even more. I dismissed any thoughts of that sort and tried to convince myself she was just having a bad morning. "Let's just go to class, shall we?" She nodded. Some of the color was returning to her face. I made a mental note to bother her about it later.
Looking back, I wish I had done it sooner rather than later.
I sat down at lunch, eating some okayish cafeteria pizza. Miley had left the room in a rush. She had gotten a phone call, and when she checked the caller ID, another pint of blood seemed to drain from her face-though I wasn't sure how it was possible, because it looked like her face was as white as a sheet already at that point-and left to answer it, saying that she'd, and I quote, "Tell me later". I took another bite of my pizza, chewing and swallowing. You may ask why I remember was I ate that day as opposed to what I wore. Well, I'm weird like that. Miley entered the cafeteria again, looking pained. She wouldn't meet my eyes, and I began to worry again.
"You need to go outside." Her voice trembled, sounding like it would crack if I applied force. "Now." I stared at her, my eyes widened in shock.
"What? Why? Am I even all-"
"Tyler, this would be so much easier for me-for both of us-if you just left without asking questions. All I can tell you is that you have been selected to do something very, very important for the fate of mankind and that it won't be easy. Please don't forget me." She met my eyes, hers sparkling with tears. "Don't let them kill you."
She couldn't have given me a more cryptic message. For some reason, that made me mad. I glared at her. "Fine, I don't need you to tell me." I snapped, my voice full of venom. I immediately felt bad, but I continued. "I'll find out on my own. Bye, Miley." I snatched my apple off of my tray, leaving the cafeteria in a blind rage.
I should not have done that. I so should not have done that.
I marched out the door, taking a bite of my apple. "Which shank wants me to talk to them?" I snarled angrily. "Anybody who messes with me will not leave without a black eye and a broken nose. I'm not kidding." Instead of an answer, I heard a chuckled. The chuckle sounded robotic, seeming almost alien on the person's lips. I looked around, startled.
"You seem angry." Said the same voice. It had an amused tone, though it sounded almost unnatural in the person's voice, as though the person-a man, I think-learned how to laugh from Twilight. Finally, my eyes landed on the perpetrator of the chuckle. (That sounded dumb. The person who chuckled. Yeah.) It was a thin man with gray hair. I couldn't see his eyes very well, but he had a mole of his cheek and a rat like face. He was sitting on a rock with a book and a syringe. I took a step back. "I can say that I'm impressed, this isn't how I expected you to act. Not much can be said about it however."
"Reacted to what?" I asked. My voice was barely more than a whisper. He smiled, a wrinkle on such a serious face. It didn't crinkle his eyes.
"Your friend, Miley. She asked you to come outside and wished for two things. One, for you not to forget her. Rhe other for you to stay safe. You reacted by yelling at her and leaving with a cold goodbye. I'd like to point out that you will regret that decision later." The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. I inadvertently shivered.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"You will know soon enough." He said. He closed his book and stood with the syringe in his hand. I stared at him with wide eyes as he walked over to me. I wanted to inch away, but I couldn't make myself move. I should've forced myself to move. He used a hand to move my hair from my neck and stuck the syringe in it, emptying the liquid inside it into my neck.
Fear started to creep it's way into ny mind, making my heart beat faster. I tried to step away, but I suddenly felt incredibly tired. Darkness appeared at the edges of my vision. "What was that?" I forced myself to ask. He smiled again, the unnatural smile that I was beginning to hate.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. But you'll find out in time." I glared at him as well as I could until the darkness at the edges of my vision took me in, and I fell into it.
A/N: Tyler is mad. Mad is Tyler. Yay!
Tyler: Not yay! Very not yay!
Me: Whatever. So it begins... shout out if you knew who that man was!
Next time...
I opened my eyes to a bright light. I realized that I was outside, lying down on something hard and sharp. Like a rock. I rolled off of it over on to my stomach and heard somebody groan. "Sorry." My voice was a lot deeper-more male than I remembered. I looked around, seeing that I was surrounded by people-boys, to be specific. I started to panic. Where was I?
I stood up, shaking off drowsiness. I looked around, observing my surroundings. I saw a tall shack, walls covered in ivory, and a bunch of crudely built buidings. With a start, I realized my surroundings resembled those of how I imagined the Glade from the Maze Runner.
I was in the Glade. Whatever had happened, I was in the Glade.