GRIM REAPER¹, bellamy blake

032 ━━ crimson

HELP I JUST REALIZED HIS NAME ISNT CAIN ITS CAGE LOL ive heard it wrong every single time ive watched the 100- subtitles r my friend i guess ;-; i dont think ive actually put his name yet but omg-

is it just me or did u guys hear cain too??? asdjghagd

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MONTY PULLS up another monitor, observing the new president of Mt. Weather. Cage takes the radio without a second of hesitation, staring at the ground while he speaks, "This is President Wallace. You have my attention."

Clarke's eyes dart between Cage and Dante, "I have your father. If you don't let my people go, I'll kill him."

Cage's eyes find the camera and it's as if he's making direct eye contact with Clarke. Iona, at the mention of the word kill, visibly perked up, taking her eyes off the monitor and glancing over to Clarke, who was still staring as if Cage could see her.

Iona doubted Clarke had it in her to kill anyone, let alone an elderly man. Iona, however, would be pleased to do it if she didn't, smiling to herself at the thought.

It's been too long since she's drawn another's blood. It was like an addiction for her, to kill. Iona had never been the type to crave murder, but she'd always been drawn to the crimson, the screams, the dull ache in her heart as she watched the life drain from someone's eyes.

Bloodlust was, by now, her best friend. It was the remainder of her broken family- since all of them had been stolen from her by someone else's craving for blood- and, in a strange way, she had a deep connection to it.

The marks on her katana speak as her truth.

It's not as if Iona has always been this way, however. She's always been strong and brutal, but there was a time she'd quiver in the face of battle. Her hands would shake and her blade would fall to the ground, like a heavy burden in her hand.

Once upon a time, Iona would even cry for the dead.

However, since she realized that perhaps blood was the only way to survive in this wicked world- and her even more wicked mind-, she's learned to accept her fate as a murderer.

Call her vicious, call her heartless, call her a monster; she calls it survival of the fittest- and Iona is certainly the fittest.

When Iona's gaze absentmindedly finds Bellamy's, she finds a similar passion in his eyes- one that was a reflection of the overwhelming feelings in hers- and she hums to herself. It was a subtle contact, maintained for only seconds, but it had Iona relaxing back into the wall, arms releasing from their previously tense status.

He looked away first, giving way to the pressure, and Iona's stare lingered for a moment before she glanced over at Clarke.

"How do I know you have him?" The radio sounded, and Iona could see the flash in Clarke's eyes. Iona wasn't sure what was more intimidating, the fact that Clarke didn't seem scared of the idea her conversation could be the groups downfall, or that she hadn't even thought about it.

Clarke reached her arm out to Dante, offering him the radio. He took it between his hands, saying, "Stay the course, Cage."

At this, Cage's expression reflected that of confliction. His face hardened and Iona could sense the cogs turning within his head. However, he still stood his ground, saying nothing in response to his father.

"I thought you said this guy was on our side," Iona muttered distastefully, glancing over at Bellamy.

He narrowed at Dante, but he remained silent.

Clarke took her radio back whilst Iona glared daggers at Dante, threateningly squaring up whenever he glanced at her. Iona really didn't like this old jackass of a man.

"You don't know me very well," Clarke said threateningly. Cage still didn't say anything, but he was beginning to shake from anger. Clarke saw this, turning back to the monitors and approaching them, "This ends now. Release my people."

Cage shook his head, "I can't do that."

"It would mean the end of our people, Clarke."

Iona immediately interrupted, "No one fucking cares about your people, you asshole. You're lucky you're still alive!"

Iona's hand went to her katana, eyes narrowing angrily.

She was getting tired of him playing victim. He was in their custody, yes, but he wasn't being tortured like everyone else. The treatments were very different, and he had no room to talk. After what the Mountain Men had been taught, they didn't deserve to live.

Clarke seemed to have the same idea, because suddenly, she was turning around, clicking to load her gun. Iona's eyes widened slightly, before she, too, was holding up her katana threateningly.

And this time she had no plans of putting it away without a drop of blood upon the blade.

"No-no!" Bellamy instantly argued. Iona wondered how he could find opposition in a time like this. This man- this monster- had put him, Iona, and both of their people in danger. Some of them had even died along the way.

For once, Iona didn't get that cozy feeling around Bellamy. Instead, she looked at him with just as much disgust as she was Dante.

"We need him; both of you know that."

Clarke shook her head, "I need Cage to believe me more."

Then, she was grabbing the radio, exchanging similar looks with Iona. "Don't make me do this," She said, but it sounded like she had no opposition against what was about to happen- and neither did Iona.

Cage looked right into the camera, visibly torn between the two goals, before shaking his head. His voice was shaky, his eyes fluttering open and closed, "Dad, I'll take care of our people."

Dante appeared surprised at his son's choice for only a moment, but he looked between the two women threatening his life.

"None of us have a choice here."

Iona shook her head, "No. You did; you just made the wrong choice."

Then, without a second of hesitation, Iona was stepping forward, hand on Dante's shoulder, before she thrust the katana right into his abdomen, twisting it back and forth.

A sickening grin came over her face when she watched his body fall to the floor, an anguished cry escaping Dante's lips.

Her bloodlust satiated, but at what cost?

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