The walls creaked and groaned in the wind, the night sky looming over like a dark cloud of dread. The ground was loose and muddy as if a storm had come through the area. Tiny pebbles fell from the top of the wall, rolling until it impacted the soft floor with a thump. The small drizzle of rain felt like daggers in his bare skin. The sky rumbled, as if upset and annoyed, but as to what, Slyiven didn't know.

He continued down the path of the muddy terrain, an arrow drawn and ready for him to shoot the arrow through the bow if he so much as saw a glimpse of danger. His steps were short, quiet. It was routine, he knew what he had to do by heart.

However, something was off. It was too quiet. Even if it was a good thing, he only heard his footsteps. Where were the rest of the Hunters? He couldn't remember them splitting up.

He didn't even remember them exiting the gate that morning.

Something was wrong.

In his gut he knew that he was in danger. He wanted to turn around but he had no idea which way was the gate. When he reached towards his ear with his hand to ask the Lookout that should have been watching in the tower, he noticed that his communicator was not in his ear.

He was alone in the Maze.

Dread set in quick, but he took a deep breath in, continuing his short and quiet footsteps. He had to stay calm, if he panicked the Craindre could wake up. If the Craindre woke up… well then he wouldn't survive.

He was alone, a great target for the Craindre. There were no distractions, no other people to try to divert attention away from the Craindre's target.

He continued, his eyes searching and scanning every pebble, every blade of grass. The moment something was off, he would know. Thunder rumbled once again. He looked up, trying to peer over the walls. It was no use, the walls were over fifty feet. He had to be close to camp to even see the top of the Lookout tower.

He took another step before he froze, hearing a clicking noise, as if there was a timer. His heart rate sped. He knew that sound. That dreaded, horrible sound. It sent chills down his spine, freezing him in place. He knew he couldn't have that.

He gripped onto his bow, turning slowly to the lion like monster in front of him. A Sourire, a white and ominous creature stared at him with dull red eyes. His paws were covered in dry blood, the crimson red a stark contrast to the lions white, blank fur. The clicking noise did not stop as the creature stared at him.

He raised the bow in his left hand, drawing the arrow back. The creature didn't even flinch. Syliven took a deep breath before he let go of his arrow, flying directly towards the creature's heart.

Just before the impact, the arrow made a slight curve, barely grazing the paw of the animal. It was almost as if there was a barrier preventing him from killing the bloodied animal.

Slyiven didn't hesitate to grab another arrow, but before he could even draw the bow back, the creature launched on top of, the creature's claws out and scratched at his face.

Syliven felt numb in pain as he felt all of the scratches. Every single second felt like an eternity as his body was ripped to shreds by the creature. At some point, his vision turned black.

Soon the scratches and each distinct sign of pain washed away, and Slyiven opened his eyes to look directly at his room's ceiling. His breath was heavy as he stared at pillars holding up the building. He heard a soft snore from his roommate.

He laid in silence, not wanting to wake his roommate. His stomach groaned like the thunder in the Maze he had heard in his dream. Hunger wouldn't go away, but Syliven had to stay quiet. It was still dark outside, most likely early morning.

He would get food soon, then he would be able to relax. It was just another nightmare. Nightmares did not predict the future.

Slyiven wanted to fall back asleep, but the eyes of the Sourire left him frozen, unable to sleep. He decided to pass time by counting the number of rings in the wood of his bed frame. He ran his finger over each ring he counted, keeping the count inside of his head.

The room was silent other than the small snores from his roommate. It was peaceful, much more peaceful than his nightmare. His heart calmed, the nightmare slipping his mind the more he was awake. By the time it was breakfast, he had forgotten about the bloodied paws and the scratches, and he continued the same schedule they had every day.


Welcome all to my Selection story inspired by the Maze Runner! I loved the series when I was younger, and I thought how about people submit characters to be stuck in the Maze. All of the information is on the profile! This is just a chapter to show you the first character! I will be accepting 14 teens between the ages of 13 - 19. All Genders and Sexualities welcomed.

This story will have themes of violence and gore, reader discretion is advised. Some aspects of this story may not be suited for younger readers.

People who are planning on submitting, please note that your character may get injured during the story. If you do not want that, please let me know. I'll listen to any ideas anyone has, I'm really excited to see everyone's ideas. This is a short chapter.

I don't have a deadline for the forms, but please make it soon. I can't wait to get this story rolling! I have so many cool and fun ideas.

Thanks a bunch!