Chapter 39

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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

"The only words to describe this are ones I am sure you don't want me to say." 

***

"Okay Nathan, what did you do?" 

 My head flew up from the spot my eyes had been drilling holes in the ground, and I gave Clarke a perplexed look. "What do you mean? I didn't do anything!" 

 The blonde rolled her eyes, gesturing to a tightly bound Lincoln, who was thrashing against his restraints, "I meant to help him," she corrected, and my mouth dropped into an o shape. "Oh... um, well it's kinda hard to get near him without him biting your face off so-" 

 "Hey!" Octavia snapped from the corner of the room. I winced, "sorry." 

 "Forgive Nathaniel's in-sensitiveness," Phia mused, although she didn't seem to be all that sensitive herself. "But it is difficult to get near Lincoln in his current state." 

 Clarke looked awfully confused, "oh, um, okay." 

 I wracked my brain to try and remember if Clarke and Phia had actually met yet, but decided that I was too tired for that right now, and would let them figure it out themselves. "He's gone nuts," I tried to explain, waving my head in Lincoln's general direction as he roared again and strained again his bounds. "There were needle marks in his neck." 

 "Like he was drugged?" Clarke asked, and before I could answer, the chains began shaking uncontrollably. Lincoln convulsed, his limbs jerking around as he flapped around wildly. 

 "Well shit," I muttered, standing up and going to take a step forward, "he's lost way to much blood, I tried to help him, but whenever I got close enough, he would try and commit homicide." 

 "What wound?" 

Octavia hung her head, her eyes filling with guilty tears, "I shot him." 

 Apparently that is true, I think I missed that part somehow... maybe it was because he wrestling-slammed me into the ground. It made the shoulder that I had previously dislocated burn again, which probably wasn't a good sign. Clarke took another step forward, and Lincoln surged forward. 

 "Jesus, Clarke!" I cried, reached forward and grabbing her wrist, yanking her away from Lincoln. "Remember the whole 'biting your face thing?'" 

 "I need you to shine the flashlight on his neck," she said, pointing to his neck like I wouldn't know where it was. "I want to see his veins." 

 As I mentally went through all of the reasons Clarke was a psychopath, I grabbed the flashlight off of the ground, and walked closer to Lincoln, my entire body tensing, and praying that the chains would stay intact. Clarke followed close behind, examining the bright red veins that snaked up Lincoln's neck. "Maybe we could get it out of his system." She mused, brushing some hair behind her ears and bending her knees slightly so she could see better. "But I don't know if-" 

 Before she could finish her sentence, there was a loud crack as the chain ripped out of the wall, whipping forward and smacking Clarke in the head. I jumped in surprise, but before I could do anything, Lincoln's free arm lashed out and grabbed my shirt, bringing his head down and hitting me. 

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