❝ 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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Harvest;
𝐀 type of coldness has overtaken every inch of her bare skin, traveling in only to meet the warmth of her blood. Her only defense against the crisp tunnel air.
She feels it wash over her, forming goosebumps again and again, then to be met by the beat of her galloping heart.
They've stripped her down to her underwear, and the blindfold is still depriving her of her visual senses.
A distressed frown creases and wrinkles her skin as she's forced down to her knees, the tiny rocks threatening to draw blood under the weight of her own body. She bites back the instinctive urge to free a whimper of pain, settling with grinding her teeth together.
The shouting around her is a sort of violence in the air, and they make her cram her eyes shut trying to block it out. Blood rushes to her ears, to her face, and her pulse thrashes under the skin of her throat.
Then, the blindfold is ripped off. She's left blinking like a madman, her brain instantly striving to form a sense of her new location. There are three men on her left, and two on her right, all in the same, aching position as herself. Hands tied behind their backs, relatively undressed, and very vulnerable.
Her alarmed stare settles on the familiar face furthest to her left.
His naked chest is heaving up and down in profound breaths, droplets of sweat interwinding with the dirt straining his tanned skin.
His dark brown eyes are open and welcoming to her, as though urging her to focus on him rather than the chaos around them. His unwavering stare flickers down, quickly scanning her body for any indicators of harm. The man finds himself pausing on the bandages around her thigh, and the speck of blood dried up into the loose fabric.
Then, their eyes lock again. He nods warily, leading her to believe he's somewhat confident in the turn of events. They'll use their position to their advantage.
Clove offers him a sharp nod of acknowledgment. And then, the heavy metal door leading into the mountain hisses open. Out comes a number of people dressed in hazmat suits, and the blonde struggles for a second to take in the newborn sight. Ironically enough, they remind her a lot of the spacesuits back on the Ark.
A woman suddenly stops directly in front of her, having already examined the two men on her right. Her cold eyes hold Clove's captive for a strangling moment, her pen hitting the metal board in her hands in a continuous, irritating rhythm.
And then, she disregards her, as though she'd nothing less than a valueless object.
"Harvest."
Lincoln's words echo through her ears, 'I was tagged Cerberus, turned into a Reaper'.
The sensation of a chokehold curls around her throat. Dread soaks her frantic eyes as she watches the woman move on, eventually coming to a halt in front of Bellamy. The subsequent pause appears twice as long as it had before, and without her even being aware of it, her breath hitches.
