Daemon Dagon was the same age as John Murphy,but yet,looked older then that. They had almost floated him immediately because he had looked that much older. Then,he was sent to the ground,meeting the one and only,John Murphy. And the one the boy foll...
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CHAPTER ONE: the 48
➼︎➼︎➽︎B̴e̴f̴o̴r̴e̴y̴o̴u̴g̴o̴➼︎➼︎➽︎
DAEMON DAGON RAN THROUGH THE WOODS, ALONG SIDE BELLAMY. There was a spear in Bellamy's hand, and a spear in Daemon's. They glanced back every one in a while.
Bellamy pulled Daemon to his side when they had stopped.
"Bellamy? Daemon?" A voice asked, a low familiar one.
The only reason Daemon didn't throw his spear, was because he had recognized the voice, but he still held it tight, in the air and ready to throw at any moment. Monroe and Sterling slowly stood up, having been crouched down to hide behind a fallen tree.
"Get back down," Bellamy ordered, after letting out a sigh of relief.
All had moved to be hidden behind the tree.
"You were followed?" Monroe lowly questioned.
"Quiet," Bellamy ordered again. "Have you see Finn?"
"Finn's alive?"Sterling asked.
"He was. He was separated from us," Daemon answered. "We knew that they would launch the rockets, so we ran. But, one of them has followed us."
"How'd you guys get out?" Bellamy questioned.
"We, uh, saw The Ark come down. And we thought we'd come get help," Sterling explained. "Piece of it came down this way. Monroe thinks it's Mécha, but personally I thi-"
They heard something off in the distance, which had made them stop talking. Bellamy looked at them. "Follow me. Stay low and quiet." Bellamy moved forward, Daemon behind him.
The four hide behind the trees, until they had seen the grounders-or maybe the reapers- it was difficult to see which manic group it was from the distance. They dragged along two people, tied to their ropes. One of the people had fallen, the other worked at trying to get them off the ground.
Until the man-a grounder- had gotten off his horse, stepping in the man before flipping him over and pressing a knife to his throat. "No! No!" A familiar voice yelled.
"Finn," Daemon lowly muttered. They had looked away.
"That's one. I lost three hundred," the man says to Finn, advancing towards him. Finn had tried to stand up, but had fallen and instead crawled back. The grounder extended his arm. "Drink. You're lucky. I need to keep one of you alive to talk to the commander."
