𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 II Bellamy Blake

𝟐.𝟏. 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓/𝟐.𝟏
☆ STRANGE ENCOUNTERS ☆
"𝓦𝓮'𝓻𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝔀. 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓸𝓴𝓪𝔂."

☆꧁*꧂☆

   RAISED VOICES, SPEAKING in a foreign language from afar, awoke Allaia from her deep dream. Rays of sunshine blinded her within their intensity, so she blinked a few times rapidly, trying to adapt herself to the dazzling brightness. As Alle's blurry vision heightened, an acute pain in her abdomen subdued her senses, causing her to let out a loud groan. Cautiously, Allaia lifted her shirt upwards, noticing that her stab wound had been cauterized and swathed in a fabric imitating a professional dressing. She breathed in relief, beyond grateful that the strangers tended her injury and saved her life.

    Feeling an undiluted panic arising inside her veins, with the fear of the unknown almost sending her over the edge, Allaia abruptly scanned her surroundings, recognizing that she was in some sort of wooden cottage. But it wasn't like a fairy tale one. It seemed old and dusty, with clutter thrown all over the place. 

    Her first impression of the room was slightly misguided, probably due to the quantity of fright reigning her entire body. When Allaia looked around intently, she realized that the bedroom radiated with pleasant warmth. In its own strange way, it was cozy with the timbered furnishing, the carpet made of animal leather, and a tiny fireplace flickering with livid flames, casting shadows over the rug. Allaia glanced at the window above the furnace in reverie, and suddenly all memories from the night of the battle swirled themselves into her mind. 

   Allaia gasped shakily as vivid images from the war flashed across her eyes. The last thing she remembered was hopelessly watching Bellamy almost being killed by a Grounder, and then, ironically, getting stabbed by one herself. Everything afterwards was tenebrious, like a cavernous dust veiling mysteries in a mist. 

   Her attention vaguely fell upon the fireplace, incandescent blazes, hungrily devouring the wood to fuel their irascible wrath. And then it occurred to her. The explosion. Bellamy. Allaia started to breathe unevenly, heavier and heavier by every second, as if drowning in the depths of the icy water paralleling her worst nightmares and fears. Like trapped in the carousel of darkness, spinning her sanity out of control, Allaia began to hyperventilate when she realized that everyone she loved could be dead. 

Bellamy could be dead.

   In a whirlwind of sheer horror, Allaia felt herself falling over the edge of the strongest panic attack she has ever experienced. The unknown fate of her friends was progressively conquering her in a sense of madness beyond reckoning. The spheres of her amber eyes began to break like glass. A rapid storm of sobbing, threatening to blast and split her soul apart, was approaching Alle unrelentingly, but she knew she had to contain the thunders of her despair. After all, judging by the distant voices speaking in a foreign language, she was surrounded by strangers. Allaia had to make a good first impression. She couldn't look weak or frightened. 

   To be fair, there was a slight chance they survived. It was low, extremely low, but in theory, it was possible. Or that's what Allaia tried to coerce herself to believe in to remain sane, clinging to the pathetic alternative until she would discover the truth. It was purely naive to hope and Alle was very aware of that. But she needed to hold on to something or else would go insane. 

Hearing the door handle crack, Allaia abruptly wiped her tears and shot up straight.

"Finally, you're awake." A feminine voice sighed impatiently. "Took you long enough."