A/N: I know, I know, I'm late on updating. Hopefully you guys will enjoy this chapter and a little more background for Bellamy! Thoughts? I'd love to get some feedback! Thank you!
He wasn't a kind man, he never had been. Stern and quick to anger, everyone knew what he was like. Everyone steered clear of him. Calrun was not someone you crossed. Not even if you were a small child.
There wasn't a lot of restrictions on alcohol at the time, at least for the Dauntless members. After her mother died in a freak accident that claimed her life, and brought Bellamy into this world, Calrun began to drink.
The smell was nauseating, something that made her small nose crinkle up. She had only been six when it had gotten out of control. She had only been six when he had gone too far with his violence.
Disciple wasn't something new to Dauntless. Even the parenting, it wasn't gentle, not in the ways the parenting was done in other Factions. Here it was the law and it was hard, but it was the law.
One wrong word or step and she'd miss a meal. One mistake and it was likely she'd be hit.
People tended to look the other way when they saw something that made them uncomfortable. It wasn't just child-abuse. It was other things, too.
But that night, it had been the worst.
She had taken his knife, the one that he valued so greatly. She wanted to show him that she could throw it too. That she wasn't just a mouth to feed. That she had worth and value.
Almost instantly, Bellamy knew she had screwed up.
If not for the way that their shared room had been totally and completely decimated, then definitely by the growl that had torn from his throat. Books, ripped up. Toys, destroyed. Even her small little desk, broken in half.
Her eyes had gone wide as she stood in the doorway. "Dad—"
"You little bitch—"
Things were blurry after that. She knew that she had run. She knew that she had screamed bloody murder down the hallway. She knew he had tackled her. She knew that she didn't remember the rest.
What she did remember is the sensation of sticking a knife in someone's chest. Right into their ribs. He wouldn't stop hitting her. Wouldn't stop even when people tried to rip him off of her.
And she had collapsed, close to death herself.
When she woke up three days later, her hand was still firmly holding the blood-covered knife. The one thing she wouldn't let go of.
Tori was there. She was always there.
And Calrun? He was dead.
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Bellamy sat up with a slight shriek, eyes wide and the feeling of hands lingering on her throat. The only sound was the rushing of blood in her own ears. In her hand lay the same knife that had never left her side since that day.
A deep exhale left her lips and she leaned her head back against the stone of her alcove. For a moment, she just wanted to listen to her own breathing. Remind herself that she was safe here. That no one was out to kill her.
Well, maybe Griff. But he didn't scare her.
Her eyes flicked upwards, staring at the little carvings above her head. Names etched into the stone, a symbol that she had grown. That she had survived, that she had people who cared about her now.
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Inferno
Fanfiction"Once you know the truth, there's no going back." Bellamy is just another orphan living in the Dauntless Faction. She's just trying to survive, she doesn't care about the government of her world. When faced with treachery, rebellion, and the know...
