Well here we are. I'm back from an extended hiatus with my latest idea on how I can butcher the universe of The 100.
When I came back to writing, I had fully intended on finishing my OC based 'Closer to the Edge' stories, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone, and I simply had to start it. The idea for this story was seeded after watching the conclave episode in season 4, Die All Die Merrily. Without a doubt the best episode of the show so far but I couldn't help but wonder: 'What if the stakes were raised? In every single way.' And thus this story was born. I won't say anything more (that would just ruin the story), apart from that this is a season 4 AU, and that it will be dark. Very dark. Violence, blood, gore, and possibly a bit of romance. Believe me, the rating is not to be taken lightly. Other that all I can say is that I hope you enjoy the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or any of its characters, themes or plot points. The only things I own are the Original Characters in this story (of which there will be many) and the plot lines of this story and this story alone.
Enjoy.
"Turning and turning in the widening gyre, The Falcon cannot hear the falconer, Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold, Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world"
- The Second Coming, W.B Yeats
"Man is the only animal the deals in war. He is the only one that gathers his brethren and goes forth in cold blood and calm pulse to exterminate his own kind, he is the only one that, for the promise of glory will march out… and slaughter those with whom he has no quarrel."
- Mark Twain
"Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it."
- George Santayana
THE GAME
Prologue
The animals ran from them.
Sunlight dappled and flittered as thin stems of branches were pushed aside, yet they made not a sound as the pushed their way through their environment, leaving but the barest traces of bootprints in the soft soil behind them.
Guided by the ghostly blue laser sights mounted upon their weapons, the squad of five pushed deeper into the forest. They moved in tandem, a perfect, surgical formation, covering their vulnerabilities while scouring ahead for any sign of it. Not a single one made a mistake. This mission was far too important for there to be any alternative to perfection.
The island they were on was not large, but they knew from experience that appearances were deceiving, and given the nature of what they were searching for, they were prepared for every possibility.
Their progress was halted as their leader abruptly raised his fist in the air, and they paused as they observed him shoulder his P90 Assault Rifle to grab a small, yet chunky device from his pocket. Holding it in front of him, they heard a series of staccato clicks, much more rapid than it had been earlier.
The clicks were suddenly drowned out by a mechanical buzzing, and each of them had their identical weapons raised in an instant, all trained on the small drone hovering over them.
Their fingers tensed on the triggers when they saw it swivel the compact minigun attached to its underside towards them, only for their leader to calmly tap a series of buttons on his high-tech wrist mounted command pad, and a moment later the drone visibly stood down, and calmly buzzed away.
Unseen by the others, the leader smiled. The rapid clicks from his device and the presence of the drone meant only one thing: They were getting close.
Back in formation, they pushed onwards, remembering to scout the area around them, for their mission had two goals: confirm the location for their target, and map the island around it. Their rivals may have seen this as an unfair advantage, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.
They largely ignored the lighthouse, for there was nothing in there but perished rations, and even more so the large mansion further inland. They knew exactly who – and what - had been on this island, and that they were no longer a threat to the mission.
Eventually, guided by the clicks of the device, they found their way to the centre of the island.
One almost wouldn't have seen it through the tangle of trees, moss and vines that covered it, but they knew what they were looking for. The faint silver of decades old stainless steel peeked out through the foliage. Impervious to rust and decay, it glinted at them in the sunlight, as if inviting them towards it.
Calling his comrades to take up covering positions, the leader moved cautiously towards the squat, heavily set building. It looked so innocuous. Incredible to think then, that this building had been the cause of the destruction of the world nearly a century ago.
Scouring the outside of the building, the leader quickly picked up on something different. Brushing away the moss covering it, his eyes lit up when he saw it:
The unmistakeable yellow and black warning of nuclear radiation.
Grinning to himself in satisfaction that a decade long search had finally come to an end, he brought his hands to his helmet and removed it, revealing short cropped black hair, its form interrupted only by a small braided section coming down in front of his left ear, just reaching his shoulder. His eyes were a rare and incredibly unnerving shade of deep, emotionless purple. They matched the look on his sharp, angular face as he raised a radio to his mouth and spoke.
"Ground Team to Genesis, this is Switchblade. We found it."
He never heard the response however, for it was at that moment that a bone-chilling growl echoed through the trees.
Every member of the unit turned as one at the sound, which was enough to send shivers up even their seasoned arms. They had been to many places and come across many more dangerous things, but they'd never heard anything like this.
