A Meeting of Ghosts

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||| Part 2 |||

SKYE

















Skye was so cold.

Even the warmth of the blood sliding down her shoulder wasn't enough to comfort her. As shivers wracked through her body it sent waves and waves of pain through her and she felt like she might rather be dead.

At least it would stop the hurt.

But she didn't have the strength to pick up her knife and end it. All she could do was stare at the filthy blade as it taunted her with an unattainable promise of a merciful death.

Her eyelids fluttered.

It had been a miserable 18 years, but the past few weeks had made up for the horrors. She was just relieved that her secrets would die with her.

Her head lolled.

Skye didn't know how long it had been since Bellamy left, but the blood stiffening on her shirt suggested it had been a while.

She closed her eyes.

Then, out of nowhere, a hand harshly grabbed her chin and forced it up- two fingers pressing on her throat to feel her pulse, "Scythe!"

Her eyes shot open and widened as she made out the face of the person. Through the horrifying amounts of blood and grime coating his face she made out the long brown hair and the deeply set eyes.

"Murphy."

Her mind shrieked at her to kill him, to make him suffer for the pain he had caused Skye and Bellamy, but she couldn't move. She couldn't move.

His shoulders sank with something like relief when she spoke and he grabbed her hand, trying to heave her up, "Come on, we have to go."

The arrow didn't dislodge from where it had pinned her shoulder to the tree and she cried out as she was jostled.

The world was going foggy and she blinked several times, trying to orient herself.

Murphy seemed to realize what had happened and searched around her, yanking the knife in her hands away from her. She waited for the killing blow.

Instead she heard a snap from behind her and fell sideways when her body realized it was no longer pinned to the tree.

Before she could collide with the dirt, Murphy roughly gripped her waist and hoisted her up, "Let's go, Scythe. This is going to suck but you need to walk, I can't carry you."

There was no pity in his voice, no sugarcoating. It was almost better he was stoic.

Her eyelids drooped and she slurred, "Why are you helping me?"

He didn't answer, only threw her good arm over his shoulder, wrapped his arm around her waist, and coaxed her forward.

Skye's body was filled with pain and dizziness from blood loss. Murphy didn't pull the arrow out, only cut her free from the tree.

They stumbled along, Murphy limping from some wound in his leg. They reached the dropship, climbed into it and Skye's body gave out. She crumpled to the hard ground and even Murphy couldn't keep her upright.

Everything hurt.

"Don't shoot!" She heard distantly.

"What the hell did you do to her?"

Raven. That was Raven's voice. She was with the two people that she trusted least in the world. Skye held Bellamy's words close to her heart. She was loved. She would die loved.

Scythe || Bellamy Blake Where stories live. Discover now