"Nooooo! No you can't do this! Let me go! You can't escape the Maze! You can't!" George suddenly shouted from behind. Everyone in the room turned to fine George sitting upright, his eyes bulging and red. His torso jerked backwards violently and he fell back to the bed, before his entire body went into a series of convulsions, the green veins brighter and bigger than ever. Newt, Alby and Clint stood around his bed, unsure of what to do. This went on for minutes before George lay still again, eyes huge and round
As if possessed, George got up into a seating position, swinging his legs off the bed. "Woah, steady there, George. No need to get out of the bed now. Stay here and rest for a while, I'll get you something to drink," Alby said gently, holding George's arm firmly. With a strength no one knew George possessed, he pushed Alby off, sending him crashing into the cupboard of medical instruments. George took off and sprinted out of the door, down the stairs and towards the Glade.
Newt instantly chased after George, afraid that something bad was going to happen again. He followed George's screams, cursing under his breath, "Bloody hell. George! Come back!" There was a clamour of noises and chattering down at the Glade, and Newt quickened his footsteps, afraid that George had started attacking one of the Gladers again.
"George! George stop it! You're hurting me!" Gally's usually loud and grumpy voice came from not too far away, but this time, there was a slight tone of anxiety and panic. George had Gally's blond hair held tightly in his right fist, the other wrapped tightly over his throat and pressing him against a tree.
"You won't be able to escape the Maze," George said in a slow, dark airy voice, cackling like a maniac. Gally wriggled and flailed in George's grasp, but George only tugged harder on his hair, hand stiff on his neck. Gally let out a strangled sound, his face turning pale fast.
"Let him go, George!" Newt demanded, trying to pry George away. George did not respond, grinning a lopsided smile on his face. "You want to escape this place, don't you, Gally?" he rasped, face dangerously close to Gally's. Newt held onto the blotched red arm, pulling with all his might. Alby ran over, and with a lot of tugging, they finally managed to get George off.
Gally collapsed against the tree, panting heavily as Ben the builder and Cint, went over to tend to Gally. "What the shank, George? Why did you attack him for?" Alby exclaimed, holding George firmly by his shoulders. "You can't escape the Maze," George repeated again in the same unnerving tone, body slumped towards one side.
"George?" Alby called out, tapping his cheek lightly. George's bloodshot eyes stared back at Alby, his smirk still plastered on his blotchy face. "Come on, George. Say something. Your name, maybe. Show me that you are still there. Where is the little George that I used to know, huh?" Alby said gently, trying to coax out some sort of reaction from George.
Newt couldn't bear the sight of one of his fellow Runners in this state. "Oh bloody shuck. I can't do this," Newt gasped out, averting his gaze and bending over, hands resting on his knees. "Newt, you alright there?" Minho asked, voice laced with concern. "Come on, shank. Take a break, alright? George's gonna be fine. Whatever's doing weird klunk to him, he will be able to fight it, ok? We'll get our George back."
But George was uncontrollable. He lashed out at Alby, swiping wildly at his face. "Die!" he screamed, chanting that word over and over again, and Alby knew that whatever was left of George was gone. At the same time, white froth bubbled at George's mouth, muffling whatever he was trying to say. "Come on, George. Fight it! I don't know what is inside of you, but you have to resist it!" Alby screamed, getting more desperate.
"We can't do this anymore, Alby. We've got to kill him, or he'll kill us," Gally interrupted. Everyone looked at Gally astonished, but a bugging thought at the back of their heads knew that Gally was right. George could not be saved. There was a brief moment of silence that hung between the Gladers as George screamed hysterically, more froth at his mouth.
"Get me some rope. We'll have to tie him up," Alby instructed. Winston and Zart went back to the Homestead and came back with a long coil of rope. "We'll tie him up over at the Deadheads. G-get a spear for me, Minho. Newt, help me get his legs. The rest, follow me." Newt carried a thrashing George by his legs while Alby got hold of his arms, while the rest of the Gladers followed him.
It took quite a lot of effort to restrain George and get his back to a tree, and it took a lot more to keep him secured there with rope. "If you can hear us, George, I hope you will understand what we are going to do. I'm sorry about this. We have no idea what is going on with you, and I really hate having to kill you. But it is for the sake of the rest of the Gladers. I'm sorry George. Forgive us; we'll do better next time," Alby muttered. "Minho, the spear."
The long wooden rod with the sharp metal end gleamed menacingly under the afternoon sun. George's screams continued, echoing through the Deadheads. With a stifled explosion of guilt and self-anger, Alby drove the spear right into the middle of George's body.
The screams were cut off. And George stilled, his eyes wide and empty.
A/N: Hey shanks! Sorry for updating this fic late; I forgot all about it yesterday. Anyway, there goes little George :\ Stephen will be up next :)