It sounded large, feral, and worst of all: close.
They all stood back to back when they heard accompanying crunching sounds of branches being crushed underfoot. Their fingers itched on the triggers as the sounds grew louder, coming closer… closer… closer.
And then, suddenly, silence.
Not the faintest octave whispered through the trees, yet they did not move. For an extended period of time they kept their rifles trained on the section of forest the sounds had been coming from, daring whatever it was to show itself.
Eventually, one of the men spoke. "Uh… sir, I think we should be getting back to the-"
"Quiet!" the leader whispered back harshly, not breaking his line of sight down the barrel of his rifle. "Whatever it is… it's stalking us."
Suddenly, an inhuman shriek sounded behind them. They all spun around, only to see the man who had been covering their six disappear, yanked backwards into undergrowth too dense to see through. It happened so fast that they never even saw their attacker.
They instantly leapt into action, unloading rounds into the forest, but no avail it seemed, for they then heard their squad member scream in agony, followed by a horrible crunching sound that definitely wasn't a tree branch.
The remaining unit members glanced at each other in shock and horror, silently conveying the same message:
Run.
They took off, as fast as their legs could carry them, sprinting back through the trees to the safety of the craft which had brought them here.
Every now and then, one would turn and blindly fire several rounds behind them, hoping beyond hope to hit whatever it was that had killed their teammate.
Out of the corner of his eye, the leader saw a huge black shadow burst from the trees and take down the rear-most man, and then a minute later, it took down the next. Hideous screams exploded through his ear piece both times.
There were now just two of them left.
The other man was running for all he was worth.
He was the newest member of the elite squad and, though he thought he had seen everything, nothing could have prepared him for the one time he dared look behind him and saw one of his teammates taken down in an explosion of blood and organs by some… creature?
He had no idea how to describe it. It moved so fast that he barely got a look at it. It was humanoid, moving on two legs, but it was covered in hair. And its head… there was something about its head that was just… unnatural…
Whatever it was, it had taken down all but himself and his leader, who sprinted ahead of him. Try as he might, he simply could not keep pace with the other man. He had heard many whispers about him in the corridors of the organisation he served, so outlandish yet so convicted that it was hard to separate fact from fiction. They said he had killed his first man as a child, and ever since had never lost a battle, nor even blinked when taking a life. Some even went as far to say he had been enhanced somehow. One thing was for certain: when on missions he was laser focussed and deadly serious, and when not, he never left his quarters. He was training, they said, training for something big…
That did nothing to suppress the growing dread in his chest.
Each time their attacker had taken one of them, it had been the one at the back.
And he was next.
He had barely finished the thought when he caught the flash of a black shadow to his side. Reacting on adrenaline charged instinct, he attempted to launch himself out of the way, but he was too late and the next instant, all he knew was savage, blinding pain exploding from his lower half.
Upon landing on the ground, he looked back to assess his injuries, and them immediately, violently vomited.
From the waist down, his entire lower half was missing.
He gaped openly at the jagged white bones that suck out where his legs used to be. Around them, strips of flesh hung gruesomely, while blood poured from the eviscerated arteries.
His eyes bulged. It had taken his fucking legs off with one swipe.
He let out a scream of the most agonised horror, the scream of a man that had just realised he was going to die.
The sound made his leader finally stop and look back. He saw the look of abstract disgust cross the normally stoic man's face, as he evidently tried to hold back his own vomit.
Already feeling his life fading quickly, he reached a desperate hand out. "Please…" he whimpered, "Please…"
He saw the leader hesitate for a moment. The forest had again gone silent. He prayed that whatever it was had begun feasting on its prior victims, and that he could at least be saved from that fate and die among the organisation he served, rather than in the jaws of what had removed his legs.
His hoped were dashed when he saw the leader – Switchblade's eyes darken. "Sorry brother, but The Game must go on." He said harshly, before turning and sprinting away, leaving him alone, dying, and with the beast from a thousand nightmares hunting him.
Tears leaked openly from his eyes when he heard the ragged breathing approaching him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, resolved to granting himself the only possible comfort in not seeing his death face to face before it came.
His wish was not to be granted, for the breathing suddenly ceased, and in his dying moments the lone soldier was unable to keep his eyes closed any longer.
The eyelids cracked open, giving him just enough time to see a wicked set of sabre teeth rushing at him.
His world briefly exploded in pain and then he knew no more.
