Inferno

Chapter 53: Prison Break (Again)

The night that it all went down, Bellamy was certain that she was going numb. She just lay there on that cold floor, soaking up any body heat that she could muster—and she stared into the void of endless nothingness and darkness. Several hours ago, she had started losing feeling in her body—and now she just felt weightless and tired.

And by God, she was tired of it all.

Her fingers traced around the scar beneath her shirt—trying to remember how or when she had gotten it. But the memory was buried just below the earth and there was no way for her to dig it up. Her fingernails had been ripped from her body and it felt as though her hands had been sewn together.

The truth of the matter was that Bellamy Coin had accepted her fate. That her death was inevitable as it was slow. And that for however much it stung that none of those people were real—she would cling to the false memories that were there. She didn't have anything else left to give, anything else left to lose—not at this point. And if that meant holding onto a construct of her own where people were coming to get her (besides her mother, of course), then that's exactly what she would do.

Her mind drifted to the imaginary Tori. Though Alma Coin wasn't the most motherly person, Bellamy imagined that Tori was the manifestation of that motherly love that she was missing. It only made sense that way—that the people she created had to be modeled after people she already knew in her life.

Tori—what would brave Dauntless Tori do? Bellamy could almost see it in her mind's eye, the way that Tori would probably hold her. It reminded her of her mother and it gave her a small spark of warmth in her chest.

Just keep breathing. Just keep breathing.

She'd sing to her. Tori sang—just like Alma would sing to her in the memories. Bellamy could barely muster the voice to make the words of the song above a whisper. But she did her best.

"Deep in the meadow...."

All at once, sharp pains split through her mind and Bellamy gasped out in pain, writhing on the floor. A fiery jolt had appeared behind her forehead and was spreading over the rest of her body.

She had—she had sung that song to someone once. To comfort them. Who? Who had she been trying to help? Why couldn't she remember anymore?

A tear leaked out of her eye and Bellamy just blinked at the sensation. She didn't think she had enough water in her body to muster tears and yet—here was one now. Proving her wrong and that no matter what she did or was done to her, there would always be tears left to cry. It was sickening, that's what it was.

Bellamy wasn't given the opportunity to dwell on it. The lights flickered a few times and then went completely dark again—giving rise to an eerie red lighting in her cell. There was a buzzing sound that flooded her ears and it took Bellamy a whole minute to realize that the compound must have lost power somehow. That something—someone—was messing with the Capitol.

She had to move, had to get up—

Nearly falling as she clawed her way onto her feet, Bellamy forced herself up. It took holding onto the walls for her to move forward. Was this just another trick? Another Capitol torture device that was going to be used against her?

The mental debate lasted approximately five seconds—given the ADHD and amount of sedatives in her system, it wasn't that much of a surprise to the girl. She shoved the door open, finding sirens blaring loudly and red lights sparking through the hallway. It was a long hallway, stretching out for what seemed like forever.