∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"No, no, no!"

My heart raced as I sprinted down the corridor. The clanking of its heavy, metallic legs echoed behind me, fueling my fear. I gasped for breath, my legs burning as I pushed myself to the limit.

I couldn't stop. Not now. Not ever. Fear and adrenaline pushed me forward, each step was a desperate attempt to escape.

I frantically scanned the walls, searching for any sign of an escape—a crack, a door, anything. But the walls were solid, and the vines didn't reach the top of the walls either, making it impossible to climb all the way to the top.

Even if I tried to climb it, the Griever could still catch up to me in no time. It's literally like a spider-scorpion hybrid, but bigger and stronger, made out of steel.

I was nearing the end of the corridor, more scared than ever when the fact that there was nowhere else to go anymore sank in.

Panic took over as my foot got caught in a long vine, making me trip and slam onto my stomach. My forehead hit a rock from the speed I was running. Pain shot through me, but I bit back a scream, forcing myself up despite the blood trickling down my face and the scrapes on my hands from when I tried to break my fall.

I glanced back, heart pounding, but the Griever was gone. Silence.

Nothing was chasing me.

Shit, where did it go?

I was catching my breath but still continued to walk hurriedly to the end of this corridor, looking in every direction where the Griever might be.

It was nowhere to be found.

I took the knife out of my knapsack, still aware of my surroundings, my senses remained heightened as I watched out for any signs of where the Griever could be right now. And I know a knife won't do shit, but at least I have something.

As I kept on inching toward the end of the corridor, I felt shivers down my spine when I heard a chilling growl behind me.

I looked back, and there it was—its legs sprawled across the corridor, its monstrous tail poised in the middle, eyes fixed menacingly down on me.

Without a second thought, I bolted forward, my heart hammering as I accepted my fate at the end of this corridor.

I couldn't even say goodbye to the ones I love.

≪ °𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘° ≫

"I should've known that shuck-face had a death wish," I muttered, the bitterness in my voice barely masking the fear underneath.

Thomas, Newt, Frypan, and the others were finally gathered around the table in the Map Room with me. We'd spent too long convincing Gally that Wren was just having one hell of a day, as per usual, and locked herself in the Med-hut.

But she's gone, into the maze, since who knows when and for how long.

That girl is so damn stubborn.

She'll totally be the death of me.

We've been here for hours since 10 am, planning– well me and Newt were planning. It was evident that Newt was trying his best to stay strong, but still, tears escaped his eyes every now and then, his voice wavering as he talked.

While Thomas was also helpful, it doesn't change the fact that he, along with Mav, Clint, and Frypan were panicking around.

Teresa, Winston, Jeff, and Zart on the other hand, were quiet, but anxiety was still visible on their faces. At least they're being more helpful than those who were panicking.

"Are you sure no one saw her leave–" Winston asked, no one in particular.

"If we did, we would've stopped her." I cut him off, it was harsher than I intended to. My head was everywhere, my fists were clenched against the table as I leaned on it. I was mad, furious even. So it wasn't a good idea to ask and say everything on repeat, or they'd just be nonsense to me.

Why was I furious? I have no shucking idea. Please someone tell me.

"We need to find her, Minho!" Mav repeated urgently. It was the only thing he kept on saying ever since he got here and it's annoying the hell out of me. He acts as if he's closer with Wren than she was with Newt ever since she became a Track-hoe. As if he was her boyfriend.

Ugh. Since when did he get so damn annoying?

And why was he still even here?

I groaned, "Firstly, Maverick, you've been repeating that over and over again, so slim it. Secondly, why the hell are you still with us? Thirdly, duh! That is the most shucking obvious thing to do right now, but it isn't the smartest thing to do–"

I was cut off by their complaints, different voices merging.

"What?! Then how–"

"What will we do?"

"What are you gonna do now, Minho?"

"How are we gonna find Wren?"

"Minho?"

"Minho!"

"She'll die in there!"

"No, she won't, you bastard!" I snapped, grabbing Mav by the neckline of his shirt, my fists shaking from fighting the urge to punch him.

