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[PREVIOUSLY: Octavia crashes a meeting being held amongst Bellamy, Raven, Finn, Clarke and Monty. Suddenly, a loud commotion sounds outside the camp as Bryce staggers back through the gates with a bloody knife and a horrific message: Wells is dead].

# TRIGGER WARNING # Death, suicide, and gore are mentioned below. If these things trigger you, please do NOT continue reading.

"No-o."

At the sound of the stifled cry that escaped from Clarke's lips, I hurriedly spun around just in time to see her collapse to the floor.

Bellamy, who was right next to her, caught her in his arms before she hit the ground. He lowered her gently to the earth before cradling her head in his lap. "It's okay, Clarke," he whispered as he stroked her golden blonde hair. "We'll find out who did this, I promise."

Clarke's body was shaking with suppressed sobs and muffled hiccups were erupting from her mouth as she cried. Salted tears dripped down her cheeks and into her mouth. Her shoulders shook and her chest heaved with grief. Her eyes were tightly closed and she had her hands pressed to her temple.

"Oh my god," Finn dropped to his knees beside her. "Is - is she okay?"

Raven followed suit and knelt down beside Clarke, trying to comfort her.

By this time, a large crowd had gathered around nearby and the news of Wells' death rippled throughout the group like a tidal wave.

Upon seeing the agony that Clarke was suffering, I whirled around and snatched the knife from Bryce's grasp. Anger churned up within me as I held the blade high up in the air and yelled, "Whose knife is this?"

Only silence met my demand.

"Whose is it?" I persisted furiously.

For a moment, no one responded, then Zoe spoke up from amongst the crowd, "T-that looks like Murphy's."

"A-are you kidding me?" my jaw dropped when I heard her words.

Zoe shook her head. "No. I'm pretty sure that's his."

Nods and murmurs of agreement passed from one person to the next as they each gazed at the knife I held in my hand.

"Of course it was Murphy!" Clarke exclaimed as she struggled to a sitting position and glared up at me through tear-filled eyes. "He's always hated Wells! Even from the start! He thought Wells was a spoiled, privileged brat and that he needed to be taught a lesson!"

Hesitantly, I lowered the knife and stared at Clarke in amazement as she stood up. Fury was etched into her features and anger was flashing in her blue-grey eyes.

"Find Murphy!" she proclaimed. "And when you do, show no mercy."

A loud cheer rose up and everyone began yelling, chanting and shaking their fists.

"Clarke!" I yelped. "W-what are you doing? We're gonna have a riot on our hands!"

"I'm doing what has to be done to avenge my friend," she shot back in response as she grabbed Murphy's knife from me.

"Wait, Clarke, Murphy's an ass, sure, we all know that," I stopped her by seizing her arm before she could turn away. "B-but just because his knife was at the scene of the murder, it doesn't mean that it was him who killed Wells! Anybody could've stolen his knife and tried to set him up. Clarke, please, listen to reason, no one deserves to meet an end by mob clubbing! Not even Murphy."

"We're not going to club him," Bellamy spoke up gravely. "We're gonna hang him."

"Hang Murphy! Hang Murphy! Hang Murphy!" screams of rage echoed throughout the camp.

"BELLAMY!" I screeched.

Both Bellamy and Clarke ignored me, however, as they turned back to the raucous crowd.

As Bellamy began yelling out instructions, I grabbed Bryce's arm and escaped the packed camp by way of the side gate. As the two of us stepped out from behind the safety of the wall, I reached down and flipped out a knife from my belt.

"Take me to where you found Wells," I urged. "And hurry!"

Bryce nodded his little curly brown head vigorously before taking off through the wooded hill down towards the creek below.

Ignoring the sharp pain in my side, I sprinted after him, my knife clasped tightly in my hands and my senses on high alert.

The two of us arrived at the banks of the creek only a few moments later.

"There ..." Bryce called out, pointing to something in the water.

I squinted my eyes, straining to see as I brushed past him. A low gasp escaped me as I neared Wells' body, partially covered in the water and partially sprawled out on the sandy bank. The waves rippled around his bleeding legs, turning the transparent waters to a deep red colour. Stab wounds were clearly visible on his neck. A cracked clay water pot was sitting nearby, the rope still attached to it's handle.

I swallowed hard as I circled the body. It was awful. Absolutely awful. I had never seen something quite so gruesome. I wondered what Chancellor Jaha would be thinking if he could see us now.

"Hey, take a look at this," Bryce piped up, motioning to something near Wells' cold, still body.

I raised my eyebrows questioningly and stooped down to take a closer look. A set of small footprints were clearly outlined in the muddy marsh near Wells' head. I drew back from the scene as I contemplated what they meant.

If they were from Wells' killer, then that meant that Murphy hadn't murdered him ... The prints were too small a fit.

"W-who do you think did this?" Bryce stammered out fearfully.

I shrugged and opened my mouth to reply, but before I could do so, the stifled sound of someone crying reached my ears.

"Wait, do you hear that?" I held out my hand to shush Bryce as I listened. "Someone's here."

Making sure my knife was at the ready and that Bryce was safely behind me, I slowly made my way through the thick bushes lining the edge of the creek. Following the cries, I ventured a couple more metres before I finally stumbled upon the huddled form of Charlotte, hiding in a big patch of green-leaved thickets.

