❛𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒊❜
or
where anastasia atwood goes, trouble follows closely. . . but so does he.
fem!oc x john murphy
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WELLS HAD YET TO WAKE.
Somehow, there were more pressing concerns haunting Stas.
"Bring out the girl, Bellamy!" Murphy shouts, voice still raspy from the damage to his throat. Bellamy, Clarke, and Finn were concealed by a tent with Charlotte—the thirteen-year-old from hell.
Stas anxiously picks at her fingernails while sitting on a log, far enough away from the crowd to be uninvolved but close enough to listen to the escalating situation. Octavia and Jasper were beside her.
"This is insane," Octavia whispers, "She's a kid."
Stas can't help but scoff.
"She slit Wells' throat. I bet he even greeted her. Talked to her. Knowing him, probably with a smile. And then she slit his throat."
She surprises herself at how cruel she sounds. She doesn't want to be heartless, but without Wells, she has nothing to love.
And with nothing to love, there's no reason for a heart.
"Come on, you don't mean that," Octavia tries to reason with her.
Murphy continues to shout for the girl to be brought out.
Stas doesn't respond. Instead, she walks over toward the crowd, nearing the front.
Octavia and Jasper follow her.
Murphy doesn't look over as Bellamy exits the tent.
"Well, well, well. Look who decided to join us," Murphy approaches him with a cold glare.
"Dial it down and back off," Bellamy demands.
"Or what? What are you gonna do? Hang me?"
Stas grimaces at the memory.
"I was just giving the people what they wanted."
"Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea. Why don't we do that right now?" Murphy turns to the crowd. "So who here wants to see the real murderer hung up? All in favor?"
A handful of teens raise their hands.
John's eyes skim the crowd, landing on Stas for a moment. She doesn't raise her hand.
"I see. . . so it's okay to string me up for nothing, but when this little bitch confesses you want to let her walk?" He screams at the crowd. "Cowards! All of you are cowards!"
