Chapter Text
Tap . Tap . Tap .
Looming walls. Empty corridors. So many turns. So many memories. It all feels hazy now. It all feels familiar, like a constant time loop that wore down over and over.
To think she was the only one alive in here now. To think she was trapped again in here, after being so close to freedom. To think this is where she was most likely going to die to the monsters still roaming the dangerous halls.
Did she regret what she did to push the others to freedom?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was so quiet now. The Grievers still howled at night, but they must have forgotten about her as soon as the doors into Section Eight shut with the remaining Outsiders racing towards whatever laid outside the walls. Everyone else had left, so why bother?
Not worth their time anyways, right? She was dead anyways.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was so lonely.
No familiar footsteps surrounding her, no metallic shifting of guns being loaded and ready. There were no snide comments behind her of two boys scuffling, no soft encouragement from gentle lips still holding out hope.
There were no more brown eyes watching her, making sure she stayed safe. There were no more hands gently resting on her shoulders, giving her comfort when she began to tremble. There were no more smiles, no more hope.
Being trapped with only her mind as company and the screaming Grievers every night taunting her, potentially on their way to decimate her with their own mind games they were playing on her?
Torture was putting it mildly.
Tap, tap, tap.
A small pause. This was a new sight.
Thump.
Rasbi emerged into a little field nestled right in the middle of the Maze.
She paused in the blooming space, listening to the small rivulet woven within the fissured floors. There was a miniature waterfall protruding from the walls, gently cascading into the stream, and long grassy fronds stretched up in different heights, some barely nicking her ankles and others almost as tall as Rasbi. There was a small pitched up tent that had barrels of supplies near the middle of the field, along with a cardiograph table and even a small bed nestled underneath the covers. The hints of sunset brought out the different shades of emerald and mint, along with the stark sapphire stream accompanying the cooler colors.
She walked forward, gripping the ends of her shirt tightly as she looked around slowly. It was a small clearing, barely scraping past the size of their old sparring arena, but it was bursting with small plumes of life with grass that swayed from the stale draft and the river still whispering in a hushed voice that echoed silently within the walls.
There’s no way this is real. I have to be hallucinating somehow.
How did the Grievers never come in here? How did they just… Avoid this area?
She dragged herself over to the tent, feeling her legs almost collapse with relief when she maneuvered herself onto the bed. It was softer than everything she had slept on within the Maze, sinking into it with a heavy gratefulness.
How’s it so comfortable? How was it not just completely destroyed? How was everything here just… Avoided?
She rubbed her face, ignoring the small scabs of blood that cracked and scratched her face, smearing it now with darkened blood. She let out a long sigh, peering up at the faded rays of day as her fingers picked at the small bandages that were wrapped around her forearms.
Should probably clean up, she grumbled to herself, rolling up her sleeve so it nestled under her armpit. As she reached for her left shoulder, a bright stinging feeling coursed through her and made her hiss, relenting. Dammit. The Grievers still got a good lick on me. I really need to change these bandages though; I can’t let them get infected. It’s already been a few days of aimlessly wandering after… That day.
She rose hesitantly, making her way to the sound of active water. It bubbled at her cheerfully as she slowly lowered herself onto her knees, cupping a small palmful of water and lifting it up before letting it trickle down her shoulder. She let out a thin hiss again at the sting, body shuddering, and she gripped the grass below her to steady her mind from the dizzying wave of pain. Jesus. Fuck. Didn’t know it was that bad.
As she hunched over, breathing heavy, her eyes caught a hint of something white at the corner of her eye. She turned, stiff with uncertainty, until she was able to register what she had seen.
Section Seven, a section of so much death and destruction, was the only place in this entire Maze where a living daisy grew. It was nestled right in the ground in a large crack with other shoots of grass around it, the daisy rising above them all.
She stared at the small flower, bobbing cheerfully as her shaky fingers reached out towards it. The petals flapped in alarm when she touched them, smearing a small bit of blood on their innocent white plumes, and she pulled back before she could ruin them more.
How did you get here? She slowly stepped over the creek, crouching down beside the flower again. It swayed from the small gust she naturally billowed from her movement, the small being shuddering when her hand came up to quietly cup the bloomed flower. Rasbi studied it with eyes that blurred from exhaustion, but she could still clearly see the youthful jubilation the plant exuded in her fingers.
“How are you alive?” she whispered to the little plant, her breath making the petals shiver once more. “You can’t… How did you make it this long?”
She traced one of the petals as gently as she could, her fingers trembling as she attempted to keep her touch a faint wisp of feeling. Luckily, the petal only leaned into her touch, not being yanked at from her shaking.
How are you the only one here? Why aren’t there any other flowers? How are you the only one to make it?
Did your other flowers die off too? Maybe… Maybe from the Grievers? Or other natural causes?
Or maybe… Maybe a disease?
The flower didn’t offer any response to her questions inside her head, but it leaned away when Rasbi slowly sank down to lay beside the flower, keeping it leveled to her eye as she stared at the petals dance with her movement. It happily bopped around for a moment before leaning towards her and draping one of the delicate petals on her nose.
