Disclaimer: I do not own The Maze Runner or any of its characters
Chapter 1
He waited until they'd walked out the doorway of the blowing alley, Thomas with Brenda and Minho who he was almost dragging and the fake crank Jorge following them till he slowly lowered his launcher and sunk to the ground. And then it came, again, worse than ever before. The darkness he'd grown so familiar to, the utter hopelessness, crushing down on him mercilessly, he screamed in agony, his crazed thoughts becoming even more riddled with despair. It was over for him, there was no escaping his reality.
A woman near to him giggled loudly as if she found his misery amusing. Instantly he was on his feet again and advanced on her no longer in control of himself, the scrap of sanity he'd had while his friends had visited gone as he raised the launcher and pressed it to her forehead making her giggle even more.
A part of him could tell she was near to the gone, she was in a right state with her filthy dress hanging off her battered skeletal frame covered in open sores and bleeding scratches which she'd probably given to herself but none of that mattered now, there was only rage.
"Whats so bloody funny you shuck crank" he screamed at her spittle flying from his mouth and all over her face.
She was gasping for air now, tears streaming down her face as she continued to giggle uncontrollably "shuck?" more giggles "shucks and cranks, ducks in banks" she said now laughing in an eerie high pitch which stopped abruptly as he pulled the trigger impaling a grenade in her skull and enveloping her in lightening tendrils causing her to shriek and writhe in pain scratching more deep cuts in her skin until she fell silent and still.
He stepped over her and surveyed the rest of the bowling alley in challenge but nobody spared him a glance, they were all too caught up in the insanity of their own minds or completely drugged out on the bliss. His rage was receding now as he turned back beginning to feeling sick from what he'd just done.
It was all too much, he'd just seen his best friends for what was probably the last time and they'd offered him an escape he knew he couldn't take. Shuck he knew he couldn't escape from the moment the rat-man had told him he had the flare. And then there was Tommy, bloody shuck faced good for nothing Tommy. He couldn't fathom why he'd trusted him with his note, his final wish only to have it thrown in his face like it was worth klunk. He put his head in his hands with his fists tightly grasping his hair which he felt like ripping out as his rage started to build again blocking out all reasonable thoughts.
He wanted to chase after them and throttle Thomas with his bare hands, he wanted to hurt him as much as he was hurting because it was his fault he was still even hurting at all. He had hoped he'd be dead by now but luck had never been on his side and hope was a shitty thing anyway. Wild thoughts rushed through his diseased brain each one becoming more and more extreme and violent as he imagined making Thomas feel pain till suddenly he realized he was standing again his fists clenched so tightly that his nails had dug into his palms making them bleed.
Then all at once the rage was gone, with despair settling back in its place. However he was most sane when he wasn't angry. His eyes swum with tears, he was trapped, trapped in his own mind, trapped in his body that he no longer had any respect for, he hated himself. He hated that he couldn't control himself, he hated that there was no chance for him no future, only oblivion.