"Miller, have you seen Lyfe walk in? I have not seen her," Monroe asked, anxiety threatened to consume her as she scanned the area both inside and outside the camp. Lyfe was nowhere to be seen, and she seem like she evaporated into thin air. Miller quickly ran from his post, a look of pure panic washed across his face. He searched everywhere, including the pond where he knew that Bellamy and Lyfe often spent their time. On most nights, it was a beautiful scene, but now it just looked creepy and ominous. He turned up empty when he reentered the camp's gate. He shook his head at Monroe, and said "Nothing."
"What are we going to do Miller?" whispered Monroe. Without Lyfe, Bellamy would go crazy, and will probably drag the whole camp down with his seclusion. Bellamy was the one who held the camp together, who kept the majority of the 100 alive. He was their guide, their hope, and was greatly needed. Monroe hoped that Miller had a better plan, rather than telling Bellamy first. After all, Lyfe might be coming back now, but deep down she doubted it. "I hope this isn't serious." Monroe was shaking, and it wasn't from the cold. How could one girl cause such havoc? Because you idiot, she is with Bellamy Blake.
"Let's double check the camp's perimeters, and if we still come up empty, then we need to tell Bellamy," Miller responded in calmness, but he was actually scared shit. Bellamy would fire him (and probably kill him) and Monroe for not doing their jobs right, not that they were getting paid, but lots of peoples' respect, dependence, and their own dignity came with it. Plus, they wouldn't hear the end of it. Not only that, if someone went missing, then the entire group would embark on a dangerous search party. The forest was so huge and thick, and dense, that it would take everyone's eyes and ears to scope it out. It was a guarantee that there would be a few losses. That is how Diggs and Roma died when Octavia got lost while chasing a radioactive butterfly. Yet, Octavia felt extremely guilty about her mistake, and the deaths of her fellow camp mates, so nobody brought it up again.
"Hey Monroe!" Miller called as he inspected the ground. "Look at this." He pointed to the mess of foot and hoof prints, and it looked very much like a struggle. He kneeled down to take a better look, and his suspicions were right. Now, who the hell would come here? Monroe gasped, and said, "These look like Lyfe's! Oh, my God Miler. I think she was kidnapped." Monroe cried out. What are we going to do? She thought as her eyes followed the hoof prints. "Oh, God! Oh, God!" Monroe was on the verge of a panic attack, and she begun to pace. Being one of self-control and toughness, this was unusual.
"Calm down, Monroe! I know this is very bad, and there is no other way, but we have to tell Bellamy. Oh, man. He is going to be pissed and frantic." Miller heard crackling on the radio, and Bellamy broke through, his image on the video screen was that of pure anger. If it were possible, he'd go through the small monitor and wring Miller's neck. He forgotten to shut it off during the search. Oh, fuck, he thought dismally. I am definitely dead. He doesn't look like a happy camper.
"Tell Bellamy what?" Bellamy asked through the radio, and he sounded tired and upset. "Miller, what the hell is going on, and where the hell is Lyfe? She isn't in our tent next to me. She should've been back already." His voice was rising in volume, and Miller heard obscenities through the line as Bellamy swept the electronic over the tent, showing an empty side of the bed. No need for that, dude, Miller thought.
He waited for a few seconds before he answered. "I think you better come out here, Bellamy, and see for yourself. I think the Grounders captured her." Bellamy came running out, shirtless, in a split second, and met Miller and Monroe to where the footprints were. He knelt down to examine the ground, feigning tears, and trying to keep his control. He pounded a fist, causing dirt to fly and scatter around the mess. "Fuck!" He swore loudly, causing both Miller and Monroe to jump up in surprise. Even though that this was normal, it still cause a little bit of a shock. He got up and exhaled sharply, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. Out of anger, Bellamy back kicked the ground, sending pebbles and dirt into the cold air. "Shit! Fuck! Damn it!" He swore again, getting it out of his system. He then gave both Miller and Monroe a hard glare. The two shrank under his intense scrutiny.