She felt her breath hitch, her fingers shaking still as she reached to let one of her hands rest beside the delicate stem reaching up from the ground, studying the healthy green hue the plant flaunted. Growing in a place like this despite all obstacles…
Growing, thriving… Living…
She exhaled, turning head towards the sky where it had finally darkened over. Her travel had taken most of the day away, a void of a sky now draping itself above her. She took a moment to just keep her breathing even, taking in the whispers of the grass around her and the murmuring of the stream beside her feet.
Guess we’re not so different, you and I, she thought once more, her eyes sliding back over to study the daisy still gently resting on her nose and cheek. It tickled her eyelashes, brushing softly against the scratches on her cheek and along the heavier parts of her eyelid. She closed her eyes again, inhaling slowly and trying to memorize the smell of the small daisy beside the lingering stench of carrion still flooding her nostrils.
“We’re not so different, you and I,” she repeated quietly out loud, the stem bouncing from her words. She blinked slowly, the clearing growing colder as the nighttime had completely taken over the Maze. “We’re both delicate, ready to be broken by just a simple touch. We both probably won't last a day if things get worse.”
She inhaled again, watching the daisy lean towards her once more. It was intent, almost listening to her words, as if it had any conscious thought.
But somehow… We’re both still growing. We’re both still alive, despite all odds.
Despite everything that has died around us… We’ve adapted and grown.
She sat up at a grueling pace, both to wane down the small zaps of pain shooting from her wounds and also to not disturb the small flower. It waved around anyways from her movement, but slowly died down and leaned towards her again, as if trying to follow her along. She gave the plant another little smile, turning to glance up at the empty black canvas above them. As she stared, she could see the few stars start to slowly awaken from their sunny slumber.
And we’ve gotten stronger from it. From everything.
She lowered her eyes back down to the petals for a moment, then surveyed the grass gently lapping at her ankles. She could feel the quiet rumbling under her body from the Grievers starting to move around, but they seemed to be on the opposite side of Section Seven for the night, to Rasbi’s massive relief.
She rose up to her feet, letting out a soft groan of pain from her body’s cries of soreness. She slowly lumbered back over to the small camp, snagging the torch that was lit mutely against a wooden post and moving it close to the chest, where she hesitated before slowly nudging it open.
A few stale potatoes and small daggers gleamed back at her, glowing with orange ripples from the torch light. She sifted around for a moment, fishing around the daggers and potatoes to search for anything else of substance. Luckily, after nudging away a thin blanket lining the bottom, she found a few thick rolls of regular injury wrap she was able to wrestle into her fingers and slowly sit back up against the bed to work with. As much as her eyes were sagging, the deep paranoia of the Grievers finding her settlement, along with her general bustling thoughts, kept her awake and alert enough to slowly wrap her shoulder up and rewrap her hands that had been cut up.
She did her best to keep her focus despite her looming exhaustion, finishing on her shoulder first. She rolled it around a few times after the messy wrap she had attempted before sighing, shaking her head at herself and continuing onto her hands, letting her thoughts wander in the tired haze of her mind.
I hope everyone else made it out alive. Graecie, Mohwee, Oeca… Even after all we’ve been through; all the fights, all the disagreements… They deserve to get out. Especially Graecie. I've had my discrepancies with the others, but Graecie truly deserves it. She’s been stuck in here for way too long. And she was always so determined and willing to care for everyone in order to escape. I hope at least, out of everyone, she got to get out of here.
She finished one of her hands, flexing and testing the tense coils around her wrist. She shook it out briefly, testing her grip once more before nodding in satisfaction, starting on her next wrist and continuing to let her train of thoughts chug along.
I wonder where everyone ended up after all of this. What was outside of the gates? Did they get to safety? Is it more dangerous out there than it is in here?
What about the people that died? Did they achieve some kind of heaven? Are the people who died by Flare able to see the same heaven as we are? Did they get some sort of paradise?
Will I… Will I be able to see Apo and Owen again when I die here?
She lifted up briefly before lowering herself onto the bed she had been resting again, a thin squeak coming from the frame. It was a bit stiff under her, but still much more comfortable than the brief hours of sleep she tried to snatch on the hard Maze floors throughout their journey. She stared up at the muddled wood roof slanting above her blocking the stars, her heart squeezing painfully as she let out a hiccuped breath.
Apo, Owen… Where are they now? Are they somewhere looking over me? Are they actually expecting me to live through this?
She hid her face in her arms, trying to muffle her ragged breaths. I don’t know if I can do this without them. I should’ve tried harder to fight for Owen. Hell, maybe even Apo all those months back. If I just had one of them with me right now…
A small sob escaped her attempt to shove it all down again, and she gave up trying to stifle everything. She covered her face, the new bandages getting damp as she pressed her palms to her face. She gritted her teeth, eyes slamming shut, but the hot tears still pooled down her face no matter how much she tried to refuse.
Dammit… I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to… God dammit.
I just… I miss them. I miss them all so much.
She did her best to keep herself quiet, listening around for any of the harrowing scratching noises of the Grievers lurking around. Her shoulders trembled, the spasms sending streaks of pain throughout her entire body as she hunched in on herself, rolling onto her side. One of her hands gripped the sheets, knuckles as pale as the strands of hand fluttering around her face and dipping into her tears.
