SPLIT | The 100 | 1

My Sisters Keeper (part 2)

The bars, that's the first thing I saw when I woke up. The steel bars that I assume are confining me. I try to move one of my hands to my head however it's are bound, both are. That's when I realize I am strapped to a table, bound by some rope. My hands, feet spread apart, body and neck all constrained. I can feel the rope digging into my skin creating an itch that can't be scratched. I lift my head as much as I can and take in the room I am caged in. It's dark, barely any light coming in through the cracks in the rock walls. 
Its been a few hours since I woke up. The silence is deafening. I thought I would be use to the silence since I was deaf for sixteen years, but ever since I could hear I hated the silence. Now that I can hear the silence is the one thing that scares me.
Someone then unlocked and entered the cage abruptly. They start speaking but I don't understand them. While on the ground they must have made up there own language. I believe that they won't understand me so I don't speak. Another one entered the cage, this time a man. He was tall, had light brown hair, a scar beneath his lips and tattoos running up and down his arms. He is handsome to say the least. The two start communicating. After a while they look to me.
"Who are you?" the women asks. I just stay quiet. Maybe I'll live longer if I can be no use to them. However if I'm no use to them they could just kill me. "I'll only ask once more. Who are you?" Her voice is raw, her eyes are threatening, but still I do not speak. She looks to the man, "did she say anything when you first took her?" I look at him, straight in the eyes begging for him not to tell her I speak english. He looks back to the women and shakes his head.
The women grabs something from the table beside me. I can not see what it is. "You will talk." she paces around the room. "Or I will make you talk." She holds up a dagger. My breathing begins to quicken. I'm in deep shit here. She grabs onto my arm and aggressively rips my shirt. I shake my head furiously, but I remain quiet. The last thing I want to do is let them get to me, and know about my people. She places the cool blade along my heated body. I can hear my heartbeat in my head. "Last chance." She then says something to the man, it must have meant for him to leave. Shit, shit, shit.
The blade pierces my skin, cutting deeper and deeper every second. I let out a scream. Never in my life have I experienced so much physical pain. She moved from my arm to my stomach. She lifted up my shirt ever so slightly to reveal my pale figure. Once again I feel the cool blade sink into myself, and once again I scream. She cuts several more times. The amount of blood I'm losing weakens me.
Finally she left the room. My body is weak. It must be dark outside because I can no longer see light coming from the cracks in the rock walls. I hear the women talk to someone outside the cage. She is talking in her other language so I don't understand a word she says. I see the man who captured me walk in with a wooden bucket. He kneels down next to the table I am strapped to. Lucky for him, or else I would have beaten him to a pulp.
Suddenly I feel something press up on my figure. "Calm down, its just a rag." I lift my head ever so slightly to see him cleaning off all the dried blood. I huff in annoyance and bang my head against the table. What has my life come to? Why did I have to leave Murphy? At least with him I was safe. Well safer than here. I hiss in pain when he cleans my cuts. "Stay calm, I need to make sure it doesn't get infected."
I spit in his face. "Your the one who brought me here. Why do you care if it gets infected?" I whisper in fit of rage.
He wipes his face and looks my in the eye. Its only then do I notice that his are blue. "Octavia is safe." I look to him in a state of confusion. I completely forgot about my sister being taken. At least she is safe. He gets up and places the rag in the bucket and starts to walk to the door.
"Wait." He stops. "What's your name?"
He turns around, "Cyrus." With that he leaves.