Whispers of deceit
Chapter 2
Clarke was surprised, after having no longer to deal with the sense of being unwanted and loved and all her self-esteem being torn apart by her supposed "family," that she actually was able to make friends pretty easily.
At the end of her high school, she'd made a few friends; Roma, Del, Deek.
It was nice.
And when she moved on to college, she made more friends.
It was almost as if constantly telling someone that they were worthless, stupid and unwanted and disgusting, made people feel like they were unworthy and not reach out to others.
Imagine that.
For years, Clarke had learned to care more about herself and open herself up to people more.
When she was nineteen, that was when everything began to crumble apart.
It started out small.
Little things that she would ask the people that had supported her for years-the people on the hotline, and she had come to consider part of her family, as well.
And it was then she'd notice odd things.
Details that the people she spoke to gave, that just didn't add up.
It started out small.
Clarke had hoped to meet these people.
She really had.
And she still wanted to.
But there were things they'd say occasionally that began to spike warnings in the back of her mind.
She asked cautiously, already believing that they would say "no," if they wanted to meet up.
And it was foolish of her to even consider it, she knew, but she had to ask it.
And it was even more foolish of her, but she didn't see it as a warning sign when the people she had spoken to on the hotline, said "yes."
But she desperately wanted to be with them.
In some way. She wasn't sure how they would have her, or what exactly she wanted from them, she could admit.
But she just wanted to see them.
When she asked them when they would want to meet up.
She also asked what sort of things they liked to do.
Looking back on it, she realized later that what she was doing, was extremely stupid.
Stupid with a huge capital fucking "S."
But she did it anyway.
At the time, Clarke had realized that it was stupid because she was doing something inappropriate or even illegal. But she hadn't realized how stupid it was on a potential danger perspective.
Clarke then when she had asked one of the women who she was speaking to, Diana, where they'd want to meet, Diana had said something that had almost made her heart stop.
Diana said, "Would you like to meet in the park? Where the sculptures are. Citygarden Sculpture Park? We know you like going there, recently, anyway."
Clarke almost dropped the phone when she heard that.
Within the city of St. Louis, Clarke's home and the home of her family and friends, were many parks.
One of these parks, one that was near Clarke's college and one that she had gone to several times now, was a park called "Citygarden Sculpture Park."
Clarke had gone there regularly now for her lunches between classes.
But she hadn't told any of the people who she was speaking to over the phone.
She hadn't told them.
How did they know?
Was it just an educated guess? She had told them what college she was going to. Did they just assume that she went to that park every now and then during lunch?
"What do you mean?" Clarke asked, finding her voice slightly shaky as she asked the question.
"Clarke," Diana said, sounding sad when she spoke, "I think we need to stop avoiding this. All of us want to be honest with you. And we hope you can forgive us for deceiving you this long."
Clarke felt her hairs on the back of her neck begin to stand up on end. She wasn't sure she liked where this was going.
"Sorry," She said quietly, "Diana, what do you mean, exactly?"
Diana took a breath before answering, "Clarke we thought about not telling you. But we want to be more honest with you. We're hoping you'll meet with us. But we want you to hear the truth from us first. The night that Abby and her adoptive children died? We made sure that you were with your friend, Harper and her parents, when…when we took care of them."
Clarke felt her heart indeed stop then.
"Wait…," she mumbled, "Diana…are you saying that all of you-?"
Clarke swallowed, feeling her throat horribly dry.
She had started the day so happily, now it felt like ice was in her blood.
"We did what we had to, to free you from your abusive family, Clarke," Diana said, her voice nothing but honest, truthful.
Clarke felt like she might be sick, her stomach turning.
How? How had they-?
But still, her mind was trying to deny what it had processed through hearing what she had heard.
These people had…they were the ones that had killed Abby Griffin and her adoptive children?
Yes, Clarke had wondered at times, who it was that had killed Abby, Abby's boyfriend, Kane, and all of Abby's adoptive children.
She had wondered who exactly the person was, why they had done it, and would they come after her one day.
And yes, she had entertained the notion that it was more than one person that had done it. It was a rational answer that there were more than one person involved, right?
Even if all of the victims were kneecapped before they were killed, it would take a long time to beat someone to death, even with a crowbar, right?
That was why Clarke had concluded that it was probably some sort of gang attack on Abby and her adoptive siblings. Maybe even on Kane too.
Clarke had then remembered that Bellamy and Murphy both, were involved in some crimes before their deaths.
She had reasoned at the time, that maybe the two of them had pissed off the wrong people and it ended with their deaths and the deaths of everyone the two of them were with.
That was what she had reasoned at the time.
Wasn't it a reasonable argument?
But now, Clarke was being told differently?
Clarke felt sick.
The people that she had spoken to for years, had trusted with so many secrets, so many intimate secrets and even had admitted to them that she was happy that her birth mother was murdered?
These people the ones that had done it?
"Y-you did it?" Clarke asked, frozen to the spot of where she was standing in her room.
"We did, Clarke," Diana said, "I am sorry if that wasn't what you wanted to hear. But it's the truth."
Clarke shook. "How many of you were involved?" She asked, feeling extremely fragile.