"I am going to the Grounders," was all he said after he calmed down, though out of breath ad shaking. "Get Finn and Jasper up, have them bring their guns and weapons, and have them meet me back out here. We are going to barbecue the Grounders. I will not let them get away with this. They should have been dead a long time ago." He began pacing to into the camp, when Monroe grasped his bare biceps. His muscles were tensed and he felt hot to the touch, despite the cold. He gave her a rigid stare, as he pushed her hand off him. "Monroe, let me go," he seethed through clenched teeth. His eyes were as black as the night sky. Scared of the pensive scowl, she backed away from him.
"What? Are you crazy?" Monroe asked unbelieving, a crack in her voice. "Right now? Bellamy, it's dark and cold. I think you should go at dawn. It'll be safer too because you can see the Grounders and won't fall into any of their traps. It will be a suicide mission if you leave now." She looked at Miller for back up support.
"She is right, Bellamy. Don't endanger your life. I am sure Lyfe will be okay. If she was one of the Grounders before, they can't harm-" Miller was cut off by Bellamy, who was stepping around the prints, and was breathing hard. He came face to face with Miller.
"NO!" Bellamy bellowed harshly, his breath in chilled clouds. "The longer we wait, the more danger Lyfe is in. They wouldn't spare her life because Anya is very vindictive. Didn't you guys take Survival Skills 101 back on the ARK? Oh, never mind. You were locked up for doing stupid shit." Bellamy was sweating bullets and he had to rescue Lyfe. Monroe and Miller were wasting his time. "If you are not going to help me, then I will it do it myself." Bellamy raced back to his tent, pulled his shirt back on, hoisted his rifle over his strong shoulders, grabbed his knife and put it into his back pocket, with the radio. Damn that he was going to wait until the morning light. Oh, God. Please let her be okay, he silently prayed. I cannot live without her. Just let her be okay. I promise I will be a better man if she will be okay.
The loud noise and rushing caused Clarke to wake up and had to come out of her tent. She seen Bellamy, looking like a soldier, going to war. What the hell is he up to now? She thought curiously. What's going on? What a minute. Where is his girlfriend? Rarely Bellamy is seen without her.
"Bellamy!" She called out. "What are you doing? It's the middle of the night." Clarke ran up to him, her boots kicking up dirt clouds. He stopped to look at her, but then continued walking fast. She had to keep up with him so she could get some answers. She had never seen him so angry before, and it frightened her. Bellamy wasn't even this pissed off at Murphy when he went insane. He nearly hung him in vengeance. What she heard next split her heart into two.
"The fucking Grounders took Lyfe when she was going to the bathroom," he replied in a hurried rage. "I am going to get her, then kill them. Finn and Jasper are coming too. I need you to stay here, Clarke, and make sure the gunners are on guard. I cannot say if more of the bastards are coming, so be prepared. I am sure Monty and Raven will be more than glad to help you out. I cannot endanger you by letting you go. I know you hate Lyfe being here, but she is one of us now." With that Bellamy stormed off. As Clarke watched him leave, she hoped that Lyfe was okay. Maybe I have been cruel to Lyfe. Bellamy really does love and cares for her. Or he wouldn't risk his life for her. I have been selfish, hoping for something that will never be. How could I of said that to another being? With sadness and concern, she went back to her tent. Before Finn left, she hugged and kissed him deeply. I also been unfair to Finn too. I have to tell him that I love him when he gets back, if he gets back. Because I do love him.
Miller and Monroe followed Bellamy's instructions, and Finn and Jasper, though tired, eagerly cooperated. Finn didn't like to fight, as he was all for neutrality and peace, but he would do so in order to protect the ones he loved. Jasper didn't like shooting a gun any more than the others, but will put his sniping skills into action whenever necessary. They grabbed the rifles, swords, radios, and other tools for protection. Then, the three of them embarked on a dangerous rescue mission.
