?? ? ? ??????
? his heart ?????? a heavy fire ?
the maze runner, j. dashner.
?eternalrests ╱ 2020.
sonya?male!oc, group b fic.
book one in the ?????? tr...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ཻུ ༉ ⋆ ࿐ྂ ˖
𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑰𝑹 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑨 𝑭𝑬𝑾 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑺𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑰𝑵, a cure for the Flare was not one of them. No one could tell the young boy that there was a cure it was just false hope. He didn't believe in hope it seemed lost among everything else━hope slipped between his fingers along with the world it had completely crumbled beneath him.
Fear was something that was consumed by every non-infected human. The Flare an awful deadly virus that affected most of the population except the immunes. Or what people liked to call them Munies━they had got the privilege of not fearing the virus, but with that had came a price. The immunes had feared WICKED and wanted nothing more then their own freedom. The awful institution had used young immunes for what they called the "greater good" and Slate called it bullshit.
He had wished for the day to come where there was a cure when he was younger, but the older he got the more hope he lost. His hope had completely diminished like a flame━there was nothing left to persuade him that there was a cure. He called a cure a figment of WICKED'S imagination and that's all it would ever be to him. It was the main reason the he tried to escape the facility he wanted his freedom back. He didn't want to be apart of some experiment for something he didn't believe in.
ཻུ ༉ ・
Slate's head hung low blood seeping down his nose while he was being dragged by his arms. The crimson substance came in contact with his fingers as he wiped his nose. It kept streaming down his face it was dark it flowed slowly down his face like a river. Pain. He felt it all throughout his entire body he already felt the bruises forming against his pale skin. His head pounding as he was slowly being dragged down the halls of the WICKED facility.
He felt weak, tired, and unmotivated to move he had lost. He was slowly slipping in and out of conscious. It was as if his conscious was slowly floating away from him. His vision blurred he couldn't make out a single thing. He blinked slowly for a second trying to gain control of eyesight.
His heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears it was ringing then he opened his eyes. He exhaled.
He could see again.
The guards continued pulling him by the arms with his feet dragging along with him. They were sharp and demanding they had no mercy for the young boy.