Gladers Maze Runner Novels & Stories

"Welcome to the Gauntlet Run. Racers will navigate a three-mile course through the Ravine Sector. Only the top four finishers advance. The rest are disqualified." Disqualified. Such a clean word for what really happened. The course map appeared on the screens. Narrow pathways, collapsing bridges, and a stretch called the Killing Floor where the path split into three routes. According to Ash's intel, only one route was safe. The other two led straight into traps designed to look like accidents. I touched my helmet, feeling the tiny camera Juno had installed. It was active. Recording. "Racers, take your positions." I moved to the starting line. A girl next to me was shaking so badly I could he

The ice rushed up to meet them, a blinding white wall. At the last second, the "Biological Key" synchronized. The false glacier iris-opened, a mechanical throat swallowing the gliders just before they could shatter against the ice. The Heart of the Machine They landed in a silent, white-lit hangar, the gliders skidding across the polished "Zero-Point" floor. The air here was thin and smelled of liquid nitrogen and "Deep-Data." Ethan emerged from the cockpit, his "strong frame" coiled and ready. He unstrapped Leo, pulling the boy into his "possessive" embrace. Aria was already out, her "piercing gray eyes" scanning the "Master-Ledger" access terminal.

To werewolves, carrying one lumber that would be weighted a ton was nothing. But of course, when they were in town, they have to pretend to have 4 people to carry it. “Do you have something for me?” Zack, the new member of the pack with his black hair and blue eyes, was asking Xavier for some works. “You can carry the lumber like the rest,” Xavier said as he was noting on the ledger that he was carrying. “No, he will not. He barely recovered,” Arthur said as he was grimacing at Xavier. The Beta rolled his eyes at the Gamma before he whistled.

It is better to go unnoticed as if it were a shadow. I go through the undergrowth that lines the street, careful not to make noise. I move quickly to go to the head of the caravan. Then we come to a camp with several tents. The marchers line up waiting to be seen. Apparently, Einar is so desperate for the Outcasts to fill his dungeon that even at this hour they have personnel available to recruit them.

The man gave a dark chuckle. A shiver ran down her spine but Yonnah barely moved. "Well it seems our work here is done. Let's go, gentlemen." The leader got up and went to the door with others following. When he was at the door, he turned back to woman kneeling on the floor. "I hope you don't regret your decision."

The maze of shoulder high glowing tubes could be accessed through the basement of any government building before joining up to one exit point. It sounded simple enough, except that their entire length was blasted with a constant stream of UV light, preventing any kind of shade from entering. The intensity of the light also meant that no human could make it through without dying from severe burns and heat stroke, taken or not - and there was no way we could get the clearance to have it turned off, not without the entire city being alerted and guards raining down on us. "Not if we make it through them in under three minutes, preferably two."

The dungeon of Cumoreen reeked of rot. Water dripped through the ceiling in slow, cruel rhythms. Somewhere in the dark, chains rattled and someone groaned. A constant reminder that mercy did not exist here. Glacy’s bare feet made no sound on the stones as she descended the steps, a basket of food in one hand, a flask hidden beneath her rags in the other. Her tattered dress hung loose, torn at the seams, caked with grime. To the guards, she was a servant werewolf girl who cleaned up after the Basilisks’. No one paused to see the mischief that sat like a sharpened pebble in her pink eyes.

"Can you actually run, or are you going to be a problem?” "I can run." "You are already limping." "I said I can run." He turned left. I ran. The maze was three floors, connected by stairwells that were not marked on any visible map, so you either found them by moving or you died waiting. The walls were concrete panels on slow hydraulic tracks, moving inward at a rate that was almost imperceptible until suddenly it was not. A corridor that was eight feet wide became six feet, then four, and if you were still in it at two feet, the sensors registered you as eliminated, and the panels completed the job.

The tree line ended abruptly, revealing the "Gap of Sorrows"—a narrow, wind-blasted pass that served as the only gateway into the Shadow Peaks. Hovering like three obsidian wasps at the mouth of the pass were the gunships. Their searchlights cut through the thinning snow, painting the white landscape with predatory circles of amber light. "They have a lock," Leo muttered, his thumb hovering over the harpoon’s manual igniter. "The moment we break cover, they’ll turn this hauler into a funeral pyre."

“No. Just angry.” They moved at dusk. The descent was perilous—through icy rock trails, overgrown mine shafts, and half-collapsed tunnels that hadn’t been touched in decades. Eden’s legs burned with every step, her breath fogging as she crouched beside a rusted grate embedded in the earth. “This is the entrance point,” Roman said, prying open the ancient vent. Cold air rushed from the opening, and the sound of distant machinery echoed upward. “No cameras. Probably thought the cliffs were defense enough.”