She couldn’t stop, so she let it all crash down as she slammed her eyes shut, weeping. I hope they’re okay, wherever they all are. I hope I’ll get to see them soon if I don’t make it out of here.
She let herself cry as long as she could throughout the night, not making any further attempts to keep them in. As her sobs slowly dissipated from her throat, her eyes caught onto another glimmer out in front of her. She sniffed, wiping her face before squinting and focusing on the gently bobbing figure out in front of her.
The small but stoic daisy, caught in a beam of moonlight, gently swaying and bouncing along. It swayed along with the stream’s gentle singing, entranced in its own little dance. When Rasbi continued to watch, it seemed to bounce along a little more, as if excited about the audience it was performing for. She couldn’t remember seeing such a little, lifeless thing that looked as joyful.
Just like me, the quiet forethought whispered. Small, trapped in a place you may not survive. The entire world is against you.
But we continue to live anyway.
Her chest was gripped from a sudden loss of breath, familiar words whispering into the back of her head from days, maybe even close to weeks now, before.
“For those we’ve lost. We survive, we continue.”
She slowly rolled back onto her feet, watching the daisy until its final dance number, petals gently flapping before settling down for the night, leaning towards the river again as if reaching for its rich refreshment.
As the flower settled, she couldn’t help but give it a weak smile. Even when things seem hopeless, you still continue along.
Even when things seem hopeless…
She glanced up at the sky, connecting the stars above. She forced herself to take a deep breath, rubbing at her damp eyes and feeling her heart and mind slow down again. As the sun slowly came up again, she inhaled the new air filling her lungs.
We survive. We continue.
But as she got that one glimmer of hope, the Maze suddenly let out a loud scream that almost sent her off her feet.
Rasbi cowered to the floor, hands flying over her ears as a high-pitched robotic shrill pierced the sky, followed by a low but loud groan that shook the floor under her. She stumbled on her own feet, crouching over and pressing her hands to her ears to block out the sudden loud noise. It was digging deep into her ears, ripping into her ear canal and dragging through painfully.
What the hell? What’s going on?
She whipped around, hearing a loud crash down farther along the section. A Griever stumbled into view, letting out tattered screams that sounded like they were being pulled from a slit throat.
Rasbi froze in fear, a wavering hope of the beast not seeing her shattering as the Griever shrieked, charging towards her. With her body jolted back into the familiar rhythm of running away, she was quick to dart through the corridors, the familiar pulse in her ears and the same tapping of her feet hitting the ground.
What was entirely new, however, was the desperate shrieking behind her as the beast chased after her. They usually sounded angry or hungry, but this one… It sounded pained. Panicked.
Her breath caught in her throat, making her hack out a glob of spit before continuing on, a mildly panicked thought woven into her head, Why does it sound faster than the others? What should I do?
She continued on, barely registering where she was heading until her feet took her along a familiar path, her heart dropping momentarily when she recognized the place she had crouched and hid away while Owen led the largest batch of Grievers away for the others to get out. She whipped around the corner that stretched towards Section Eight, the corpses of the other Grievers still rotting beside the gates as she swiveled around quickly, palming Mohwee’s sword and grasping it tightly with a thrumming heart as she waited for the Griever to catch up.
Is this where it ends for me? This weird supercharged Griever?
Regardless, she forced her mind to focus and stare intently at the corner, waiting. Her breaths evened out with her pounding heart, listening to the skittering of the Griever as it suddenly jerked around the corner, lit up by the early morning sunrise, and watched as it reared up, front limbs ready to strike. She tensed herself, sword flashing in the sun’s rays, and she bared her teeth in challenge.
Then the Griever crumpled in on itself, letting out a noise similar to broken static before collapsing on the floor. Rasbi stared at the beast, wincing as she heard the malfunctioning wires and clicks as it toppled over.
It twitched wildly for a few moments, but made no move to strike out as Rasbi edged closer cautiously, sword still grasped and stretched out. She kept herself poised and tense, ready to lurch away for a sudden reach as she slowly poked at one of the limbs that was stretched out.
It didn’t move. She tried again, using a bit more force, but no response came. She frowned down at the beast, studying the spiky ridges and its alien head as its mouth was stretched open in one last cry of defiance. How did… How did it die? I didn’t even attack it? What happened to it?
She backed away from it, still frowning and keeping an eye on it until she was certain it wasn’t going to suddenly rise up and devour her. When she was convinced it wasn’t going to, she let her weapon drop.
Griever died for unknown reason, her brain theorized, slowly sheathing the sword. Alright. Seems totally logical here.
But I heard that all across the Maze… The loud groaning, the screams of pain these monsters somehow feel… What happened?
She turned around, wanting to look back at the gates that she had let close on her days before with a confused sigh.
Then her breath hitched.
In front of her, being bordered by the previous Griever carcasses, the two gates were gaping, a pathway stretched out in front of her that she had only caught a glimpse of before it was shut on her face.
Section Eight, the final section that she previously watched close in front of her, was now wide open.