ISABELLE, bellamy blake [CURRENTLY EDITING]

seventeen

isabelle
bellamy blake 𝘹 fem!oc
© WANDARYEN ──── 2024

"Glad you made it," Murphy's head rolled backwards with a devious smile stretching across his face. "Now start tying yourself up with those red straps."

Isabelle silently rose to her feet with caution. Murphy comfortably pointed the gun in her direction. "Don't move princess." She gave him a curt nod while holding her hands up. "Murphy, you're the one calling the shots now — you have a choice. Don't do this."

"I have every right to do this."

Bellamy stared at the back of Murphy's head with his eye slightly twitching from the amount of fear and anger that was currently pumping in his blood. Isabelle managed to press herself up against the wall, trying to put as much distance as possible between her and the gun.

"Get the gun out of her face Murphy." Bellamy's voice was low and intimidating, but his reaction earned a smirk from the younger boy. "What was that?"

Bellamy clutched his hands into tight fists at his side, ready to pounce on him at any moment. "I said get the fucking gun out of her face!"

Murphy chuckled under his breath and finally pulled the gun away from Isabelle's direction but waved it towards Bellamy's instead. "Did you two confess your love for each other finally? In fact I thought it would be a great idea to keep Isabelle here for that exact reason."

Her eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and disgust. "What are you talking about?"

He used the back of his free hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. With a shrug, he said, "Yeah I thought I'd give Bellamy a chance to say goodbye before I killed him. At least then you'd know his feelings for you were true."

"I thought you said this had nothing to do with us," Isabelle bit out disgustedly.

"Oh it's not." Murphy responded calmly, looking towards Bellamy. "Anything to get him to feel the pain that I felt, but ten times worse. I didn't have anyone down here to look after — let alone have someone look after me." He nodded his head towards the red fabric, "do it, now."

"Bellamy?" Octavia spoke through the walkie. "Bellamy, are you okay?"

Bellamy slowly crouched down to the floor, gathering the red fabric as he spoke out loud. "I'm fine. Get back to work, all of you. And tell raven I said to hurry her ass up."

Murphy placed the walkie down on the table and gestured towards Bellamy. "Tie those two ends together."

Isabelle's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, watching Bellamy do what Murphy told. Only just now putting the pieces together that Murphy was getting him to tie a noose just like the one they put around him. "Alright, now get up and toss it over." Murphy nodded towards one of the poles hanging from the ceiling. "I wanted Isabelle — you know that? I liked her. But of course the big brute has to get everything he wants. You tried to kill me and the look on her face hurt me the most instead of the box being kicked out from under my feet. Pretty twisted, right?"

"What do you want me to say?" Bellamy asked with furrowed eyebrows. "You want me to apologize?"

Murphy eagerly raised the gun higher, purposely aiming towards Bellamy's head which caused him to hold his hands up in defense. "I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

The younger boy narrowed his eyes. "You got it all wrong, Bellamy. I don't want you to say anything. I want you to feel what I felt, and then I want you to die. Now get that stool and bring it over."

Isabelle remained silent as she rapidly looked around her to find anything to save Bellamy. He appeared at her side, reaching for the metal stool and their gazes met for a solid heartbeat. "It'll be okay," he whispered to her before making his way over to where the noose hung then placed the stool down underneath it.