Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100

Warnings for manipulation and predatory behavior and child abuse, and pedophilia-that being of an older kid taking advantage of younger girls-(Bellamy. Is anyone surprised?) Later on definitely sexual assault or very close to sexual assault.

Some of this is inspired a bit by Wheelhouse101's Lavigne Manor. I love that one...and it hasn't been updated in forever.

Voices from the stone

Chapter one: Start digging

Six years. It had been six years since her grandfather had died. Clarke hadn't been particularly close with her grandfather, Joseph Griffin, but she had felt sad when he had died, when Clarke was five years old. Still, it wasn't like when her father, Jake had died, a year ago. She had adored her father. Worshipped him. Loved him more than anyone. She loved her mama, but she would never be able to love her mama, the way she loved her daddy. She knew that that was probably a mean thing to think. But it was the truth.

Clarke wondered if her mother resented her for that. But she hoped not.

Clarke Eliza Griffin, age ten, had barely any other family, save for her mother, Abby Griffin.

Her grandmother had died two years before she was born, she had never met her mother's parents, and her grandfather had died of a heart attack when Clarke had been five and her daddy had died of a shooting, when Clarke had been ten.

Clarke knew that her mother was dating, not long after her daddy had died. The man that her mama was dating, a man named Marcus Kane, wasn't a cruel man, or anything, from what Clarke could see. But it hurt. It really hurt that her mama was moving on, so soon after Clarke's daddy, Jake Griffin, had died.

Clarke had nightmares almost every night of the way in which he had died.

Clarke and Abby had not been there when Jake had been shot through the head. Clarke's daddy had gone out for a business trip and had been shot in his office. There was no footage of who had done it. Clarke's daddy's office was out of the range of the camera, so no one was recorded having shot him. And there were no witnesses.

But Clarke of course, hated whoever had murdered her daddy. Whoever had taken him from her.

She had paid almost obsessive attention to the news for the past year, hoping to hear anything about anything found about the murderer of her daddy. But no news, local or otherwise, sounded even close to what she was looking for.

Murder, you wouldn't think that that was something that happened often in Manchester, New Hampshire. And it wasn't. But it happened.

Murder wasn't common in a lot of cities in New Hampshire. Didn't mean that they didn't occur.

When Clarke, age nine, at the time, had heard that her daddy had been shot, from the police? She had been numb. Then angry. She had wanted to scream at that officer for spouting what she thought at the time, was a lie. Or at least, that was what she told herself, it was. Then she had screamed and cried and sobbed.

It hurt. It hurt too much.

And the more it hurt? The more she hated the person that had shot her daddy.

Soon? Her mama had moved with Clarke closer to a more rural area in Manchester.

They now lived in a house close to an area near the water, but near a forest too.

It was nice there, Clarke admitted. But it stung all the more, because she knew that the house they were moving into? Was the house that her daddy had picked out when they were planning on moving from the main part of the city. Now the house was occupied by Clarke, Abby and Abby's new boyfriend, Marcus Kane. Kane was now living where Jake Griffin should have lived.

It just made Clarke all the more angry.

Which was why she walked to the forest, angry, bitter, upset.

She had been there a few times, but she went deeper into the forest this time. Deeper and away from the house where her mother was, and where the man that her mother kept expecting her to call "dad," lived.

It was enough to make Clarke want to wretch in anger.

Clarke kept moving through the forest, wanting to just get away.

They had been living here for half a month now. Clarke hoped that her mother wouldn't come looking for her soon.

(Probably not,) Clarke thought angrily, (She probably has Kane to keep herself occupied.)

The thought just made her go faster past the many trees.

Finally, she stopped near a large rock, which was surrounded by many trees, and Clarke paused, noticing a few odd marks on the rock.

These weren't symbols. At least, she didn't think so. There were what looked like slash marks all over the rock. Like claw marks or something.

Clarke narrowed her eyes.

What had caused that?

"Weird," she said, wondering uneasily, if a bear was nearby, but also wondering if a bear even could actually cut into a rock with its claws.

