We Are One || Bellamy Blake [1]

XVIII. Insane

CHAPTER 1X18

XVIII. Insane

Clarissa had been sitting down against a wall for almost an hour now. She didn't know if Clarke and Finn were alive or dead, but she was still hoping. If she didn't hope, she would have lost thing minutes ago. Not that she was that much sane, but she was angry.

Clary had been trying to fight against who she had become, and it was exhausting. She was different now, a different person and she would have to accept it.

"Anya will have no pleasure with your friends' death." The grounder watching over her spoke up for the first time, "Prove your worth and you'll be welcome."

"Where is Clarke?" She stood up, demanding an answer.

"Alive. For now."

Clary was confused, "We couldn't save Tris. Why do you even want us here?"

"We told you, Skai kru Kwin. Our healer is gone." He said.

Clarissa looked to her right, seeing a wall with small swords exposed. Not big ones, but ones she could handle. The instinct of survival was kicking in, she needed to get out of there; she needed to go back to her people.

Clary walked up to the wall, "Will I be able to talk to my friends?"

"Tomorrow they will all be dead. You won't have a people to be Queen of anymore."

Clarissa's heart stopped for a second, rage took over her. They were her people, she had worked too hard to keep them all alive. She had fought for them, and she wouldn't stop now. Besides, among that people were Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Monty and Jasper...

"What does the marks mean? Lincoln has them too, I've seen them. Deaths?"

It was a wild guess but right.

"Yes." The grounder confirmed.

The concept wasn't all that crazy, keeping track of how many lifes you took. Clarissa thought about it for a second, almost giving in to the idea.

"I have only really killed one person yet." Clarissa grabbed the smallest sword, her voice as dark as her soul in that moment, "Actually, two."

"Who? My people?"

She turned around, the sword behind her back, "One was my people."

"You killed your own people?" He asked surprised, "Who was the other?"

Clarissa approached him, "You."

Clary hit him in the face with the sword's end, making he fall on the ground.

He could have won her in a regular fight, Clarissa knew that. But he was petrified, too surprised to fight back. He was looking up at her without really knowing what to think. He didn't think the girl had it in her, she looked so broken and weak.

Clarissa then buried the sword in his chest, while still looking into eyes so she was able to see when he was gone. It scared her that she didn't feel a thing right in that moment.

. . .

The pain nudged from the darkness Clarissa had slipped in and she tried to open her eyes. She had dirt and blood on her face, and tried to wipe it with her hands. She was so thirsty.

Clary took a deep breath and sat down for a while.

The starry sky seemed strange to her as she tried to wipe her long blonde hair from her face, and orient herself. But first, the doctor in Clarissa cataloged her several injuries. The intense pain in her ankle told her that she had probably twisted it when she had fallen into the trap while running away from the grounder's camp.