Reaching Out | The 100

Chapter Eight: I'll Break This Prison

Clarke's POV

I shiver in the cold damp cell that i woke up in yesterday. At first I freaked out because I didn't know where i was, but I remembered quickly. It was hard to forget.

The look on Madi's face, which i could barely see through the bushes she was hiding behind, as they dragged me off. I can only hope they didn't catch her too.

From what i saw of the outside of the ship, i gathered that it's full of criminals and prisoners, why it came from space i have no idea.

We were taught that we were the only survivors in space, at least once the 12 space stations combined to form one united station. A day that we celebrate every year, Unity Day. But like most of my life, it was just another lie.

Unity day was actually the day we blasted Polaris station, the 13th space station, out of the sky, because they wouldn't agree to our terms. So much for unity.

We were told that we were the only survivors, but all 100 of us came down in a dropship to the earth 97 years after the apocalypse, we soon discovered that was wrong.

And now it seems that 'no other survivors in space' was just one more lie.

I perk up when i hear footsteps, and crouch down, ready to fight, but there are three strong looking people who come up to my cell door.

There's no way in hell i can overpower them. I may not be stronger than them, so I'll just have to be smarter.

They approach the door and just as they are about to open it, a sickly sweet smell fills my lungs. I immediately blow all the air out of my lungs, and hold my breath, but i know i can't hold it for long. And they know it too.

Eventually i see black spots dancing in my vision and my lungs are screaming for air. I  hold my breath for as long as i possibly can and they watch me, waiting silently.

I can't take the lack of oxygen anymore, and i give in, sucking in a lungful of air.

Then the world goes black.

***

I wake up in a cold chair with my hands and legs bound. My mouth gagged. I squirm and try and get out of my restraints but it's no use.

I can't quite see the hand that takes off my gag, the world is still fuzzy. The last of the drugs are still coursing through my veins, making my movements slow and heavy, making the world spin, and my vision blurry.

I breathe deeply from my diaphragm trying to get the old oxygen laced with drugs out of my lungs and let in fresh air.

A minute later I'm feeling a lot better and my eyes start to focus. There is a man staring right at me, with a murderous gleam in his eye. I swallow, and stare him in the eye.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" I demand. He chuckles to himself, "You're a feisty one that's for sure." He says and i scowl.

"I'm not going to tell you anything." I state coldly. Yet again he laughs, "I think you underestimate us. We have ways to make you talk." He tells me with a gleam in his eye.

Like that's supposed to scare me. It's my turn to laugh and he narrows his eyes at me.

"We will cut off your fingers one by one and peel off your skin to the bone..." he starts but is interrupted. The door opens and the lady who helped take me from my cell earlier steps in.