Alby's POV:

Newt's rather easy to find; he was hoeing at the garden. Apparently, he decided to move on from the ruckus caused by WInston and Gally. Not really that surprising, of course the shank would leave everything to me to fix.

"Newt," I state, getting his attention, "We need to set some official ground rules surrounding Diana, before another incident occurs. We've been avoiding it for long enough and now we're forced to deal with it."

He takes a tan hand and wipes some sweat off of his forehead as his face turns thoughtful. "Yeah, but how are we going to get a bunch of teenage boys to understand that if the one girl in the Glade doesn't want to date them, then she doesn't have to have any sort of relationship with them?"

I shrug. "Threats, probably. I'm not having her wellbeing or life endangered because they don't have two brain cells."

Newt opens his mouth to say something, but he's interrupted by a loud and panicked voice. "Alby! Newt!"

Both of our heads whip towards the source of the concern to see Minho running at useful speed with wide panicked eyes.

Instantly, Newt and I are in high alert. Minho is never panicked and he wouldn't be running at us in a dead sprint unless something was horribly wrong. The only time I can remember him running like that was when Newt…

"The Map Room," Minho pants when he arrives at where we are standing, gasping in breaths of air, "you need to come see, it's not good."

The Map Room? Well, shuck, that's not good. That's the one place we don't want anyone screwing with or jacking up. It's our only way of finding a way out and it has everything we know about the Maze in there.

As soon as Newt and I realize just how bad this situation is, the three of us turn and go in a dead sprint towards the place in question.

Bursting through the door within seconds, my eyes wildly move across the room, assessing the entirety of it. The Map Room has been completely trashed. Papers are strewn everywhere; torn, wet, crumpled, or a mixture of them all. The wooden table is flipped and one of the legs is broken off and laying across the room from it. A large, prominent dent in the wall is above where the wooden leg is.

"Holy shuck," Newt whispers, his eyes roaming across the fallen bookshelves that lay in pieces across the floor, a pile of disorganized paper blanketing the wooden floor under them.

Holy shuck doesn't even explain how bad this situation is. Years of hard work down the drain because someone decided to destroy all the research and documentation we've done. This could mean that it'll be decades before we get anywhere close to leaving this hellscape.

"Alby," Newt breathes, his eyes wide with horror and face deadly pale as he gazes at the wall behind me. He lifts his hand up- they're covered in a sheen of sweat- and shakily points at the wall.

I've only felt fear two times that I can remember. One being when I first came to the Maze and had zero members of who I was or where I was. Second being when Alby came back into the Maze clutching Newt's crumbled, broken body. The look on Newt's face is enough to make me realize that whatever he's pointing at will make me very afraid.

I slowly turn, mentally preparing myself for the possibly horrific display I know I'm about to see. Goosebumps rise up on my arms in preparation for what I'm about to see.

My eyes rise to the exact place Newt's looking. A pit of dread nausea forms in my stomach as the gory scent and horrifying image registers fully in my mind. This is so much worse than I had imagined.

Written on the walls in a distinctive blood red, are the words 'The girl's next'.

"Oh shuck," the Keeper of the Runners breathes.

And I couldn't have said it better myself.