I don't own any characters or storylines from The Walking Dead, I just like to make my own additive material. Here it is, and I hope you like it! It's my first one, so please rate and review :)
In general, Molly Lipscomb wasn't very happy about her current circumstances. Surrounded by reanimated dead people didn't exactly fit her idea of a comfortable lifestyle. Having grown up in the backwoods of Georgia, she was well aware of the hardships one must to endure to live day to day, but before the "plague" it had at least been manageable. These days she didn't even sleep. All of her energy and hours were focused on keeping herself alive and as far away from danger as possible.
Her current place of residence was a tree house she had located in the hills about an hour away from Atlanta – not too close to the big city, and not so far away that she couldn't drive there as a last ditch effort to find shelter or supplies. The tree house had probably been constructed by an overachieving father that was eager to give his children distraction from the shitty environment in which they lived. She knew how it was, though – being born and raised in the redneck stretch of North Georgia desensitized to those kinds of shithole towns.
Looking down out of one of the side windows of the house, she surveyed the land with an hawk's eye. Yesterday the house was nearly ripped down by a horde of those hungry fucks, and she wasn't about to let her guard down again. She wiped sweat from her furrowed brow as she recalled how they moaned and clawed at her boots while she picked them off individually with expendable supplies such as throwing knives and a spare hatchet.
Pre-disastrous-fucking-mess-that-her-life-had-turn ed-into, Molly was a student at the University of Georgia, looking to get her degree in business. She was trying her hardest to get herself out of her redneck town and into a job where she could have a life worth living. She loved her family and wanted the best for them as well, but she just wasn't content with the small town life that they'd been so keen to settle for. At 24, she had managed to finance herself through two years of school but had to come back home to save money for more education. She scoffed at the thought.
"All that money wasted, and now the fucking world's gone to shit, too." she huffed heavily, trying to keep her thoughts at bay. When she started thinking about her life before, she started remembering her family and her friends who were no longer with her.
"Molly, I'm gon' head out back and see if they ain't any gasoline in that shed." her father spoke confidently, handing her a flashlight just in case she wanted to scavenge the house for more goods. They'd been driving for about three hours – she and her father and brother – and stopped at what seemed to be an abandoned house in the rural area surrounding Atlanta. Evening had fallen and they decided to stay at the house for the night if there were no unwanted biters hanging around.
She nodded at her dad and then clicked the flashlight on, shining it around the downstairs of the house that they'd already deemed safe. She and her brother – a national guard soldier – ventured upstairs, cautiously creaking upward to what lurked on the floor above them. As they searched, they noticed that the house looked relatively untouched – no broken glass, no blood. They let themselves fall into a brief sense of security before gathering supplies into a knapsack she kept tied on her shoulders for quick-escape situations.
As they headed downstairs, they heard a blood-curdling scream from the backyard and Molly's heart dropped. "Dad?!" she screamed as she and her brother ran outside and into the open yard. In the short distance between she and the shed, she could see two of those fucks – one with its teeth sunk into her father's arm and another chomping at the bit to get to his neck. Without thinking, she charged toward the shed, her flashlight in one hand and a crowbar in the other. Her brother, hot on her heels, wielded a gun with a homemade suppressor and shot the first biter in the head. In her rage, she whacked the other biter in the head with a dull thud, and it fell to the floor. Her brother put a bullet in its skull and they surveyed the damage to their father.
"Come on, Dad, it'll be okay." she whispered, looking at place on his arm that was missing an entire chunk of flesh. It was oozing bright red blood and was already starting to bruise a nasty purplish-brown color. He sat down against the wall of the shed and didn't dare look at the wound.
"Sis, you know better, girl. I taught you better." he spoke in a labored manner, pain tangible in his voice. Her brother stood to the side awkwardly – he knew what had to happen and was clearly trying to separate himself from the situation, as he always did.
Molly tried to hold back tears as she watched the blood clot thickly and change colors altogether. In lieu of the bright red from before, it was now a sticky marmalade-colored substance. Damn.
"Fuck, man." her brother stammered, and put a hand on his head. They had always talked about what would happen if something like this occurred, but now that it was here, it was obvious that words were a lot easier to conjure than actions would be.
"Y'all know what you have to do, now go on 'n do it!" their father barked impatiently – he had never been the sensitive type or the kind to delay what was necessary. Molly shook her head and felt tears brim in her blue eyes. She had always been a Daddy's Girl and knew that she wouldn't be able to do what she had to in this situation. She looked at her brother grimly. He didn't have to ask to know what she was trying to say.
His brown eyes locked on hers before he heaved a sigh that shouldered the weight of the world. "Get on outta here, Sis. Say your goodbyes and shit and then get on out." To anyone else this would have been insensitive, but she knew her brother never knew how to deal with matters of this magnitude and took it at face value. She looked at her Dad, who was paling and perspiring slightly.
Kneeling down beside her father, she placed a kiss on his forehead and spoke to him for the last time. "I love you, Daddy. Be good to Mama now, and tell Mamaw I said I miss her." She could barely speak, but managed to clear her throat enough to get the words out.
"I love you, Sis. It ain't no goodbye. I'll see you later."
Without looking back, Molly got up and walked out of the shed. She heard her brother mumble some unintelligible words before she heard the hammer click back.
A gunshot rang out that pierced a hole in her heart as wide as the Grand Canyon.