❝ Hell isn't where you go when you die.
It's what you become when everything you love has been taken away. ❞
[ sequel to 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 ]
[ the 100 / season two ]
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tw; panic attack.
Blood Must Have Blood;
𝐑egret washes over her like high waves on shallow ground.
Each wave grinding cold, sending shivers down her spine. How she longes to go back and take a different path.
But there is no way back.
What's done is unchangeable. His lifeless body will be just that; lifeless. Lifeless for the rest of her existence. Regardless of how long that will be.
Dark green eyes are cemented to his body. The corpse. Not his body- not anymore. The body in front of her has been robbed of what once made it a person. To think there had been a day when that body was born. A day it learned how to walk. A day it spoke its first words. It was a person.
He was a person. Now he's a part of history that might dissolve someplace between the lines of the great historians.
A few droplets are coating her skin, contrasting her weak exterior. They had splattered across her pale features without her consent. Claiming her face like red, stained freckles. Only they don't appear due to warm summer days, but rather the murky grimness of the dark.
It's dark. Lonesome. She's been left alone for hours. Isolated. Alone with nothing but her thoughts and the metallic smell of Cago's remains. It haunts her. She didn't know him for long- yet, his death haunts her. If they can kill one of their own with such ease, there's a significant chance she won't witness the rays of daylight ever again.
She won't get to pull Clarke into a tight embrace, reassuring her that she's alright. That she's alive. That she did make it out in time.
But then again, remaining in this underground cell for the rest of her life will save her from the crushing reality of their failure. The souls that were lost in the explosion. The ones lost along the way. Her family- the ones she ought to protect at all costs.
Thump, thump, thump.
Clove sits back in a panic, eyes widening at her own body's reaction.
There's a sudden passing of blood through her ears, creating a dullness in her hearing. The silence of the cell underlines the feeling of cotton surrounding her skull.
Thump, thump, thump.
Her heart beats loudly in her ears. In her throat. Chest is moving up and down under her layer of clothing. Up and down.
Hands are trembling. She heaves them in front of her face, blinking hard to maintain her focus. Terror blossoms at her lack of control. She can't keep her hands still.