"Charlotte?" I exclaimed, sighing in relief as I dropped to my knees beside her. "C-Charlotte, honey, what's wrong?"

"Stay away!" she yelled as she swatted me away.

I jumped in surprise.

"W-what? W-why? Charlotte ..." my voice trailed off as I was struck with a sudden realisation.

The footprints that Bryce and I had seen before would've been too small to match Murphy's ... but they were the perfect size for Charlotte's.

"Y-you didn't do it, did you?" I breathed out, stumbling to my feet and staring down at her in shock.

Charlotte just squeezed her eyes tightly shut and cried all the louder.

"Charlotte," Bryce gaped at her. "They're getting ready to hang Murphy!"

"He told me too," Charlotte sobbed.

"W-who did, sweetie? Murphy?" I questioned her.

"No. Bellamy."

I gazed at her in horror. "W-what?"

"He - he gave me a knife ... he - he told me to slay my demons," she hiccuped. "So I did. I couldn't kill the chancellor so I did the next best thing; I killed his son."

I shook my head and backed away. "No Charlotte, no, tell me this is a joke."

"It's not!" she cried. "Murphy's not the murderer ... I am! I killed Wells."

Hurriedly, I spun around to face Bryce. "If they find out it was Charlotte, they'll kill her," I said. "We need to take her away from here, far, far away, somewhere safe."

Bryce stared at me dubiously. "There is no such place, Octavia. There's grounders everywhere. Where could we possibly take her?"

"I know," a deep male voice suddenly resinated from beside me.

With a yelp of fear, I spun around, holding up my knife defensively. When I saw who it was, however, I heaved a deep breath and lowered the weapon, "Finn! W-what the hell are you doing here?"

"I saw you two slip out and decided to come follow," Finn shrugged.

"Where's Raven?"

"She's fine, don't worry," Finn waved me aside. "It's Charlotte that's our main concern right now. On one of my hunting trips, I found an abandoned cave amongst a bunch of steep cliffs. She'll be safe if we hide her in there."

"What about Murphy?" Bryce demanded. "We're just gonna let him hang for something he didn't do?"

"He deserves to hang for being Murphy," I scoffed. "Look, I don't care if he dies today, but if Charlotte dies tomorrow, I'll never forgive myself. C'mon, let's ..." I paused as I turned around. "W-what? Where the hell did she go?"

Finn's sharp eyes scanned the area and suddenly, he raised his arm and pointed towards the hill above us.

Bryce and I glanced up to see Charlotte's little forlorn figure running up the slope towards camp.

"She's handing herself in!" I screamed. "Quick! Hurry! We have to stop her otherwise they'll kill her!"

"Charlotte!" Finn shouted as he sprinted after her. "Stop!"

But no matter how fast Finn ran, or how fast Bryce and I scampered up that hill, we were never going to reach Charlotte in time.

By the time we all rushed into camp, Charlotte had stopped the hanging of Murphy by proclaiming herself to be the real killer.

Someone drew an axe and cut Murphy down from where they were stringing him up in a nearby tree. Murphy retaliated to his haters by gathering a group of his own cohorts and threatening to slash Charlotte's throat.

Finn, Bryce and I formed a protective circle around her but it was no use, we were no match for the dozens of people thirsty for revenge.

They wrestled us away from Charlotte, who willingly gave herself up. They dragged her away from the camp, down to the bottom of the hill. Instead of slashing her throat as was originally suggested, one of the ringleaders spoke up and told the crowd about the cliffs that Finn had spoken of earlier.

They took Charlotte to the top of the cliffs, intent on throwing her down to her death. Finn, Bryce and I went screaming and fighting for them to stop all the way.

Before they could execute her, Charlotte begged for them to let me come and say goodbye.

Two boys, who'd been holding my struggling form back, dropped me roughly to the ground. I felt the rocks that were jutting out from the earth pierce my skin and scrape open wounds across my elbows and forearms; but I didn't care.

Sobbing and crying, I enfolded Charlotte in a tight embrace.

"If they kill you, they're gonna have to kill me too," I cried.

"No," Charlotte shook her head as she looked at me. "Don't cry for me, Octavia, I can't live with myself, not after what I did. I deserve to die." She pulled away from me and watched as I collapsed to the ground, pleading and begging for everyone to stop, to reconsider their actions.

"Goodbye, Octavia," she whispered.

Then Charlotte turned and jumped straight off the edge of the cliff!

"NOOOO!" I screamed as I grappled my way towards the edge of the rocks. I poked my head down and another cry escaped my lips as I watched Charlotte's body disappear into a thick fog that had shrouded the ground near the bottom of the towering cliffs.

"No, no, nooo!" I screamed, beating my fists into the ground. I watched as my knuckles burst and began to bleed. I felt my throat tear and become rough and raw. I felt my eyes fill with tears that stung my cheeks as they ran down my cheeks and dropped upon the earth.

My heart shattered into a million pieces that day. I would never be the same again. I would never look at any of my fellow people the same again. I would never again experience the pain and heartache that I felt when I saw Charlotte jump off of that cliff.

We were as bad and as awful and as cruel as the adults back on the Ark for we had murdered not one, but two, of our own and watched in satisfaction as they drew their dying breaths. We made them think that they were worthless and that they had no other alternative but death.

We were no different to our parents. No matter what we liked to think, we were exactly the same, all ninety-seven of us.

We were killers.

Gif: Octavia as she screams for Charlotte.

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