"All of us," Diana answered, "All of us who you have spoken to over the years? We promised each other that we would protect you. That we'd take care of you."
Clarke now, and only now, crazy as it might have sounded, began to realize the danger she had put herself in.
"I…I never told you about Kane," she said, feeling like she couldn't move, she was so shocked and horrified.
"You did not," Diana agreed, "But he was easy enough to track down. All we had to do was look up Abby's full name, and see the website of the job where she was working at. She is there in one picture, with her boyfriend, Kane."
Clarke's teeth clenched together.
These people were stalking her. They had stalked her for years now.
"I told you so much," she whispered, "I trusted all of you."
"You did," Diana said quietly, "And we don't like it that we have more or less betrayed you. But I promise you, we didn't really betray you. We killed them so that you could be free of them. And that you could be happy."
"You're insane," Clarke whispered, feeling ice flood her heart and stomach.
These people had come to mean so much to her, and they had…
There was a shifting sound, and then Clarke heard not Diana's voice on the line, but Helena's voice.
"Are we?" Helena asked, "You were happy that Abby and her adoptive children and Kane were murdered, yes? Be honest, Clarke. You can always be honest with us. Always."
Clarke shook, feeling horror and more horror in her chest.
"Clarke," Helena said, sounding startlingly gentle, "Tell us. You can tell us. Please be honest with us. You were happy that Abby and her adoptive children and Kane died, weren't you? You're still happy that they're all dead."
Clarke knew she shouldn't answer Helena, but she felt the truth come out anyway.
"Yes," she answered, "I was happy. I'm still happy that they're dead."
Helena let out a small, content noise without any words attached.
She then answered, "We know, Clarke. We know. And you don't have to hide anything from us. Never from us. We understand why you say the things you say, and do the things you do. Don't be afraid of us, Clarke. We just want to be there for you."
Clarke said quietly, "Don't…don't ever come near me again."
She heard Helena chuckle, then she heard several chuckles somewhere behind Helena.
There was another shifting sound, then she heard Yelena's voice.
Yelena said, "We'll be seeing you very soon, Clarke."
Clarke gasped, hanging up the phone, placing it back onto her shelf and stepping away from it, staring at it.
She felt tears begin to form in her eyes, unaware of it until she felt hot water run down her cheeks.
She had trusted these people. She hated trusted all of them.
Clarke let out a whine, and left her room, going down the stairs to where her adoptive mother, Callie, sat at her computer. Callie turned around, hearing someone approaching her, and her eyes widened when she saw Clarke crying.
"Clarke, baby?" She asked, opening her arms for Clarke to run to, "What's wrong?"
Clarke embraced her mother and cried against Callie's neck, shaking as her mother held her.
Callie hushed her gently, asking her what was wrong, asking if Clarke could just tell her what was wrong, but Clarke couldn't say it.
She was too ashamed.
The next few days, Clarke pretended that everything was alright, but she knew that her mother knew that she was still in pain. And she was positive that several of her siblings, if not all of them, could tell that something was off.
Clarke kept quiet, however, about everything she had heard.
She understood it was selfish, since the question lurked in her mind, what if the people that she trusted, came after her and her family got caught in the crossfire?
This was why she always looked around whenever she was walking back from college or walking anywhere, for that matter, making sure that she wasn't followed.
This was why she always kept the door locked. She always did before, but she made sure over and over again, now that she knew what the people she had trusted over the years, were capable of.
Later on, she realized with a pain in her chest, that some part of her had hoped so much to meet them, before they had revealed themselves to be mass murderers, that she had begun to romanticize them.
Well, that delusion over them was gone now, wasn't it?
Two weeks after Diana, Helena and the others had revealed to Clarke what they had done, one night, Clarke went out, tossing out the garbage, checking her surroundings, as she often had done for these past few weeks, and after dumping the bag of garbage inside the bin, then closing the bin, she looked up and paused, noticing a figure by the front entrance of the gate to her and her family's home.
It was a woman, at least, Clarke was positive from the outline, that it was.
Clarke slowly backed away to the door of her house. She called to the person at the doorway, "You'd better leave, unless you tell me why you're here, unless you want to be fucked up by the police!"
She waited, relieved that her voice had sounded strong when she had shouted the words.
The figure, making Clarke even more uncomfortable, moved away from the doorway of the entrance, disappearing behind the wall.
Clarke quickly went inside the house and closed the door, locking it.
She tried to remain confident, telling herself that two of her family members; Sterling and Wells, were still home.
Callie was at a work meeting. And Finn was out with some friends and Zoe was out on a date with someone she'd met in college; Fox.
But Sterling and Wells were still here for the time being.
Still, she knew she needed to tell them to be careful. And to call all three Callie, Zoe and Finn, tell them that there were intruders nearby.
Clarke moved to grab the phone off of the wall, intent on calling Callie first, when a voice spoke behind Clarke directly, making her heart stop.
It wasn't the voice of either Sterling or Wells.
It was a voice she recognized, on the other hand.
It was Natasha's voice.
"Hello, Clarke," Natasha said, directly behind Clarke, with no distance between her and Clarke now, nothing to protect Clarke from Natasha or any of the women who had stalked Clarke now for years.