Hey there my fellow Gladers, it's been two months since I have officially updated! I know, I know, it's bad, but exams... Anyway, officially finished with that part I can now focus on finishing this fanfic, which I'm super-duper excited to do. In two days it will be July, and I know I promised to have Chapter 30 done, but I haven't. Instead, I've been going over the beginning part and rewriting the story so that it sounded better. So far, I have done up to Chapter 4 and almost finished Chapter 5. Luckily for you, I have also been doing the same for the ones I haven't posted, so they will not be edited when they are posted. At the moment, I have started Chapter 28 and was thinking about doing at least another 12, making it 40 chapters in total (excluding the Epilogue, which I have already written). Updating will happen, but it will be a slow process. Hope to see you soon. queenofthetear x

Chapter Eighteen

It's okay to be crazy and scared and brave at the same time! ~ Kelly Epperson

For several seconds, I felt like the world had frozen in place. A thick silence followed the thunderous rumble of the Door closing, bringing a vile darkness that covered the sky. It was if the sun had cowered away from whatever lurked through these corridors. Twilight had fallen fast and the mammoth walls were an enormous tombstone in a weed-infested cemetery for giants. I leaned back against the rough rock of the Doors, overcome with disbelief about what had happened to me.

There was no I could stay here, not if the so told Grievers were coming. Newt had explained to Thomas and me that they prowled the Maze at night, chomping up any unfortunate soul that happened to get stuck out here. The fear of the mouth ripping away at my skin and the tail piercing me got my legs moving. I pushed myself away from the rock and ran to where the little screen had been.

It was dark, not a good sign. Stopping at where I stood only a few minutes ago, I saw that the small screen had shrunken back into the wall, leaving a patch of bare wall. Six letters were printed in bold words in this patch, and it was six words that I was starting to hate – WICKED.

I smacked the wall with my bare hands, the collision sending my neuro senses berserk. I grunted from the pain, shaking my hand wildly to try and stop it. How could she do this to me, I thought that we were friends? Friends don't try and get you killed.

I let a scream of frustration escape my lips, tearing the ivy away from the walls, kicking anything that stood in path. Probably wasn't the best idea, but it felt good to get this out of my system. "How could this be happening?" I sobbed to the walls, turning in a circle to find an answer. I felt close to losing it for once, the pressure of surviving in a Maze that was deemed impossible. Only being here a few minutes and I already consider climbing up a wall and giving up. No, don't think like that, I scolded myself, my hand smacking my other arm. I had to survive the night if I wanted to live, and that was what I was going to do.

I sat down on the rough wall, facing the small gap where the screen had once been, the bold letters taunting me. My head found their way into my hands and I willed my mind to come up with a plan that would allow me to get out of this Maze.

I was only like this for a minute when I heard the noise. I popped my heap up, glancing down one of those dark corridors. My normal breathing rate rapidly quickened as the fear of the Maze snaked in.

It came from deep within the Maze, a low, haunting sound. A constant whirring that had a metallic ring every few seconds, like sharp knives rubbing against each other. It grew louder by the second, and then a series of eerie clicks joined in. A hollow moan filled the air, and then something that sounded like the clanking of chains.

All of it, together, was horrifying, and I started to crumble in on myself. I couldn't do this, I couldn't survive the night. I was petrified.

Not wanting to find out what the noise belonged to, I jumped up from the floor and ran down the opposite corridor away from it. I had no idea where I was going, no way of knowing what I would discover at each turn. My only instinct was to outrun the noise. The roar of engines interspersed with rolling, cranking sounds like chains hoisting machinery in an old, grimy factory. And then came the smell – something burning, oily. I didn't want to find what would happen if it caught up with me. When I mentioned earlier how I wanted to study it, forget that, I was not getting near one of those things.

I must have ran the furthest that I had ever in my life, twisting and turning at every given turn. I lost track of my way a while back, the amount of lefts and rights had dissolved into one big blob. There was no longer a route that I was taking, because I knew no routes.

I must have spent an hour running around the Maze, turning corners led to more corners to turn. But, the haunting moan followed me everywhere. Always sounding like it was close, yet it was never that close to be near.

Eventually, my luck ran out and I made the biggest mistake within these walls. It's all good taking the turns in random order, but maybe if I paid more attention it wouldn't have happened. A definite maybe.

I ended up in a dead end, the worst place to be when there are creatures hunting you. I backed up down the end of the corridor when the frightening sound of a Griever grew closer, echoing off the stone walls of the Maze. This Griever sounded loud and close, meaning that there was nowhere to go. I would have to somehow get passed this thing without it even knowing. I had to create a plan there and then to save myself.

A plan formed in my head. It all depended on the unknown abilities of the Grievers, but it was the best I could come up with under the circumstances.