Meanwhile, Lyfe was shackled by both hands, and by the waist in Anya's cave. The chains were slicing the skin as they were secured tightly. She was brought here by on Anya's horse, and she was stripped of her clothing, and was freezing. Her tanned skin shivered from the chilled drafts, and was far from Bellamy, and the others. She cried frantically and her left ankle was badly sprained. Pain shot up her leg every time she moved it, even the slightest millimeter. She couldn't stand up, so she had to sit on the hard ground. Please, God. She prayed. Just get me out of here. I don't want to be here. If I ever do get out of here, I will be that much stronger, and won't take things for granted.
Anya came into her cave with Tristan, and had an evil smile planted on her face. Instinctively, Lyfe scooted back, and tried to shrink herself against the stone wall. The chains clattered noisily as she moved. She whimpered as her injured ankle throbbed painfully. Her violet eyes and throat burned like wildfire from her intense sobbing. "What the hell do you want Anya? Why am I here?" Lyfe asked hoarsely, and blinked to ease the burning. Her evil sister, Anya walked up to her, her long coat and Tristan trailing behind her. The evil cold stare never left her dark, painted eyes. She looked down at Lyfe, venom flowing through her veins, and she smiled wickedly. Tristan display the exact same emotion.
"I understand that you've been staying with the kids who dropped from the sky. And that you been sleeping and having relations with the leader, Bellamy Blake. Lyfe, that is treacherous to the tribe, and you need to be punished," Anya told her with grim pleasure and she circled her like a bird hunting its prey. "It is also a betrayal to your own sister." She took out a knife from her side of her pants, and ran her finger down its blade, testing its sharpness. A perfect line of red formed from the inside tip to the palm, and Anya wiped it off on the suede fabric of her pants, as if it didn't bother her. How could she do this? She is really truly evil. Lyfe thought in disgust. Anya was about to slit Lyfe's slender throat, when Lyfe spoke up, a desperate attempt to buy time.
"Wait, Anya! I rightfully left the tribe and how I choose to live is my own business. Bellamy saved me and those kids are great, even Murphy changed his ways. He even allows me to help him. They are not a danger nor a threat to you, so please don't hurt them. They don't want anything to do with you, or the other Grounders. They came here to earth to start over their lives. Just like me when I left. I love Bellamy, Anya, and he is really a good man. He may be tough, and hard, and done some unthinkable things, but it's for his survival and the others.' Especially for his sister. I can't leave him, because I will die of a broken heart. So will him. If you were truly my sister, you let me be happy. You let me at least try at making my life better." Lyfe tried desperately to coax Anya to spare their lives, but apparently, Anya had different ideas. She began crying again as Anya slashed her beautiful cheek with her hunting knife. Blood started to ooze out of the wound, and it burned. Taking one of her shackled hands, Lyfe quickly wiped off some the blood, and pushed some of her hair back.
"Whether you left the tribe or not, Lyfe, your choices still reflect us. Once a Grounder, always a Grounder. Oh, I knew that you fell in love with Bellamy long ago, when you were still my second in command. I could have killed you that day, but I refrained. Why? Maybe I hoped that you leave him alone, but I must admit, he is too good looking to pass up. Hell, I'd fuck him too if given the chance, and if he wasn't the enemy. Pity the bastard didn't die when we infected them with Murphy, so we would not have to worry about him. Or any of the others for that matter. Damn that Clarke for not giving up. Anyways, I know you've been seeing him, and I know you left the tribe just to be with him. You slept with the enemy, no matter how good that is, and that itself is against our laws. When you break a law, you need to be punished. It is common knowledge." Anya gave Lyfe another deep cut on her cheek, and Lyfe felt its warmth cascade down her face. Crimson drops painted the ground in a star-like pattern. She shook her head, her hair started to cling to her wounds, and her cold, nude body shuddered from the fright. Then Lyfe exploded in a burst of strong emotion.