CONTESTANT PROFILE
Name: Luna
Age: Unknown
Affiliation: Floukru (translation: 'Boat People')
Representing: America (N)
Description:
Captive participant
Born with the gift of the blood of night, Luna, along with her brother, trained in the art of battle and command under previous American Commander, Ryon. Though the degeneration of the nation into savages is deplorable, they do at least show a high proficiently in both hand to hand and bladed combat.
Despite clearly outclassing the rest of her nightblood novitiates, Luna chose to flee her conclave and seek a life of peace – though it is rumoured she created the fabled 'Qinta' warriors.
She now lives as the clan leader of 'Floukru', and regardless of their proclivity for pacifism (as evidenced by her refusal to assist in vanquishing the remnant of the last Game), it would be foolish to assume she has allowed her combat skills to diminish over the years. After all, a warrior is easier to forge than to smelt.
As her sponsor says: "The first representative should not be underestimated."
Ranked to win: 10th out of 16
The oil rig was peaceful, Adria thought as she stepped out into the morning sunlight. There were no guns here, no swords. No war.
It was a welcome escape from the world she had been born into, though it did nothing to vanish the nightmares that still haunted her at night. The fear… the screams… the gunfire as the mountain men slaughtered her village.
She visibly shuddered as she forced the memories away. It had been four years ago, she had barely been through her sixth winter when they came, awful guns blazing, dropping each of her clan members one after the other in ruthless efficiency. Her own parents stood no chance in the face of the onslaught, cut down in front of her by a hailstorm of bullets. It had only been their quick thinking of hiding her in the food store that had saved her life.
She had sat there for days, covered in stinking, rotting meat, shivering in terror and just waiting for the monsters to come back and finish the job. The footsteps she had heard approaching, she had been so sure would bring about her end, when instead they had changed her life forever.
Opening her eyes again, she took in the rippling blue ocean as a wave of calm settled over her. Her mentor would not have wanted her to dwell on the past, not even on the horrors that those sky people had brought to their rig only a month previously. Today was a new day, and she was going to make the most of it.
Her job this morning was untangling the fishing nets used in the previous days hunt. It was a little tedious, but she enjoyed it well enough, her small, nimble hands making light work of the tangled mess of rope. She hummed a jovial tune to herself as she worked. She had noticed ever since the sky people had come, she had been given more and more duties, even going so far as to assign the other children certain tasks for the day. Her mentor had never admitted it outright, but she knew she was being groomed to one day take leadership of her people. She didn't feel anywhere close to ready yet, and she knew she could never hope to be as good as her current leader, but she supposed she was a big girl now, and was ready to start taking on more responsibility.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something breaking the surface of the sea in the distance. At first she thought it was a fin of another of the enormous swimming animals that sometimes passed by this way, but on closer inspection it was much too thin to be one of those. It rose in a perfect line, perpendicular to the sea. She narrowed her eyes in curiosity, wondering what on earth it could be. The way the sunlight glinted off of it indicated it was metallic, but it was far too large for it to be a part of the diving gear the hunters sometimes utilised. Only when its form shifted, revealing a ninety degree angle joining a short, horizontal section to the vertical one did she realise it was moving. Towards them.
Her curiosity tempered by more than a little concern – one couldn't be too careful after what the sky people had brought with them – she immediately called for her leader. After multiple attempts and receiving no response, she huffed in frustration. Her leader was probably telling those annoying boys off for leaving fish guts lying around again. They were so useless!
Resigned, she dropped the netting at her feet and turned her back on the strange floating object, and went off to find her leader herself.
Luna stared blankly out of her window, watching the sun rise with muted trepidation. Her long, flowing hair did little to hide the tension in her shoulders.
Life had been hard for the Boat People recently, fish stocks seemed to be diminishing by the day, and some of the younger children had broken out in a strange red rash that no one had ever seen before.
These hardships were just what she needed after what had happened with the Sky People. The loss of Derek had left a sizeable hole in her heart, one only made wider by the loss of the others. The oil rig had always seemed so impenetrable, so stable and peaceful. Safe. But if the recent events had taught her anything it was that nothing is truly safe.
She sighed
She hoped the sky people had prevailed over whatever adversity the blonde one had seemed so determined to defeat, she really did. But at what cost?
She had asked this when they had stayed at the rig, and she had continued to do so long after they had left. The reality they brought burned into her. They had brought their war here once. How much longer until someone else did the same? Someone who couldn't be turned away.
Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her hands over themselves, glaring at them, hating what she had done with them. At one stage the sword, the battle, the bloodlust had been everything she knew, and it was a part of her history that she would have loved nothing more than to forget, but instead she was going to be forever cursed with the image of her brother's eyes staring blankly up at her.
She was drawn from her thoughts by an urgent-sounding rapping at her door. By the frantic speed, yet timidity of the sound, she had only one guess as to who it could be.
Smiling to herself, she withdrew from her vigil by the window, silently got to her feet and opened the door, revealing Adria's cheerful, yet concerned face staring up at her.
She did not even try to quell the warmth that blossomed in her chest at the sight of her adopted daughter. Since establishing her clan and her home on the rig, many children had come to her seeking refuge from war, but Adria was different.
She had found the girl long before she had found the rig. Wandering aimlessly through the forest, all desire to live in such a violent world had long since abandoned her after the horrors of the conclave and then the catastrophic failure of her attempt to create her own peacekeeping force, she had seen smoke billowing on the horizon, and instinctively went to investigate.
The sight that greeted her brought bile to her mouth. The entire village had been destroyed. Huts still smouldered, and bodies lay strewn haphazardly in blood stained mud. The ones that were riddled with bullets had been the lucky ones. Others had obviously been burnt alive.
Unable to stand the abomination of a world she was forced to live in, she had taken her dagger – a final reminder of the life she had left behind – and was moments away from plunging it into her own chest when she heard a frightened squeak to her left.
Controlling herself after the initial shock, she instantly dropped the dagger and investigated the only building left standing amid the desolation around her. She shifted a basket of stale bread aside and then, shocked, she found herself staring at a tiny girl, no older than five or six winters. She was covered in blood and looked absolutely terrified.
Unable to form words, she stared in amazement at the child in front of her for what felt like forever, until the young girl hesitantly grasped for her hair, giggling as her fingers entwined with the wild curls as her fear visibly faded.
It was like the spell had been broken, and Luna found all her hatred and disgust simply draining away at the sight. Here in front of her was proof that there was still inherent good in the world, and she made a vow then and there to never let anything bad ever happen to the child again.
Doing her best to appear friendly, she lowered herself to the child's eye level. "Hello there little flower," she spoke softly, "What's your name?"
"Luna, there's something in the water!" Adria spoke hurriedly in trigedasleng, not even giving Luna a chance to get a word in.
"What do you mean?" Luna questioned, used to the girl's boisterous nature, "See another Whale did you?'
"I'm being serious!" Adria replied, her voice raising a tone as she reverted back to english, "It was floating in the water, something long and tall. It reflected the sunlight!"
At Adria's description, Luna's smile vanished, her earlier worries immediately back to the front of her thoughts.
She allowed the girl to take her wrist and drag her quickly through the corridors to the other side of the rig, the entire time replaying one question over and over again in her head: Could they have found her again? She really hoped that wasn't the case. She would die very happy indeed if she never set eyes on another sky person for the rest of her life. She knew rationally that next to no one knew their location, much less how to signal the ground team, but after recent events she could be forgiven for being a little paranoid.
She came to a halt when Adria dragged her to the edge of the railing, where she had evidently been working on the nets, and she immediately cast her eye towards the ocean. The sea breeze she savoured so much was ignored as she scoured the waves for the slightest disturbance, only to find…
Nothing.
She couldn't see anything breaking the surface, much less what Adria had described.
"I don't understand… It was here just before, right there." Adria pointed to a section of water. Luna narrowed her eyes. As much as she wanted to believe her young charge, the girl had been known to have an overactive imagination, and there was nothing she could think of that matched what Adria had described.
"Adria… There's nothing there…" she sighed gently, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder in comfort. Her heart sank at the girl's downtrodden expression, and she turned to get back to her duties when suddenly there was a dull clunk and then, moments later, the entire rig shuddered.
Luna froze.
"What was that?" Adria asked hesitantly beside her, but Luna gave no reply. Her skin prickled, hairs standing on end as every sense shifted to high alert, the result of years of training in deadly combat. The shudder stopped as quickly as it came, but that did nothing to quell her apprehension. Whatever it was that had made the rig shake like that, it had to have been big.
It was then that she heard another clunking sound, this one far shriller: the shriek of metal on metal, and out of the corner of her eye she spotted something on the edge of the rig that wasn't there before. It looked like an oversized arrowhead.
Whatever thoughts she had as to its origins quickly died when another was launched over the edge, sliding back briefly before catching on the railing. Then another. Then another.
