𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 | 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳

{5} Scar

Y/N's POV
The Glade was dark but not quiet at night, so one could hardly claim it to be peaceful. However, Y/N found the sound of grasshoppers and swinging hammocks, (along with the occasional horrifying Griever whirr and unnerving Maze groan), to be lulling: hence she slept well most nights.

Tonight wasn't most nights.

She was suddenly awoken by the cold kiss of metal to her neck and the warm press of a hand to her mouth- Teresa was standing over her with a terrifying expression; her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, her mouth full of saliva and a guttural sound came from her throat every few breaths- she'd been stung.

"Can't, not right... must, need to! Her fault, her fault..." Teresa whispered maniacally whilst pressing further into Y/N's mouth and neck with her hand and blade respectively.

The increased pressure made Y/N's body ice cold as she felt a slow trickle of blood come from the pierced skin on her neck.

Terror simultaneously numbed and electrified her.

Teresa's eyes flicked skittishly between Y/N's terrified face, the ground and the empty air.

Y/N's eyes widened in terror as her heart rate increased. Her hand began looking for the blade she always kept at her waist- a gift from Newt after a particularly vile comment from one of the boys, for which he got a week in the Pit. There hadn't been any problems since. Until now.

Aimlessly grabbing air and getting increasingly panicked, Y/N didn't feel Teresa lift the knife from her neck and place it on her face.

"Their favourite...always the perfect subject...pretty, pretty face!" Teresa spat softly at Y/N as she increased the pressure over Y/N's eyebrow, beginning to jaggedly trace a crooked line down her face and around her eye as Y/N thrashed in pain and her screams were muffled by Teresa's clamped hand.

Crimson blood dripped down her face as Y/N finally grasped her knife and jammed it into Teresa's side. Teresa wailed a horrible, animalistic wail as she dropped her knife, staggering away from Y/N in order to grasp her side.
Gasping intensely, Y/N began to get up and run, screaming "HELP! PLEASE!", before being tackled to the cold and dewy midnight grass by Teresa.
This time weaponless, Teresa grabbed Y/N's neck with both hands and began squeezing.
She squeezed and squeezed and squeezed, all the while trying to avoid Y/N's clawing hands as they scraped at Teresa's face desperately.

Y/N hopelessly opened and closed her mouth as if she were begging the world for air it couldn't supply.
Panic threw her heart up into her throat to replace the lack of oxygen there.

I'm going to die.
I'm going to die.
I'm going to die.

As Y/N's face purpled and her hands began to fall weakly, a loud thudding sound was heard as Teresa was tackled by a shadowy figure- Minho.

As soon as the weight of Teresa's hands on her neck was gone, Y/N turned over onto her side and began coughing, hacking terrible coughs- she couldn't calm herself down enough to stop either, so she just kept panicking and coughing and choking and thinking:

I'm going to die.

The thought was so deeply and chillingly ingrained in her head that it wouldn't leave.

Another figure, (presumably Alby), followed after him to help, as Y/N felt another pair of footsteps running across the ground towards her before collapsing beside her.