"No, I left because I DON'T want to murder, and witness your slaughter while I do nothing! Unlike you, I have a soul, and my parents were killed because they were good people. They should still be here, living; enjoying and taking the challenges of life. Your parents took that away, and they had no right. So, if you kill just because one cares and has a heart, or for the thrill, then you truly are a monster, Anya. Also, I do not consider you as my sister. Sisters don't hurt one another, and harm the ones they love. They respect and appreciate what they have." At that moment, Lyfe thought of Octavia and how she'd do anything for Bellamy. He would do anything to protect Octavia too. Lyfe wished that her relationship with Anya was like that, instead of hatred and fear.
"Your parents were executed because they were traitors, just like their daughter, you. And I suppose Bellamy was just a plus for you then, Lyfe? You don't convince me at all, and knowing you, you'll put our lives on the line for him. If that isn't being a deceitful bitch, then I don't know what is." Anya stooped down and grabbed Lyfe's wrist, and slashed it. As much as it hurt, Lyfe fought back tears, trying not to give Anya any satisfaction. Blood trickled down her arm as she lifted it to examine the cut. "I am only abiding the law, Lyfe. This would never have happened if you left."
"Please Anya," Lyfe tried begging once more. "I will get everyone to leave, and we'll go far away from here. You can have this whole area to yourself, the mountains, the trees, even the pond, it's all yours, and you don't have to worry about fighting or anything like that. Just please, do not hurt anyone. It won't solve anything. I truly love Bellamy." Lyfe watched Anya considered this, but then she shook her head, her blond and black hair slightly dancing in wisps. All of Lyfe's hopes and dreams exploded in an instant. "Why are you doing this?"
"Those kids crashed on Grounder territory as you know, their flare missiles wiped out an entire village, wreaking all hell since they arrived. They and anyone associated with them must be condemned. The crimes have already been committed, Lyfe. Stop trying to get out of it, and take your punishment like you deserve. No wonder my parents hated you. You cannot fight to save your life. You are weak, and you are a coward. You are a fault to the tribe, and a total loss. I hope you think good thoughts because I cannot imagine what Tristan has in store for you." Anya smiled at Tristan, who had the same evil glare. "I am not the only one who decides on punishment," Anya added darkly, her eyes glinted like coal. Oh, no. Bellamy, I am so sorry I got you into this. I am so sorry. I love you so much, and I never meant for this to happen.
Lyfe held the vivid portrait of Bellamy in her mind, his black glossy curls gleaming in the sunlight, his freckles brought out by the flames of the fire, his deep earth brown eyes sweeping over her as they made passionate love both morning and night, and his smile that ignited her soul and heart. She thought about his gentle kisses he made when he thought no one was watching, the way he caressed her face under the pale moonlight, and how his muscled body flexed when he was doing hard work. How his skin felt like heaven when she touched him, and gave her the alluring shivers down her spine. She would miss how he spoke, giving inspiring pieces in his deep, yet caring voice. Even the way he watched over his sister or yelled at Murphy when he was screwing around. She will miss that as well. Bellamy was the only thing that kept her hopes up and eased the searing pain, and emotional breakdowns. She was too weak to fight back anymore, even though she tried with all her power. I'll never see him again. I won't be in his arms anymore. Or taste his joyful kisses, breathe in his scent, hear his wonderful heartbeat, lay with him in our warm bed, gaze into his dark, mysterious eyes, or tell him that I love him with every breath I have. Lyfe sadly realized, and her eyes started to water again. Now, it seemed once upon a dream that Bellamy existed. I will always cherish the moments we had together. After Anya sliced her other cheek and wrist, she gave the knife to Tristan. He then towered over Lyfe, getting ready to what was coming to her. Lyfe looked up at him with pure terror in her eyes, and got into a protective, fetal position. She prayed that it will go quickly. She threw up from all the stress she was going through, and she tremored violently.
