/ haunted/
• showing signs of mental anguish or torment
"She was fierce. She was strong, she wasn't simple. She was crazy and sometimes she barely slept. She always had something to say. She had flaws and that was okay. And when she was down she g...
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[PREVIOUSLY: Lincoln rescues Octavia from her would-be executioners. Octavia discovers a relieving truth and Finn, Lincoln and her have a harrowing escape from Anya and her continent of blood-thirsty warriors].
The sharp sound of flint striking flint echoed eerily throughout the pitch-black tunnels.
A tiny spark erupted from the steel in Lincoln's hands, catching fire to a wad of wood shavings piled up on the ground.
Finn and I, crouched down near Lincoln's stooped figure, watched as he lighted the torch that he had packed in advance.
As Lincoln raised the stick and flashed its light around the tunnels, Finn got up and began fidgeting around impatiently. "So what is it about this place that kills people?" he demanded. "I think we should be prepped beforehand in case something happens, you know, seeing that it's our lives at stake here."
I cast Finn a knowing glance. "Calm down, Spacewalker. Lincoln knows what he's doing."
Finn furrowed his brow as he gazed suspiciously at Lincoln's bulky form. "What if he's leading us into a trap?"
"He saved our lives!" I shot back. "You can at least be grateful."
"C'mon, Octavia, do you really think we can trust a grounder? After everything they've done to us?"
I hesitated as I turned back to look at Lincoln. His features were strong and defined, his physic muscular and tall, his eyes kind and understanding. "Yes. I think we can trust him."
"Why?" Finn persisted, flailing his arms about in exaggeration.
"Because I trust Aidan," I murmured.
Lincoln's eyebrows raised in amusement. His composure is quickly changed, however, when he threw Finn a stern glare. "Do you want to know the answer to your question or not?" he snapped.
Finn rolled his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. "Fine. Bring it on, big boy."
Lincoln heaved a deep sigh as he looked around furtively. "Reapers use these tunnels."
"What the hell's a reaper?" Finn narrowed his eyes at Lincoln.
As Lincoln tightened his grip on his torch, he responded shortly, "Pray you never find out."
I stared at him in amazement. The rippling muscles in Lincoln's beefy arms were taunt and rigid ... with fear ... He was afraid! It took me a moment to process that our protector was scared. If he was scared, did that mean that we were supposed to be scared too? As much as I wanted to pummel Lincoln with an endless spray of questions, I knew better. We had to stay quiet if we were going to make it out of here alive.
