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Literal and Metaphorical Death✔️

I was angry.

No, scratch that. I was livid. If looks could kill, I'm pretty sure everybody within five feet of Murphy would be dead.

My sisters were by my side, both slightly calmer than me, but still alert in case somebody did something stupid. And by somebody, I mean me.

I wanted Bellamy Blake's head on a stick and I wanted to put it right in the middle of camp. I wanted to spread his intestines across camp and use his skin as a fire starter after I cut it off his body. Then maybe I would use his bones as weapons to fight the grounders with.

The fact that he would go as far to act off of PEER PRESSURE! He is a grown ass man and he let peer pressure of children get into his head. What makes it even worse is that Murphy was on the receiving end.

If Blake thought I was dangerous now, oh, he was about to see just how dangerous I could get.

The girls stood in front of me as they were the only thing capable of keeping me back the moment Blake stepped out of that tent.

Murphy was pacing in front of us angrily calling out to the four bodies in the tent, Finn, Clarke, Bellamy and Charlotte, the little psycho. I don't think the little girl should die. Nobody should have their life taken unless its just, which is definitely is in this moment, but at the same time she's just kid.

But so was Wells.

Conflicting thoughts like these is why I don't like to get angry, because I think with my knives and not my brain.

I don't know how much time passed, but Murphy was getting angrier and I had managed to calm down slightly. The anger came back though as I saw Blake walk out of the tent, and immediately stood up, Tessa and Kayla blocking my path to him.

He was talking to Murphy but I payed his words no attention. I just focused on getting past the two in front of me and slowly choking the life out of him. Maybe even death by 1000 cuts. I'm feeling a little dramatic.

Blake turned his back suddenly, and that's when I took my chance. There was a log next to Murphy, which he picked up, prepared to hit Blake. Great minds think alike. I whistled to him and motioned for the log. He smirked before tossing it to me. I grabbed it, pushing past the girls in the process, and knocking him across the head at full speed.

Watching him fall to earth was almost poetic. How the light flashed in his eyes before they went dull, the way his arms flapped to like wings, the split that was already formed on his head after the impact, the sound of his body hitting the ground. It was damn near beautiful.

I also realized in this moment how insane I sound.

I dragged Bellamy to his tent, followed by Murphy and his goons. I say Blake down on his bed and sat across the room from him.

"What are you gonna do?" Murphy asked.

"I'm thinking about it. What about you?" I asked him back.

"It's not about the girl" he said.

I looked over in confusion as he stared a hole in Blake's head. Then it all clicked. He didn't even care about Charlotte, he wanted Blake dead. I wasn't fully against it, but I didn't know why he wanted him dead.

"Why?" I asked curiously.

"Because behind everything fucked up down here that's happened to us, he's behind it! He's the reason I almost died! That whatever the hell we want bullshit? I only went along with it because I like chaos but I'm not stupid, we wouldn't last two seconds down here on our own against the grounders. I might be selfish, maniacal and an asshole, but his selfishness is what's gonna kill us if he doesn't die first!" He fired at me.