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The door to the drop ship opened slowly, the curtain being pulled back as Clarke and I reluctantly stepped forward.
The sight in front of us was indescribable. The once lively camp ground was now a graveyard, filled with the charred remains of grounders and any of the 100 that died out here. The trees surrounding there area were black and charred, and a light smoke lingered above the soil.
Stepping down slowly, I scanned the area, seeing nothing but bones. The rest of the 100 followed, their faces showing nothing but shock at the scene in front of them. I staggered over to the spot, the spot that I last saw Bellamy with the grounder. The two charred bodies that lay there were unidentifiable, which made me hope that he could have made it out, but I knew - deep down - that he was gone. Bellamy was dead and it was all my fault.
I decided to stay and fight.
I let him go to the foxhole alone.
I let him fight the grounder alone.
Before I could say anything, a red smoke ball, flew over the wall, landing next to my foot. Then another and another. "What the hell?" I mumbled, as the smoke seeped from the ball.
It felt like I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't help but cough to try and clear my throat of this gas. My vision started to blur and I could feel myself getting dizzy and weaker. My legs suddenly gave out, and I fell to the ground. "C-c-cla-rke..." I barely choked out before my throat closed up and my vision went black.
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Fighter >>>> Bellamy Blake [Book 1]
FanfictionBellamy/OC (Based on the TV Series 'The 100') "Fighting is all we have left. If we don't fight, we don't survive" I do not own Bellamy Blake, The 100 or any of the characters in the show. Holland Kane is the only character I own as well as any even...