The 100's Bellarke with gender swaps, a shared meal, three traps, and an almost kiss that ends with a surprise told in two very biased POVs. Inspired by Richard Connell's short story, The Most Dangerous Game. Written for the Final Round of the Chopped: The 100 Fanfic Challenge.

Killing Me Softly

Prologue

The sky was still as black as velvet when Detective Nathan Miller pulled into the parking lot of the Arkadia Police Station. He picked up the two coffee cups resting in his center console and slid out of the police cruiser, shutting the car door with his hip.

It was another Monday morning, but way too early. Though the station had been buzzing for hours when he arrived inside, he found it still in almost complete chaos. There was a flurry of activity going on, the phones ringing off the hook at the secretaries' desks, a group of rookies gossiping at the water cooler, and a pack of search dogs restlessly whining and wagging their tails on the floor. Detective Miller bypassed all of it and headed straight to the Chief's office.

"Morning, sir," he said and sat a cup down on the large wooden desk. His father looked up wearily. The circles under his eyes were dark and the stress that was set into his features made him look older.

"You're going to want to sit down for this, son," Chief Miller said. The detective obeyed and sat down noisily in the seat across from the Chief. The scraping of his chair startled the older man causing him to jump.

"What's got you so spooked, old man?" he teased, but with worry lacing the edge of his voice. His father, a hardened veteran cop, didn't scare easily, but he didn't answer him, just flipped his computer screen around so he could see.

Detective Miller leaned forward at the sight of a woman sitting in the Station's interrogation room. She was covered in dirt and soaked to the bone. Her blue dress was ripped in different places and she was barefoot. There was a nasty cut running up one leg that needed medical attention. She had a lion's mane worth of dark curls that fell to her shoulders, bits of debris and wet moss clung to the ringlets. And her dark brown eyes were wide and bloodshot, full of some kind of cold fear she couldn't seem to shake in the warmth of the room.

In any other circumstance, Miller would have found her features striking and beautiful. He couldn't tell if it was mud or freckles that were scattered across the bridge of her nose and high cheekbones. The dots went down her face, over to her exposed collarbones, and ran down her arms. One of the woman's arms were gripping around the smaller frame of a second woman, Miller now noticed. Much younger and thinner. Her straight black hair was dripping wet and the girl was shaking uncontrollably.

The time stamp at the bottom of the screen read 1:05 am. This morning.

"What is this?"

"We received a phone call late last night at a truck stop from a payphone at the base of Mount Weather. And then we picked up these two women," Chief Miller explained and hit play on the recording.

"Start from the beginning. State your name and hers. And why you're here," he could hear his father's voice saying off camera, coming in like it was going through a vacuum, followed by static.

The curly-haired woman took in a shuttering breath and tightened her hold around the other girl.

"My name is Bellamy Blake. This is my sister, Octavia. And I know what happened to all of the missing hikers and campers in the region," her voice was low and hoarse when she answered him.

"Are you here to give us a confession, Miss Blake?"

"No, sir," she whispered as tears formed in the corner of her eyes. "I'm here to tell you who did it."

"Who? Not what?"

"Who." The tape cut off leaving Bellamy's face at the center of the screen with brown eyes now blazing.

"What did she say?" Nathan asked on the edge of his seat, perplexed by the whole ordeal. For years, the mountains around Arkadia had been known to have many mysterious disappearances. Hikers falling to their deaths from the steep cliffs at the top of the mountain range. Campers simply disappearing in the middle of the night. Wild animals leaving their victims in shreds. Entire camping parties leaving behind all their belongings and recently lit campfires without a trace to be found. Almost always out-of-towners. Never a clear explanation.

Until now.

The Chief clicked on another video from their second interrogation room. A blond man was pacing back and forth across the camera like a caged animal. He wore a light suit that looked like it was once finely made before it became soiled with dirt and torn to pieces. Miller could see blood soaking his left shoulder. The man ran a hand through his wavy hair and winced in pain.

"I'll take your statement now if you would have a seat, Mr…?" Chief Miller's voice boomed out on the computer screen.

The man sat down and crossed his arms as best he could before resting them on the table. "My name is Dr. Clarke Griffin and I was attacked."

Nathan slowly lifted his gaze from the man's dirty fingernails that were tapping on the table to his busted lip and up to his ice blue eyes.

"He came in a couple of hours after they did," Chief Miller told his son. "His family owns the whole damn mountain. The Griffins. He claims there were trespassers on his property this weekend. I thought it was just a lover's quarrel at first, but I'm hoping you can help me figure this case out, Detective."

The screen had changed to a live feed of the two rooms. Detective Miller looked between the two frightened women and the man, studying them, before looking up at his father's tired eyes.

"Roll the tapes."