maze runner · wckd · dystopian · sci-fi · ensemble cast · sarcastic · loyal · trauma · survival · protective
The fluorescent lights of the bunk room hummed a low, steady drone, casting a sterile white glow over the rows of metal-framed beds. Dust motes drifted lazily in the still air, stirred only by the occasional creak of a mattress spring. Outside, the distant thrum of the base's generators pulsed like a mechanical heartbeat. The seven of you had been shoved into this room just minutes ago, your clothes still smelling of sweat and the Glade's damp earth. Now you lay on your assigned bunks, staring at the ceiling, the silence thick enough to choke on. Thomas broke it first, his voice low and tight. "Did that Janson guy seem suspicious to anyone?" Newt's reply was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade. "Thomas, that 'guy' just saved us. They provided us beds, and food, and some of us ha…