Realization dawned.
"Adria, get the children and get to the boat!" she said quickly, her eyes wide in dread.
"But-"
"NOW!" Luna shouted, causing the young girl to jump, before quickly running off to do as she was told.
Luna leapt into action. She sprinted across the deck towards the central tower, slamming her hand down on a large red button beside its entrance. A loud siren blared, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and look to her, their faces a mix of surprise, confusion and fear. "You know what to do! Get to the boat! We're evacuating!" She addressed them loudly. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in, before suddenly everyone began moving hurriedly to the lower deck on the far side of the rig. People shouted as panic set in, pushing and shoving in a mad rush to escape
It was chaos.
In the middle of it all, Luna ran back over to the edge, where the arrowheads were. Peering over, what she saw was enough to terrify even her.
There, floating in the water at the base of the rig was an enormous, metallic object in the shape of an elongated cylinder. It was easily double the length of her rig, its sleek shape interrupted only by the conical spire rising out of its centre.
That wasn't what froze her in her place though.
It was the people ascending the ropes attached to the arrowheads.
For a moment Luna could do nothing but stare in shock at what she was seeing, but then instinct took over. Grabbing her dagger, she raced along the edge, slashing as many of the ropes as possible, doing her best to block out the screams of the people who suddenly found themselves falling back towards the water. Serves them right. No one attacked her people and got away with it. No one.
Frustratingly, the ropes were much tougher than she had anticipated. They appeared to be made of wire rather than rope, and as such she was only able to slice through a few of them before the people climbing them reached the railing. As the first ones hauled themselves over the edge, she got her first good look at them.
She had never seen the mountain men, but from what she had heard from the stories, these guys certainly came close. They were dressed completely in black, not an inch of skin showing, and they appeared to be wearing some sort of body armour across their chests. Their eerie, faceless masks were like something out of a nightmare, the way they gave away nothing yet just seemed to invoke fear. Contouring to their faces, the masks left only small holes for breathing, and black sheened goggles covered their eyes. In their hands they held rifles that were twice as deadly looking as anything the sky people had brought.
Seeing her, one of them instantly trained his rifle on her, and she automatically flinched, only for the man nest to him to forcefully push the barrel down. "Not her!" he hissed sharply, "We need that one alive!"
Unfortunately, he hadn't said it quietly enough to escape her razor sharp hearing.
Taking advantage of their weakness, exactly as she had been taught, she launched herself at the first man, kicking him back over the edge, before spinning and slashing her dagger across the un-armoured neck of the second, ignoring the spray of blood that exploded across her back as she ran towards the next.
In a lethal attack she had taught herself in her time with the nightbloods, she leapt in the air, wrapping her legs around his masked head, before jack-knifing her body sideways, hearing a loud CRACK! as his neck was snapped.
All thoughts of peace had long since left her mind as a decade of training came roaring back to life inside her. Her only goal was stalling whoever these attackers were long enough for her people to get to the safety of the boat they kept for emergencies, and flee to land. By the sounds of the bullets being fired around her, and the terrified screams accompanying them, she was failing.
Further incensed, she grabbed a nearby fishing spear, and went to work.
She killed like a force of nature.
The fact that her enemies had guns meant little seeing as they couldn't use them on her, a fact that she punished them for dearly as she finally unleashed all her skills in the most brutal of fashions. Some were skewered through their masks, others had entire limbs amputated. Their high tech armour meant very little when it didn't cover the entire body. Not when she had been taught from birth that every part of the body can be a target.
She practically felt every scream of her own people as they went down, using that pain to fuel the fiery anger raging within her. This was all humanity could seek out: War. It disgusted her, and all she wanted was to turn the tables on these tyrants.
Finally, she cut what seemed to be the last of the dozen or so soldiers down with a vicious horizontal swing of her spear, completely decapitating the unfortunate man. She watched his body drop numbly, feeling blood dripping from her hair as the disgust of what she had done started rising up. She felt sick. She had once promised to herself to never take up arms again, and yet in the space of a month she had been forced to kill the man she loved and now she had slaughtered an entire squadron in a way fit only for the worst of nightmares. At the very least her people were safe. They could never come back to this place again, but at least they were alive. She would celebrate that fact today and deal with the guilt another.
She turned to join her people on the boat, only to realise that her task wasn't over.
Standing in front of her was one, final soldier.
