Pretty Lies (Bellamy Blake Fanfic)

Ye Who Enters Here

I used to wish for my entire body, my entire life to be numb, but now that I'm actually experiencing the terrible feeling, I urge myself to feel something. 

My mind is a black hall of nothingness, thoughts flitting in and out of my brain without me behind able to fully grasp them. The recesses of my mind are just as dark and empty as everything else. And the dull ache I once felt in my chest every time I came down this damned hall of memories is gone, replaced by a small tug, a reminder to myself that something isn't right. 

I should feel pain as I watch my mother be floated, or Tom be brutally killed on the battlefield I once called my home... But instead I feel... nothing. And I can't help but relish in it, relish in the pain free world I know find myself in, a world where I no longer have to be afraid of my own lethal actions.

I should have realized nothing lasts forever, especially my world free of pain. 

Everything seemed to come crashing down on top of me as my brain becomes more coherent, focusing on the bruises I can only assume are covering my body. I can feel the harsh earth underneath me, it being nothing like the soft, grainy shit back home in Arkadia, telling me I'm somewhere way beyond the city walls.  

I try to move my arms underneath me, only to hiss in pain as I feel the stiff rope over my hands. I pry open my eyes, only to see the vague outlines of a sack covering my face,

"Asshole," I mutter to myself, but the man himself must have heard me because I'm ripped off the ground, my arms being hoisted up until my feet are touching the solid earth,

"You'll be quiet, or my knife might find it's way into your stomach. I didn't plan to take two with me to see the Commander, but I suppose plans can be adjusted," he hisses into my ear. I growl as I try to remove myself from his grasp, but his hold is strong,

"Stop struggling or I'll end your friends life right now and damn the consequences," he pushes me forward, my legs stumbling over the unknown terrain in front of me. Both of us know his idle threat carried no real danger, considering Clarke is the one thing he seems to need right now.

I try to slow my furiously beating heart, trying to get a bearing of the situation I now find myself in. I let my body go slack at his words, even though I know they carry no truth. His rough hands leave my arm, and for a second I think he simply let me go, until I feel a tug on my hands, coming from the rough rope around him. 

I curse him again as I stumble, my steps awkward as I try to stay upright. At least he didn't gag me, I can still use my annoying mouth to piss him off enough to let him go. 

I hear echoing stumbles next to my own, and I know Clarke is suffering right next to me, our hands bound in front of us and neither of us knowing where we're going, or what's going to happen to us once we get there. 

My mind shoots towards the last image I have of Bellamy, his eyes wide as he watches me fall to the floor, and a small pool of blood spilling over his hands from the wound in his leg. 

If Bellamy dies, I will rip apart the entire world.  I vow, my thoughts hard as I say the words to any god or being out there, allowing them to become true as we trek through the woods leading god knows where,

"You know, I'm useless to you," I quip, my voice light as I try not to trip, "I'm not the famous Wanheda, I'm just a girl who tried to help her friend. Letting me go would have been the smarter choice," I drawl, and I feel the rope in front of me go lax as we pause,

"You're wrong. You are just a big a prize as Wanheda. You are the Bringer of death...You don't simply cause the death and fall of others, you thrive in it," he says simply, and before I can reply, we are being dragged back into the woods, my mind a mess.