Trapped - Gally x Reader - TMR

Minho stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I heard it too."

He placed a hand on my shoulder dramatically. "It's Gally 'oh, (Y/N), (Y/N), come back to me!"

I shoved him back, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, real funny."

I shook my head. Focus.

"Come on, a few more hours till the inner ring. Then we will look around there." Minho said, already jogging again.

We jogged for the next hour and half and I could feel my lungs burning. The unease feeling from before didn't leave me.

We took a short break. Drank and ate something small, before we continued.

When we reached the next turn, Minho nodded ahead. "Alright, now..."

"Left."

He looked over his shoulder. "No, we should go.."

"I said left." I didn't even know why I said it. The words just came. And I turned left.

Minho studied me, eyes narrowing. But he followed me. Feeling something was off.

A sharp ache build at the base of my scull, spreading like a poison. My neck burned. I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake it off.

At the next crossing, I barely paused. "Right."

Minho didn't question me.

But I don't know what I was doing. Something was pulling me in. Deeper. Calling me.

"We should be returning by now, (Y/N)." Minho said, looking around.

"Left." I started to jog faster.

And then...just ahead... movement.

A darl figure disappeared around the corner.

My chest tightened.

"Hey!" My voice cracked. "You there! Stop!"

Minho skidded to a stop behind me. "What?!"

I ran.

The figure was fast. It turned another corner, slipping just out of view. My breath came sharp, uneven. My fingers curled around my knife handle as I sprinted.

"(Y/N), what the hell, if this is just a prank, I'm gonna tell Newt!"

I didn't listen. I sprinted, rounded the other corner and stopped..

Dead end.

I stumbled, breathing hard. No, no! I saw it!

I pressed my hand against the wall, my pulse throbbing against my ribs. "Check the walls," I gasped. "They had to go somewhere - there must be a door!"

Minho swore under his breath but ran his hands over the stone anyway. "This is messed up," he muttered. "This is really, really messed up."

The air pressed in. The pain in my head pounded like a second heartbeat. Someone was here.

Then my fingers brushed against something. Carved.

"Minho," I rasped. "There's something here. Help me."

I fumbled for my knife, fingers clumsy, heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted out. The blade caught on the vines, slicing through them. The more I cut, the more was revealed.

Minho crouched beside me, shoving ivy aside with his hands. Then we saw it.

Names.

Dozens of names. Carved into the stone.