No Way Out ➵ John Murphy

14 //

FOURTEEN
❝i have a conscience and it's never fooled,
but it's prone to be overruled.❞
[ MURPHY'S POV ]

He was jammed into a dark cell, his hands soon wound with metal chains to keep him in line. The cell smelt of mildew and the floors were dirty and wet, not to forget the walls—which consisted of charcoal-coloured bricks with unknown liquids dripping through the cracks. But that wasn't even the worst part, no—he could handle a scummy cell and the isolation, what he couldn't handle were the people in his company.

He was not alone in his imprisonment. Scattered around the cell were other prisoners, all of them familiar faces—yet not friendly, all of them here because they were strong enough not to take the key.

His situation worsened when the cell bars swung opened and another prisoner was thrown into the mix. Pike joined the rest of them, kicking and screaming. Murphy had always harboured a hatred or the Earth Skills teacher—the man underestimated him and Murphy never liked anyone who didn't see how intelligent he could be, or was. He remembered the man berating him in class, staring him down—hitting him, shoving him, and then choking him with such hatred, and Murphy had no idea what the source of that hatred was.

Murphy smirked at his former teacher, who was struggling in his chains, distressed. "What are the odds?"

The man's brows furrowed as he took in the teenage boy sitting at his feet. "John Murphy?"

Murphy gave him a nonchalant wave, the smirk unwavering. "Told you I'd survive."

"You should've killed me on that battlefield," Indra spoke, interrupting their reunion. "I won't make the same mistake."

Indra yanked on her chains that were hung on the bricks, ripping them from the wall and freeing herself from her corner. Murphy watched as she took the pointy edge, that had been hammered into the bricks and threatened Pike with them.

She dug the end of her chains into his skin, again and again, and Murphy cringed as he watched the blood drip down his skin. The elder man squirmed in pain but never showed any emotion as Indra attacked him.

"You can't break me, Grounder." He hissed out and Indra hit him across the face.

"If you want her to stop, maybe you should try shutting up." Murphy snapped at Pike, irritated by their display after enduring it for hours.

"There's only one way this stops." Indra said, gripping her chains tightly and whipping Pike with him until he let out a deep groan

Murphy pushed himself to his feet—hitting his breaking point. "What is wrong with you people? He is strong, we're gonna need him if we're gonna fight our way out of here—listen to me."

Indra paused at the incline in his voice.

"Our real enemy is out there," he pointed beyond their cell bars. "Jaha has an army of chipped soldiers; they don't feel any pain, that means they're not gonna stop until all of us either join them or die."

He tried not to think of Layla as he spoke those words but it didn't work, he pictured her anyway. She pictured her torturing people, killing, manipulating—being completely robotic to all ALIE's demands. Those images made him feel nauseous, they made his stomach jump to his throat; Layla was kind and she had always been gentle. If she removed the chip from herself, she would be disgusted with her actions—Murphy feared for that day, knowing if she knew all the terrible things she had done, all the things she forgot, it would break her, turn her into a shell of herself even more than she was now.

Indra moved to finish off Pike, ignoring his speech for them to rally together. Another Grounder stopped her, yelling in a language Murphy hadn't quite grasped yet. Indra never moved from Pike, still holding a blade to his throat.

"Ask yourself this," he said, attempting to reason with her once again. "Do you want your revenge or do you want your people to live?"

Finally, Indra backed down but not without leaving a lingering threat Pike's way. She stationed herself back into the position the guards at put her and slumped there, quietly brewing.

Murphy turned back to Pike, who looked relieved and impressed with Murphy—he liked that even less than when Pike looked disappointed."

"Go float yourself," He said, his words biting. "Everything I learned, I learned on the ground."

He sat back on the dirty floor, his back facing Pike. He sucked in a breath and tried to calm himself down, but their was no real calm in isolation. He only had his mind to keep himself busy, which was not as place he wanted to be.

And even though he had left her, abandoned her—Layla was his most reoccurring thought. He had left her to forget her, to survive and thrive in his own accord, away from any temptation of the City of Light.

But it was Layla who had forgotten him. When had been escorted out of the throne room, he and been angry and he had been struggling tirelessly against their strong hold on his arms. But when he turned the corner and saw Layla standing there—he felt he might being getting a second chance he didn't exactly deserve. Until her eyes shone over him, brows furrowing as she was trying to figure out who he was, and then she met his eyes again and they held no recognition of him whatsoever. They held nothing but a blank stare and then confusion when he had said her name.

Murphy had imagined reuniting with Layla a few times after he had left her standing on the edge of the land as the boat he was on drifted away at sea. Each time he thought of it, he always pictured her angry, foaming-at-the-mouth mad. He would smirk at her and she would frown, probably stepping closer to shove him until he stumbled and muttering obscenities his way. Anger he could deal with, he had been familiar with it his entire life, he knew if she was angry, if she was betrayed—he could charm her again until she no longer hated him.

He hadn't been prepared for her to take the chip. He thought he had enough influence on her that she knew better than to swallow that bullshit piece of silicone—he guessed she probably never thought he would leave her all by herself.

But it bothered him, it unnerved him, to see Layla look like him like he was no one, as if he was nothing. That was a million times worse than any anger she could have directed at him because he had felt like nothing his whole life but Layla had always looked at him as if he was more, until now.

Here's Murphy's POV because you all asked for it! Also I entered this story in the Wattys but honestly I have no idea what that really means.