She then stiffened up, when she heard a voice come from out of nowhere. And she didn't hear it…it was in her head.

And the voice wasn't her own thoughts.

The voice said, (What's weird, girl, is you wandering out here on your own, when there are bears and bobcats in the forest. Shouldn't you go back home, wherever that is, where it's safe?)

Clarke gasped, stepping back several feet. That voice…where had it come from?

She looked around where she stood. She saw no one. No one but her was here. She shivered. Had she just imagined that voice?

She then shivered when she heard the voice again. It said, (I have to say, we didn't expect you to show up this soon.)

Clarke gasped.

That was a different voice. She knew it, because the first voice had sounded like a woman's voice. This one sounded like a man's voice.

Then another voice came, another voice that sounded like a woman's. But different from the first woman's voice. It said, (You shouldn't be here, little one. At least, not without knowing why you're here.)

Clarke shook her head, gasping.

The young girl of only ten, backed away.

She was hearing these voices for real. She was sure of it. And it made her blood run cold.

She quickly turned and ran from the group of trees and the rock with the claw marks on it.

She gasped for breath as she neared her new house, running fast.

She felt her heart hammer in her chest. What the hell was that?!

She all but cried out as she collided with the wooden steps going up to the front door of her house.

She balanced herself, then ran up the steps to the front door, opening up the door and running inside.

She gasped and panted as she got into the residence.

She closed the door fast and locked it, panting deeply and tiredly, shaking. She knew she was out of shape. She was small and thin, but she hadn't exercised a lot. She hated going to gym class. Honestly, who did, besides those boys that liked to make fun of other people and make rude comments about girls?

Then again, there were those snotty girls that were good at sports and always put other girls outside of their groups down.

Either way, Clarke disliked both categories.

But that was besides the point. The point was, there was something in the forest that had spoken to her. And she was positive that she had actually heard those voices. She shivered.

Clarke thought for a moment that maybe she had imagined it, but no, she knew that that wasn't right. And she also thought of the possibility that she might be losing her mind. She heard how kids her age talked about people being crazy. There were all sorts of mean things kids called going crazy.

"Cray-cray" was one of the more popular terms.

Clarke hoped she wasn't, but she also didn't think she was. Because she would have had to start have been hearing voices a long time ago, right?

No. She wasn't losing her mind.

This was something else.

As Clarke took a deep breath, she nodded, sure of what she had decided.

She had heard it. Whatever that had been in the forest? She had heard it.

She cursed quietly. What the hell did she do now? She couldn't tell her mom or Kane about it. Her mother wouldn't believe her. That, Clarke knew instantly. Her daddy would have believed her. But her mama wouldn't.

And Kane? From what Clarke had seen of Kane when it came to Clarke trying to get her mama to listen to her about something? Kane always took Abby's side. Clarke supposed she understood that. Didn't want to ruin your chances at being with the person you loved, right? Again, she knew that some of the other girls at school and some of the boys, had much worse terms than what she was thinking, but she decided not to think too much about that.

Kids talked about the big "S" word, all the time. But young as Clarke was? The ten-year-old knew that just because kids talked about "sex," the subject kids weren't supposed to talk about, didn't mean that they knew anything about sex at all.

She didn't want to think too much about her mom and Kane having sex.

And if there was a baby as a result of their relationship? Clarke didn't know exactly how babies were made, but she knew that sometimes from sex, there was a baby. She had no idea why. But she didn't want to think about her mom having a baby with Kane. Or anyone but her daddy.

Clarke wondered if she would hate any baby that her mama and Kane had together. She tried not to think like that, but she knew there was a possibility that she might.

Clarke breathed out more evenly, as she looked out the window. She didn't see anyone or anything outside.

Still…she had heard voices, right? She knew she had.

Where had those voices come from? Who had been talking to her?

She shivered, hugging herself.

She backed up from the door, and turned, going down the hall, going to her room all the way in the back of the hall.

