James Dashner Scorch Trials Novels & Stories

The relief it sent me and Ash to see her safe was insurmountable. She clung to my shirt, clearly missing us as much as we missed her. But something caught my attention—why did I detect Tarr’s scent on her? My brows furrowed in confusion. It couldn’t have been a mistake. I glanced around and saw my men assisting Tarr. Most of the vampires had been captured by the members of the Black Rose. “Well, well, long time no see, James,” Scar said with a wicked grin as he approached the man I had forcibly separated from Amber. James struggled to stand, his legs shaky.

The guild members' resolve held strong, and they emerged victorious once more. Finally, they reached the last floor. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as they entered the final room. Samuel's voice crackled over the communication devices, guiding their movements. As they stepped into the room, the sight that met their eyes was chilling. Greyson stood before them, his expression a mix of arrogance and defiance. He was flanked by his remaining henchmen, their guns aimed at the guild members. "Jota," Greyson's voice was mocking, his gaze flickering over the guild members. "You've come to face me at last, be ready to die."

Suddenly, Trish’s voice echoed in his mind: “Your undying love is your power, Scott. Your love… is the key.” The flame grew brighter—then blinding. The room flooded with a holy white light, pushing back the dark. Outside, the mansion’s black aura flared and burst, replaced by a glowing column of golden light. Scott surged forward. Jezebel swept her claw—Scott dodged and sliced it off. She screamed. He dove under her, rolled, and slashed again—the left wing came free in a spray of ichor. Jezebel, staggering, reeled back—but not before sweeping her massive tail and slamming Scott across the room.

"The ball is in your court. It still won't change the fact that I've scarred her for life. And neither you nor anyone else on this planet can undo what has been done." Adnan left him to bleed on the floor, taking his mother by the hand and pulling her out of the room. "Get your things," he said. "We're leaving." Her tears were silent. She'd thought that Yusuf would never again possess the power to make her cry. It was all she'd done during the early days of her marriage. But now, her tears weren't for her. She wept instead for what could have been. Her tears were those of remorse. She'd failed. As a mother and as a wife. To hear him say the things he'd said, something died inside of her that

Though impeccably dressed, he looked like a man who had been thoroughly used and discarded. He had been drained of all his worth—now thrown away like trash. The opening in the statue of the goddess closed back up slowly. Jameson scoffed, laughing at himself bitterly. "Jameson Schmidt, your life has been a big mistake. If reincarnation exists..." Before he could finish, the deafening roar of a helicopter overhead drowned out his words. It hovered above, casting its shadow over the glass shed. Then, there was a thunderous crash, and with that, the seemingly indestructible glass shed was destroyed.

Scott POV Everything was collapsing around us and Aldus stood at the center of it all, transformed into a monster, his body twisting with scales, claws, and horns like something ancient and forgotten by every race. Things looked bad. Really bad. But I wasn’t afraid. I stepped forward, flames curling around my fists—normal flames at first. But then something inside me snapped. The fear. The anger. The memories of everything this organization had done. And then the flames shifted. They darkened… deepened… twisted… until they burned a violent purple, hot enough to distort the air.

Chase shot out backward like a cannonball and crashed hard into a tree. "Bastard!" Chase struggled to stand. There was a dent in his chest, and it felt like his internal organs were squashed. He was in great pain. "Either you or I will die today, Chase Collins!" Scoot grunted coldly. The vital energy in his body boiled, forming a burning golden flame that scorched the plants all around him. He leaped into the air and raised his blade high. The blade was burning furiously, powerful heat emanating from it.

"Amaranth, you must have been begging me to save you, too, didn’t you? You must have felt so hopeless because of my dismissal. I could have saved you…" Then, tears began to stream from his face. "And yet, I chose to save this murderer and abandoned you… You and our baby. You must hate me..." Soon, the flames spread throughout the room. Reya had curled up from the pain of being scorched alive. She ended up in a similar state I was in when I died. Despite witnessing the tragedy, there was nothing I could do to call for help. Luther looked on at the horrifying display before calmly stepping into the column of smoke.

He held his phone and watched the video all night long. The next morning, when he looked in the mirror, he saw a man who looked like a vagrant—unshaven, haggard, and lifeless. He stared at his own reflection and muttered bitterly, "You deserve this." … On the day of my wedding, all my college classmates showed up, including Tristan. At first, I was worried he would cause trouble again. I didn't want to be disturbed by him anymore. Even with my good temper, I couldn't stand being constantly tangled up in his drama.

Siobhan cuts her off. “You’re done, Scàthach. I may have been complacent in all of your schemes this time, but I will not allow this to happen again.” The guy says. “You’ll be the first to die James, traitors, don’t live long.” Scàthach sneers at him. “Oooh I’m shaking in my boots,” James says in a high-pitched voice. Scàthach directs her hand towards James, and a fire whip springs to life and wraps itself around him. He screams in agony, the fire burning through his clothes and into his skin.