Trapped - Gally x Reader - TMR

40. The Other Side

I lunged to help, but Jeff got there first. He shoved his spear into the creature's side with a roar.

The Griever screeched and twisted...and took Jeff with it.

"No!" Winston shouted, but it was too late.

Jeff was gone.

Minho screamed the final numbers to Teresa.

Another boy was snatched by a tail and thrown over the edge like a rag doll.

"Open it!" Minho shouted.

The code flashed.

The doors groaned.

And suddenly...the walls began to move, smashing down onto the Grievers who shrieked in rage.

And then...

Darkness.

The next thing I knew, another door hissed open behind us.

No one spoke.

It was a tunnel...metal, cold, humming with electricity. A low buzzing filled the silence as we turned around and slowly walked toward it. Every footstep echoed.

We didn't say a word. Not even Chuck.

At the end of the tunnel, a glowing green light pulsed above a door.

EXIT.

Frypan looked up and muttered, "Seriously?"

Thomas reached forward, hand shaking, and pushed the handle down.

The door creaked open.

What waited behind it hit me like ice.

A soft, dark-blue light filled the room in a cold, familiar glow. I had seen it before...in dreams that felt too real. The rhythmic beep of an alarm pulsed through the room. The same sound over and over.

Glass crunched beneath my boots. Broken lights, blood smears across the walls and floor. Bullet holes in the steel. Bodies. People. Laid out on the ground, limp. Some slumped against the walls, others collapsed on the floor with guns still in their hands. Some were covered...

It looked like a war zone.

Two bodies lay on metal tables, zipped in thick black bags. I didn't want to ask who they were. I didn't want to look long enough to find out.

Was this what we were fighting to reach?

In the corner, walls covered in screens flickered. Footage of the Glade. The forest. The fields. Everything.

"No," I breathed.

I moved toward the monitors. My eyes scanned the Glade, desperate, wild.

Come on... come on... please...

But the fields were empty.

No one. No movement. Not even a shadow.

No one was there.

Thomas stood beside me now. He stared at the screens, then at the control panels.

I looked at him, then at Teresa. The way we looked at each other...it wasn't confusion. It was horror. Recognition.

We knew this place.

We remembered.

We worked here.

We sat in this room and watched them like lab rats. Watched them starve, fight, bleed. Watched people die. Watched them scream.

Why did we do this? Why?

I stumbled back from the screen.

Thomas stepped toward a panel. A large red button blinked slowly.

He looked down and pressed it.

The screens flickered and then a face appeared.

A woman. Blonde. Middle-aged, maybe older. Her expression was calm. Too calm. Like all of this was normal.

"Hello. My name is Dr. Ava Paige. I'm Director of Operations of the World Catastrophe Kill Zone Department.

If you're watching this, that means you've successfully completed the maze trials. I wish I could be there in person to congratulate you, but circumstances seem to have prevented it."

Then the shooting started.

"I'm sure by now you must all be very confused. Angry. Frightened."

She had no idea.

"I can only assure you that everything that's happened to you...everything we've done to you...it was all done for a reason."

Thomas's jaw clenched beside me. I saw his fists curl.

"You won't remember, but the sun has scorched our world. Billions of lives lost to fire, famine, suffering on a global scale. The fallout was unimaginable."

My eyes didn't blink. The pictures were horrible.

"What came after was worse. We called it the Flare. A deadly virus that attacks the brain. It is violent. Unpredictable. Incurable.

Or so we thought," she continued, smoothly. "In time, a new generation emerged. One that could survive the virus. Suddenly, there was reason to hope for a cure."

She paused.

"But finding it would not be easy. The young would have to be tested. Even sacrificed. Inside harsh environments where their brain activity could be studied. All in an effort to understand what makes them different..."

She looked directly into the camera. Into us.

"...What makes you different."

I felt like I was going to be sick. A test? A sacrifice? Was that all this was to them? Were we just data?

"You may not realize it... but you're very important."

Important. That word felt like poison now.

"Unfortunately, your trials have only just begun, as you'll no doubt soon discover. Not everyone agrees with our methods. Progress is slow. People are scared."

Yeah, no shit.

"It may be too late for us. For me. But not for you. The outside world awaits."

Then she pulled out a gun.

"Remember: WICKED is good."

The screen went black when she pulled the trigger.

Silence fell again. The alarm had stopped. Only the faint hum of electricity remained.

I didn't know whether to scream, cry, or laugh.

"Is it over?" Chuck's voice was small, hopeful.

Newt rubbed the back of his neck, limping slightly as he stepped forward. "Well... she said we're really important."

Minho whispered: Well, what are we supposed to do now?"

Thomas shook his head slowly. "I don't know," he said, voice low. "But I guess... let's get the hell out of here."

And then..

"(Y/n)."

One word. My name.

Spoken firmly.

From behind us.

We all froze.

I turned around.