"Do what you want with Lyfe, Tristan. Make sure she suffers for her crimes." Then, Anya swiftly left the cave, and Lyfe knew she was smiling, and was laughing at her misery. How could she do this? How? Does she really despite me that much? The next thing Lyfe knew was that she was laying on the cold floor, her lean legs forced apart. Her ankle was screaming in white hot pain as Tristan chained them tightly to the wall, just like her bloodied wrists. She tried to wiggle herself out of them, but it was no use. He then forced himself into her, and she tried to fight him off. With her nails, she tried to crawl at his gruesome face, but he forcefully pushed her hands away. He was much bigger and stronger then she, so the attempts failed. He stopped for a minute, so he could speak.
"You know, Lyfe. You could've been my wife, and had a great life. I would have treated you like a queen. Gave you everything your pathetic heart desired, and more. We could've ruled the land and have everything. Instead, you had to whore around with Bellamy Blake, and all it got you was trouble. How stupid can you be Lyfe?" He gave a low sadistic chuckle in his throat.
"I'd rather be his whore then be your wife. You are a monster to the highest degree. I do not want to rule with you. EVER. Bellamy's a devoted leader to his people, more than you will ever be. So, fuck you, you sick, disgusting, twisted psychopath." Lyfe furiously spat at him, causing Tristan to roar out, and slapped her hard across her face, which felt like an electric bolt. Lyfe winced at the sting that it left, and moved her jaw to check to feel if it was broken. Gratefully, it wasn't, but it cause a few aching throbs. He took the knife and sliced her skin across her collarbone. Blood trickled down in between her breasts, allowing temporary warmth. He would have gotten to the jugular vein, but Lyfe quickly moved, and he missed only by a few centimeters.
"Damn it!" He cursed vehemently. "This would be a lot easier if you just stop squirming. Stay put!" Tristan forced himself onto Lyfe again, laughing maliciously as he was doing it. How could such a demon exist? Lyfe thought, trying to comprehend such a fact.
"I will let you in on a little secret here. Anya and I were coming to the camp tonight, and we were going to kill everyone, in laceration style. Then, set the camp on fire. Nobody would have a chance to escape. But we figured that if we just took you, and killed you, Bellamy would suffer tremendously, painfully rather, and thus it would have bought the camp down. This way will give us even more pleasure and satisfaction. We don't take to newcomers, kindly. Yet, I don't know what Bellamy has that I don't, Lyfe. Whatever, it's not important now as you are mine to finish." Tristan brought the knife to her throat, and she eyed it, her breathing became low and shallow. No, too easy. I will make her death worth it. He thought with malice. Such a shame too, because Lyfe is such a beautiful, little thing.
"What Bellamy has is humanity, something that you will never have, Tristan," Lyfe answered his question honestly. And he is kind, good, amazing, and will do anything to protect those he loves. And an excellent lover." The last part made Lyfe grin, and Tristan grunted like he'd been kicked in the groin.
"Where is your amazing, loving, and protective Bellamy now? He isn't here, is he?" Tristan mocked and laughed at the cold fact and he propped himself onto Lyfe again. She felt his weight crush her small, sparrow like body. She squeaked out in agony, trying to shield herself from the beast above her.
"Please Tristan," Lyfe begged mercilessly, tears coursing down her cheeks. "You don't have to do this, as it hurts so much, and I couldn't help falling in love. Please stop. Nobody should never be treated like this or go through it. If you are human, you wouldn't do this." Her cries fell on deaf ears as Tristan forced himself on her again, and then took the knife and begun ripping her from the inside of her vagina. The pain that it was leaving was excruciating. Oh, my God! He is destroying me. Oh, Bellamy! I wish you were here! I can't fight this myself anymore. I need you now. Lyfe could hear and feel the delicate skin tearing, and she gasped in horror and emitted a piercing scream that could shatter glass. The screams were ignored as Tristan continued to slash and cut, each more painful than the last. How long will this go on? Good bye, Bellamy. I love you. Soon, a pool of blood flowed beneath her, painting her body in red, and the last two things she remembered before she blacked out was a loud cracking of gunfire and fragments of bone shattering to the ground.