Minho: A Fictional Narrative

Words: 725
Pages: 3

Minho was sitting down, staring at a wall. He still couldn’t get over Ben’s death. Ben was one of Minho’s best friends, and had been with him since the beginning of the Glade. “You have to take me,” said Alby. “We need to find out how he was stung.” “Agreed,” Minho said, not looking up. “Tomorrow, I will take you out into the Maze. There, we will explore Ben’s route.” He paused. “In the meantime, get some rest. Meet me in the Map House at sunrise tomorrow.” The sun rose early that morning as Minho woke up and packed his stuff, grabbing his spear, which glistened in the morning light. “Newbie’s still asleep,” Minho muttered under his breath. “Hey Minho,” Alby whispered from behind. “You ready?” “Yeah,” Minho sighed, “Let’s go.” …show more content…
“Left!” Minho shouted. “Right!” As he gave directions, Minho navigated his way through the Maze, with Alby trying to keep up. He wasn’t used to this much physical exertion. After jogging into deeper sections of the Maze, Minho abruptly stopped. “This is it,” he said. “This is where it happened.” Alby and Minho stood in a moment of silence, remembering their friend who had lost his life. As Minho turned his head, observing a more open section of the Maze, his heart stopped. A Griever. Minho’s instincts took over. He slammed Alby against an opposing wall. “Griever,” Minho whispered, being as still as possible. They peeked around the wall. It was still there, and had not changed position. After waiting for what seemed like hours, Minho broke the silence. “I think it’s...dead.” Minho slowly walked towards the lifeless creature, it’s mechanical pieces lying in a slime-covered mess. Everything was still attached. Alby began to walk over, …show more content…
“He must of killed the thing.” “But how?” Alby responded. “It’s huge.” “No idea,” Minho sighed. “All I know is that they both put up a fight. And that Ben was stung.” Alby ran his finger across the fleshy part of the Griever, picking up a layer of grease and slime. Just then, a grinding, screeching noise came from the monster. As their eyes widened, their feet frozen in place, the lifeless creature began to rise. “Oh, ****!” Minho yelled. “Run!” Alby only made it twenty feet before the Griever got to him. One of it’s mechanical arms extended, revealing a large needle. It twisted, than drove straight into his chest, as Alby cried out in pain. Minho turned around. He now had to decide whether or not he would risk his life for his friend. He chose Alby. Minho pulled out his spear, and sprinted straight at the Griever, filled with rage. When he found his target, a fleshy bulge that resembled an eye, he used all of his possible strength to strike. The Griever went ballistic, screeching and writhing in pain. It took off, rolling through the Maze with the spear still attached. Minho heard screams from Alby. But he was no longer in pain. Alby stood up straight, with drool pouring out of his