She didn't want to be here anymore. She wanted to be closer to the city and away from that forest that she now felt to be…haunted? Dangerous? Probably both.

Clarke didn't even believe in ghosts. She didn't, because her daddy hadn't.

When Clarke had asked Jake about the forest that they'd be moving close to, before his murder, she'd ask if he believed that the forest had ghosts and she had watched as he paused, then had chuckled and said, "No, Clarke, honey, there aren't any ghosts in that forest. Not from what I know."

Yes, Clarke found what he had said, odd, even then. But she hadn't asked more.

In any case, she was glad that she had gotten out of that forest, fast. She decided that if she ever went into that forest ever again? She would be way more equipped. With flashlights, a knife and maybe a large stick.

A thought struck her then and Clarke was relieved that it was just her thoughts, and her thoughts alone, (But can you defend yourself against ghosts with a stick, a flashlight and a knife?)

Clarke swallowed.

Well, she knew that answer. No, you could not.

But they weren't going to be leaving this place, as far as Clarke knew, possibly never.

So, then what was she supposed to do? Never go to the forest?

She knew that wasn't an option. Staying out of that forest for the rest of her life would be most likely impossible.

What could she do?

Clarke shivered again, feeling her heart rate finally begin to slow down. She took a deep breath and made her choice for tomorrow.

Tomorrow, stupid as the choice was? She was going to go back to the forest and listen to those voices.

The next day, after having tolerated listening to her mother and Kane interact, she went back to the forest, and stayed there, seating herself on a log, and waited. She looked around the row of trees and then at the large rock with the claw marks on it, and announced loudly, as the birds chirped and the insects buzzed, "Alright, I'm here. And I'm waiting. So, out with it, if anyone has anything to say."

Being only ten, Clarke, of course, wasn't nearly as tough as she sounded.

She was only talking tough to get something to happen.

And for a time? Nothing happened.

Then the voices came, just when Clarke was prepared to get up off of the log.

Or at least, one voice did.

It was a man's voice.

The voice said, (We see you've returned. We're happy you did.)

Clarke swallowed and stayed where she was.

"Who are you?" She asked.

After a few seconds, the answer came. This time it was another man's voice that answered.

The voice said, (The answer to that is somewhat difficult to explain. We are friends. Let's put it that way. We want you to be happy. Do you want to be happy, Clarke?)

Clarke found this conversation, very strange. But she snorted the words out, "Yeah, I do want to be happy. Who doesn't?"

(Good to know,) a woman's voice said, (We can help you with that, if you'd like. We hope you can trust us with that.)

"I think it will be hard to trust random voices that I've never heard before in my head," Clarke said, "And that's not even talking about the voices that I hear, but can't see the people that the voices belong to."

Clarke was startled when she heard the sounds that she recognized as chuckles rumbling through her mind.

Apparently, she had amused the owners of these voices.

(We understand,) a man's voice said, (But try to think about it like this. You can always run away. I assure you, we are in a position where we won't be able to come after you. Even if you believe that we might hurt you, which we won't, you still can run away.)

Clarke thought about that. She didn't detect deceit in this new voice. But for all she knew? Maybe the voices were all lying.

About what? And why were they lying? She didn't have a clue.

But she knew that a lot of people could lie. And these voices probably could too.

Her elementary school was right next to a middle school and a high school. And there was this boy that went to the high school, named Bellamy Blake, who she hated and felt disgust in her stomach whenever she saw him. And the elementary school yard, the middle school yard and the yard in front of the high school? They were right by each other. So, Clarke had heard the things that Bellamy would tell the boys with him, to do his bidding.

The promises he would make them.

You didn't have to be an adult to know that the words that spilled out of Bellamy's mouth, were lies.

It was sad, though. Those stupid boys that followed Bellamy? They didn't realize that Bellamy was lying, but Clarke did. But she was younger.

She realized it, why couldn't they?