He held no rifle in his hands, yet he seemed more intimidating than the others put together. He just exuded an aura of danger. He was distinguished from the others by the fact that he wore no single mask, instead opting for a grey breathing mask covering his lower face from the nose down, and a compact helmet with a wraparound visor covering the top half.
She glared at him, then twirled her spear in her hands, advancing towards him.
He just stood there as she approached, waiting for her to make the first move. She smirked, knowing exactly what she was going to do.
She twirled the spear behind her back, in a way that made like she was going to swing from the left, before suddenly and viscously thrusting the spear from the right.
It was a move that had won her many battles in the nightbloods, and this time was no different. The deadly tip arrowed in on its target and a moment later it struck-
Nothing.
Luna blanched.
That attack had never missed before. How had it failed?
Sensing a presence behind her, she spun around to see the same man, and her surprise doubled. Somehow he had dodged her spear, and blindsided her in the barest of moments.
Not letting her surprise linger as her warriors instincts clamped down on her emotions, she launched another attack, this time with more conventions jabs, but it quickly became clear that her opponent was on a whole other level. He seemed to be able to predict her attacks before she even knew what they were going to be, and danced effortlessly away from her blade in a way no one had ever managed before. It was as if he was toying with her.
Still, she kept fighting, desperately continuing in the hope that if she could just keep him occupied long enough… her people could get away. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make. Adria's innocent face leapt to the forefront of her mind. For the young girl, and indeed all of her people, she would gladly die and take her guilt to the grave with her.
It was a fate that seemed to be rapidly approaching as her attacker seemed to have finally had enough of the game he was playing. In a flash, he struck out with his left hand, striking a vicious blow to her right wrist – the one in which she held her spear. Her fingers reflexively sprang open in pain, and before she could react he had plucked the weapon out of mid air, jammed it across her throat and forcefully pulled her back towards him, all but choking her.
She struggled against him, but he had to be at least thirty kilograms heavier than her, and nothing she tried could budge his superior strength. In fact, it seemed to her as if he was even holding back!?
Resignation filled her. She stopped struggling and let her arms drop to her sides. Try as she might, she simply could not think of a way out of her position. He was too strong, too fast. Too good.
The revving engine of the boat was like music to her ears.
Her eyes lit up as she saw the boat, her people crowding the deck draw into view, and began powering away from the rig, towards the sanctuary of land.
She laughed grimly. "You failed" she goaded her captor. "My people are safe."
The fact that the man didn't even react worried her.
He chuckled in her ear. "Are they?" he replied in a flat, rough monotone. On hearing his words, Luna felt every bone in her body turn to ice.
She watched, powerless to do anything, as a thin, white tube laced through the water. Obviously fired by the vessel the soldiers had come from, it sizzled through the water, trailing a stream of bubbles behind it as it zeroed in on its target.
Moments later, Luna's scream was drowned out by the devastating explosion that erupted the moment the white tube made contact. The boat was torn apart by the ferocity, and it, along with the people on it, every last member of Luna's beloved clan, was vaporized in the blink of an eye.
Luna could only stare at the flaming remnants of her people. She couldn't even feel anything. She had just witnessed her entire life go up in flames. There was no pain she had endured that even compared. Agony, pure agony ripped through her mind as a tortured wail was ripped from her throat as she was released, dropping to her knees.
Blinded by tears, she managed to draw herself to her feet and aimlessly threw her fist around, pouring all of her hatred into a single punch which somehow connected, knocking the helmet from the man's face.
She had no follow up. She was completely spent, both physically and emotionally. She simply collapsed to the ground, laying uncaringly on her stomach and sobbing.
She barely registered the needle going into the back of her neck.
At the prick of her skin, she rolled over and stared up at the man who had annihilated her people through her tears, catching the briefest glimpse of dark purple eyes, before carrying his last words with her into unconsciousness.
"One down, three to go."
See what I meant about the violence…
And that was just the start, loads more where that came from.
I can't say on how often I'll be able to update this story, my schedule is pretty hectic and my motivation for writing is a bit up and down right now, but I have every intention on seeing this one through. In the meantime, please leave a review and let me know what you think, good, bad, I don't mind. Any feedback is appreciated!
By the way, those of you who are familiar with my other stories may have spotted a couple of Easter Eggs throughout the chapter. They have no bearing on the story itself, just thought it'd be fun to throw them in.
Until next time, hope you enjoyed the first chapter. As for how Lexa is alive in this story. Stay tuned…