Read story Runaway *The 100 Fanfiction* - Prologue & Face Claims

Prologue & Face Claims

3rd Person POV

Marcus Kane knew from Kayleigh's birth she would be locked up when she could care for herself. Age 12 they told him. He chose not to tell her, figuring that's what his wife would have wanted. And he couldn't bare her reaction to such a truth. Kayleigh was homeschooled her whole life, because the council feared if her blood colour was known to the ark it would cause fear. Marcus being on the council agreed to these terms which is why Kayleigh over time will see him not as a father, but as an enemy.

A loud knock on the door of their small home disrupted their conversation. Kayleigh looked over to her father in curiosity but no expression could be read from his face before he stood to go open the door. Her curiosity grew as the guards at the door came into view. She watched as the guards and her father exchanged a nod before a look of sorrow grew evident on his face. The guards walked over to the young girl sitting in the white chair.

"Kayleigh Kane you are sentenced to the skybox for having impractical blood", the tallest guard boomed in a deep voice. Tears streamed down the child's face as she looked over to her father who mirrored her actions. Her tongue was tied as the guards clasped her forearms and walked her down the hall to the infamous skybox.

Kayleigh's POV

It had been two years since her 12th birthday, the day she was taken into solitary. And her father had not visited her even once. Her only human contact was with the guard Troy who dropped off all her meals. To keep herself sane she drew on the walls, floor or anything else she could with the art supplies troy smuggled in for her over the months. She didn't know much about the outside world, but she did know one thing for sure, she hated Marcus Kane.

Another Three years passed, it was getting harder and harder to stay sane while locked in a box alone. her walls were full of drawings and shades of all kinds. A tennis ball was gifted to her which she currently bounced against the wall at an attempt to cure her boredom. Sadly it never was truly cured. Her birthday was coming up in 3 months was it sad to say she was excited, to finally be out of the walls of the old cell, even if it meant her death was near. A clicking in her door startled her out of her focussed trance on the bouncing tennis ball, dropping it onto the floor.

"Prisoner 87 turn around and put your hands behind your back" recited a guard in a bored tone.

"No, I don't turn 18 for three months,"
she stuttered out, suddenly not being excited for her 18th birthday. She was forcefully turned around. A stinging sensation erupted on her wrist causing her to look down. To her displeasure, a metal bracelet was latched around her wrist for purposes she yet didn't know. Before she could question a subsistence was injected into her neck causing to lose consciousness almost instantly. Little did she know this fear was nothing like what was yet to come.

Face Claims