Taming Chaos // J.M // The 100

Chapter 81

The following days are worse than they've ever been.

The guards are unhinged. They insist on blaming them for Mount Weather.

But Ethan's numb. Quiet. And Jeremy hates getting nothing as a response from him. He likes his reactions. A sick, sick man.

"Why is your hair so long? I'm getting sick of it." He hisses, clicking the cuffs around Ethan's wrist and tugging at the chain connected to the wall. Satisfied, he lets it go and takes a seat.

Staring down at the bucket with lidded eyes, Ethan's mouth works before his brain. "I don't know if you haven't noticed but hair grows."

"Come here."

Ethan slows. He glances up through his fringe, locks onto the knife being flipped in a hand, and takes a heavy breath. Somewhere in the void, in the sarcastic comments and vague answers, is a flash of worry.

"No."

Not that.

Jeremy tilts his head, standing up. "What the fuck did you say?"

His grip tightens on the knife and just as Ethan thinks he's going too slow to do anything, Jeremy jerks forward, hand baring across his nape, fingers digging in and pushing down -

It sends a signal to Ethan's brain, lighting his nerves with fear.

His knees hit the ground, shoulders shrinking away in expectation of the shock bound to hit. "Wait! I'm sorry -"

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Jeremy smiles viscously.

Alessia's cage shakes. Her wide eyes are watching, hands banging at the wood. "Leave him-!"

"Pleni." Ethan hurries to say, meeting her gaze. "Beja." Stop. Please.

Jeremy grits his teeth, "Shut up." He presses down, "Stay the hell still or the knife goes in your neck. It doesn't bother me any."

Ethan looks at his knees with pleading eyes. Contemplates his chances of struggling.

The length of his hair is something he's had constant control over. Though he'd cut above his shoulders at ALIE's mansion, that had been his choice.

Ethan squeezes his eyes shut.

His shoulders shake silently the minute Jeremy switches from his neck to his hair.

And within the hour, he's back in the wooden cage.

His head feels light. Strands tickle his ears and brows. His cheeks are itchy and he tastes salt at his tongue. He doesn't meet Alessia's searching eyes, trying very hard to keep the blank look on his face despite the hole that's burrowing into his heart the more he sits through this.

First the bunker. Second the basement. The third was supposed to be a lucky charm, travelling back to the Ark with Murphy to check on the delinquents.

But in the end, it was his worst enemy.

His friends are dead. He misses Murphy. He's slowly decaying and it's only been two weeks. 

Ethan is frail.

That streak breaks tonight.

"Oso frag em op nat." He hisses. Out of his peripheral, he sees Alessia nod, her face hardening. The other grounder, still reeling after her friend's death, nods as well.

We kill him tonight.

It'd been three hours exactly.

The plan was a go.

Jeremy's on his break and Erica's on her way inside.

Ethan flicks his hand, the signal seen in the dim light by the others. He drops like a sack of potatoes, closes his eyes, and starts the process, jerking his limbs close to his body in repeated movements.

"Hey-" Alessia starts, loud enough for it not to echo outside, "Sky person! Sis em au, beja."

"What the. . ?" Erica lowers the gun she'd been pacing with and rushes over to Ethan's cage, scrambling for her key. She drops it when he seizes more violently but is quick to retrieve the metal, digging it into the lock, folding down the opening and -

Alessia glances at the entrance, it's clear. She glances at Erica, she's distracted.

"Klir."

Ethan twists and lunges in a matter of seconds. He clamps a dirty hand over the woman's mouth and rolls so that his arm is tight around her throat, legs locking her in place.

His eyes widen in malicious glee watching her struggle for breath.

She drops, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Hastily, Ethan lets go. He scrambles for the knife at her belt to cut his hands free and laughs, high and manic, before grabbing the key.

Ethan meets eyes with his fellow prisoners' and grins, chest rising and falling in a sharp breath, "We did it."

Alessia ushers him, a glow in her eyes.

He unlocks both crates, setting them free, and slices their binds as quickly as butter. The timer clicking away in his brain says they don't have long until Jeremy gets back. Abruptly, two sets of arms circle around him.

They don't squeeze until pain. Don't jab against burns with a purpose.

It's a hug.

Ethan curls into them with a hiccup of a breath.

"Erica, we gotta go! I spotted hundreds of 'em circling through-" Jeremy stops. He sees Erica. Sees the three prisoners yanking away from each other. He feels himself grabbing his gun.

Ethan jerks forward.

His ankle sends him back to the ground.

The bullet that ricochets through the cave is deafening.