"Minho," Newt's voice, thick with exhaustion, cut through my anger as he reached out to stop me. It was enough to snap me out of it, and I shoved Mav away. I shot Mav a glare before sinking into a chair at the far end of the Map Room, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands.

This is what I dislike about being the Keeper of the Runners sometimes. The pressure of their questions and expectations weighed me down. They expect to always know what to do in every situation. Every answer there is to a certain problem.

I mean, I usually do. I'm one hell of a smart guy around here. I can think and act under pressure, of course.

But right now, it's different. We're talking about Wren, still being in the maze, four hours before the doors close, with no proper equipment, with no preparation whatsoever. All alone.

As they continued chatting in the background, I found my thoughts drifting to the fact that last night was the first time Wren and I had seen each other again, only for it to end in an argument. It was just after a month of not seeing her since our previous fight.

And I haven't seen her the same way since.

I still recall the day she arrived, her small silhouette against the maze's towering walls. Even then, I sensed the storm she'd bring, and now I realize I was powerless to stop it.

I knew for a fact that she would be the most difficult person ever.

Just by her silence, how she responded to everything, her puzzling presence, and her maze-like barriers drew me in—something I immediately disregarded as I felt strangely comforted by her presence.

And of course, as Keeper of the Runners, I had to remain professional, to shield myself from distractions because I already had a lot of things to worry about. I didn't give a klunk about her.

But it was impossible to ignore her. Every move she made and every word she said annoyed me. She absolutely irritated me. Every part of me kept on malfunctioning, wanting to scream at her to stop...being her, I guess. I don't know.

She was everywhere and it didn't help that one of my best friends was close to her. They became inseparable, so I tried distancing myself from Newt just to avoid her.

But guess what? It didn't do crap. I was still drawn in by her presence, but this time, it was worse.

She was one hell of a challenge. I just knew she was more than just a puzzling mess and that was exactly why I was in a sort of trance with her, which I just despised.

Then, my feelings– or whatever it was– about her just sank in. Three years of having a tough heart down the drain in a second.

Of course, it was all new to me, so I struggled every day until I had finally had enough of these strange and disgusting emotions. So I made a very wise choice of being a pain in the ass so she would dislike me for no reason at all.

It was going well until I didn't realize how these unfamiliar emotions were already clouding my ability to think properly, all for them to spill over in that meeting.

I completely ruined everything. I don't understand why I said those things—lies that cut deep when the truth was she was everything I feared and admired.

She wasn't weak. She wasn't pathetic. She was smart and brave, yet I've been so selfish by letting my crappy emotions get in the way, saying the opposite of what she was.

I'll never forgive myself for this—for pushing her away when I just wanted her close to me.

It's my fault she went into the maze.

What the hell have I done?

Oh, how I would do everything to switch places with her right now.

And to think that I was the last one who saw her last night made my heart drop.

Her deep brown eyes, once fierce with courage, were now hollow and lost, filled with confusion and sorrow that I had caused. There were bags under her bloodshot eyes, scratch marks on her neck and arms, and her cheeks which were once stained with a rosy tint became stained with tears.

Seeing her in that state after not seeing her in a month just messed up with my head so badly. I can't even imagine how she must have been struggling all these weeks, alone. And by the looks of it, I don't think even Newt and Thomas knew what was going on with her.

If I only knew what was going on with her, maybe I could've stopped her from going in, or maybe I could've gone in with her.

Maybe I could've helped her, be with her.

But I didn't, now her life is on the line. If only I actually let her help us in the first place, then this will never happen.

What could she be doing right now?

Where could she even be?

I will never be able to forgive myself if she ends up...

No, she won't.

That girl is literally chaos itself. She can handle herself, I just know it.

Shucking hell, what is going on?

A/N: omggg minho's pov!!! I hope his pov kinda cleared some stuff, idk what but yea. y'all now know how he feels about her huehuehe. I hope he was well written cuz sometimes, it's difficult for me to remember how they act or something so I apologize if they're not accurately written

ilyyy all have a good day/evening<3