I walked a few feet along the wall until I found a thick growth of ivy covering most of the stone. I reached down and grabbed one of the vines that went all the way to the ground and wrapped my hand around it. It felt thicker and more solid than I would've imagined, maybe half an inch in diameter. I pulled on it, and with the sound of thick paper ripping apart, the vine came unattached from the wall. When I had moved back at least ten feet, I saw that I could no longer see the vine way above; it disappeared in the darkness. But the plant had yet to fall, so it must have been attached somewhere.

Hesitant to try, I braised myself and pulled on the vine of ivy with all my strength.

It held.

I yanked on it again. Pulling and relaxing with both hands. I lifted my feet and hung onto the vine; it swung my body forward.

The vine held.

A sharp crack echoed from within the Maze, followed by the horrible sound of crumbling metal. I swung to around to look, my mind so concentrated on the vines that I had shut out the Griever; I searched the corner which I turned. I couldn't see anything coming, but the sounds were louder – the whirring, the groaning, the clanging. And the air had brightened ever so slightly; I could make out more of the details of the Maze then I'd been able to before.

I remembered the odd lights I'd observed through the Glade window with Newt. Newt. Oh, Newt. I bet he's worried sick about me, about everything. No, but I can't be distracted. The Grievers were close. They had to be.

I pushed away the swelling panic and set to work.

I wrapped the vine around my hand, placing myself at the edge of the wall. I etched one foot into the ivy, and grabbed the vine I had ripped off the wall. This wasn't going to be so hard, like rock climbing. Clangs from the Maze. Whirrs. Buzzes. Moans. I saw a couple of red flashes to my left. The Griever were getting closer.

I got back to work.

I slowly made my way up the stone wall, two or three feet at a time. I climbed until I was at least five feet above the ground, wrapped the vine around my chest for support. I continued to climb. One leg there. Slide your hand up. Untie, tie. Watch your footing. I was in the zone, like I had done something like this billions of times. The Griever at least seemed to be moving slowly through the Maze, which gave me time to hide.

I began to feel exhaustion taking over me as I heaved my body up the side of the wall. Recommendation, don't enter a maze with blood-thirsty monsters inside if you haven't had at least thirteen hours sleep and a good meal; it's not the best idea. Sweat covered every inch of my body, my hands began to slip and slide on the vines. My feet ached from pressing into the stone cracks. Still, I had to climb.

When I reached about forty feet off the ground, I stopped, swaying on the vine I had tied around my chest. Using my drained, rubbery arms, I turned myself around to face the Maze. An exhaustion I'd not known possible filled every particle of my body. I ached with tiredness; my muscles screamed. I was ready to pass out with exhaustion.

This was where I would hide. Or make my stand-off.

I little bit inside me knew that I wouldn't have been able to make the top – I had only hoped that the Grievers wouldn't or couldn't look above them. Or, I could fight them off somehow, one by one, without being overwhelmed on the ground. I could use the sonic screwdriver, well Amy said to use that, but in what why I did not know.

A few minutes passed before I saw the first glimmer of light shine off the walls. The terrible sounds I had heard escalate for the last few minutes took on a high-pitched, mechanical squeal, like a robotic death yell. I pulled the screwdriver from my trouser pocket and readied it for battle. I'd no idea what would happen, but if it was able to kill a beetle blade, then a Griever it could kill as well.

A red light to my left, on the wall, caught my attention. I turned and almost screamed out loud – a beetle blade was only a few inches from me, its spindly legs poking through the ivy and somehow sticking to the stone wall. I squinted at the thing's body, its eyes to bright to focus on.

I wasn't able to get a good look at the last beetle blade. By the time I had gone down to retrieve it from the floor, it had disappeared. At the time, I thought that it had rolled away, now I wasn't too sure. The torso was a silver cylinder, maybe three inches in diameter and ten inches long. Twelve jointed legs ran along the length of the bottom. The head was impossible to see, but it seemed small, vision its only purpose, perhaps.

This thing had to be a spy for WICKED, the people who had sent us here. The people that the Doctor, Amy and Rory now work for. I stilled myself, holding my breath and clenching the screwdriver. After my last encounter, I didn't need any trouble right now. I hoped the thing only detected movement as long seconds passed, my lungs screamed for air.

With a click and then a clack, the beetle turned and scuttled off, disappearing into the ivy. I sucked in a huge gulp of air, and then another, feeling the pinch of the vines tied around my chest.

Another mechanical squeal screeched through the Maze, close now, followed by the surge of revved machinery. I tried to play dead, making my body a hanging lifeless limp in the vines.

And then something rounded the corner, and came towards my hiding place.

Something I had seen before, but through the safety of thick glass.

Something unspeakable.

A Griever.