And no, she didn't think it was because they were boys and so, they were dumber than her. After all, her daddy? If you had asked her ever, who she thought was the smartest person in the world? She would say her daddy, every time. He was smarter than anyone, man or woman. She just figured that the boys that followed Bellamy, were particularly stupid teenagers.

You'd have to be stupid, if you believed a thing that Bellamy Blake said.

And it wasn't just stupid teenage boys. Clarke had seen a few teenage girls that loved hanging out with Bellamy. The thing was? These girls were always younger than Bellamy.

Always. Bellamy was now almost seventeen. The girls that he was with, doing things which Clarke couldn't help but assume were those "sex things" that boys and girls did together, were as young as fourteen or even thirteen.

The teenagers always went behind the teachers' backs, and made sure word never got out about an older boy having sex with girls as young as thirteen or fourteen.

But a lot of the kids knew.

They were just afraid of Bellamy having them beaten up.

Clarke had contemplated telling the teachers or even calling the police. But she never did.

Not out of fear. But because she had seen the way those younger girls looked at Bellamy.

For some reason? They wanted him.

Clarke had heard her daddy talk about young children involved with adults or even just older kids in that way. He had told her that if any adult approached her and tried to touch her like that or any older kid tried to or anyone tried to touch her inappropriately, she was to tell him and her mother immediately.

Clarke was just going to guess that none of the girls who Bellamy "touched," told their parents about what they did with Bellamy.

But Clarke got the horrible sense that those girls were with Bellamy because they wanted to be.

She didn't understand it, and it made her sick just thinking about, but if she called the police, what would happen?

She had a feeling that nothing would happen. The girls and the boys would all do the same thing.

They'd lie for Bellamy.

The point was? Everyone lied. Everyone. So, were these voices any different?

Clarke cautiously asked, "Prove it. Show me a way for me to trust all of you. Whoever you are."

(Alright,) a woman's voice said, (we can offer you something. A piece of proof. Go to the front yard of your house. And bring a small shovel. Dig under the porch just in front of the house, all the way to the right, from when you come out of the house. The farthest right-hand corner of the house, to the right of when you exit the house. Dig there. You'll find something that will be worth your time. Find it and keep it for yourself. Do not let either your mother or Kane know that you have it.)

Clarke paused, thinking about that. What did that mean?

(Go on,) another man's voice said, (Go to that spot at the porch, and start digging. You will see that we're giving you something that will show you that we are on your side. Go on. I'm sure you have something like shovels in your house.)

(It's alright, girl,) a new voice, a man's voice, husky and almost a threatening whisper, (We know it will help you. Don't show it to your mama. Or to Kane. Keep it for yourself.)

Clarke furrowed her eyebrows. Yes, she had small shovels in her house. They had belonged to her daddy's daddy. To Joseph Griffin. He had used them for digging up his potted plants and putting them into new pots. Abby now held onto them, but she was considering throwing them out.

But Clarke had no idea what could possibly be in this corner of the porch that these voices were talking about.

And to keep it from her mother? She knew that had to be wrong, but knowing that there was something she knew that her mother didn't know, her mother with all her lecturing and insults about how "stupid" and "useless" Clarke was, made Clarke smile.

She had no idea what was under the house. Still, she might as well find out, right?

"Alright," she said, "I'll go and dig up whatever that thing is, on the right-hand corner of the house's porch. I don't know what this is about. But I'll do it." She got up from the log and began walking away from the enclosure. She said, "You'll still be here when I finish doing that?"

Clarke wasn't sure why she felt so hopeful at the thought of the source of the voices, whatever that source may be, might still be present when she came back. Curiosity, probably.

Clarke tried not to feel somewhat relieved, when she heard one of the women's voices say, (Yes, Clarke, we'll be here when you finish. We'll be right here.)

Clarke nodded and walked back in the direction of her house. She was going to go to the basement of the house, get a small shovel, then, while her mother and Kane were out in the backyard, having a drink; whatever that meant, and dig up the space that the voices were talking about, under the right-hand corner of the porch in the front yard.

She'd see what this was all about. Or at least, she hoped she would.