Several days had past since I last saw a person. A living person.
It wasn't exactly comforting to know that the closest thing that resembled being anything near a person was the one that was currently banging at the door to my once safe hideout. It was hungry, and I wasn't sure how long that door was going to provide a barrier between me and the thing.
I calmly checked my pistol, my reliable Python, to see how many bullets I had left. Would it be smarter to shoot it or myself?
Three in the chamber. I had maybe five or six in my pocket, and a box of them lay in a pocket off the side of my bag. I could open the door and wait behind it until the thing staggered in, possibly taking it out with my knife if it was just him. If there were more than three, I'd either shoot them, or give them something to eat. I mean, I had to face it, things were looking bleak for me ever since I left them and decided I would go on by myself. I was better off that way. I work better alone. But the fact that I always had to sleep with one eye open and watch my own back wore me down. I had to make short runs, quickly in, quickly out. Small loads only. Since I was only one person, I didn't need a big amount of supplies, but constantly running back and forth had it's affect on a girl. It had me wondering why I was even trying anymore.
Suddenly, the banging stopped and I was left with the brief silence, curled up in the corner of the room, until a shriek ripped through the house and broke the moment of serenity. This was my chance. I gathered up, quickly and quietly, and opened the annoyingly creaky door. I paused and silenced any breath, hoping that the shape of the old cottage hadn't attracted any attention to my visitor. It hadn't of course, because the sobbing and screaming still echoed down the hall. I had to go that way to get out. With a long exhale and stepped out of the room and in to the darkened corridor, chopping axe in hand. I wouldn't have minded that the assumed alive person was here, it was the constant screams that seemed to dart around the room ahead of me that annoyed me. Though, I had to admit, it helped a considerable amount as it distracted any monster from my own presence. But as I rounded the corner, a good four step towards the door, towards safety, the shrieking hitched and a voice called out.
"Help me!" it cried. It was small and terrified and I knew if I turned around it would mean that my using the poor victim to escape would come to an end. And, stupid me, I did it. My eyes wandered and found the thing clawing up, and at the top of the cabinet was a small girl, no more than twelve years old, her screaming now a pathetic sob as she had found her possible saviour. I considered the scene; the thing hadn't noticed me quite yet, although the girl was staring me down with watery eyes. It'd be terrible if I just left now; I wouldn't be able to live with myself, and as I was already having issues with living with myself, I figured this could drive me over the edge. After quickly sizing up the situation, I took the few short bounds it took to wedge the axe carefully into the back of the monsters skull, then yanking my weapon out and repeating the action a second time just to make sure, and the thing fell to the floor. I'd become immune to the gross crunch that a rotting skull would make long ago, and it seemed that its decaying stench had embedded itself into my nostrils. I almost sighed and turned on my heel to leave before the soft sobs were heard again. Raising my eyes to hers, I could see that she had her face hidden in her hands and worried that the small girl might have been hurt in my hesitation, but I gathered from the fact that I saw no blood that the cried were solely because she was frightened.
"Hey," I whispered, the sound of my own voice startling me. It had been awhile since I had spoken. She continued sobbing nonetheless. I sighed and heaved myself up on to the counter, which the cabinet was set beside; the same way this girl probably got up there in the first place. "Are you hurt?" I asked. A cold question to ask such a scared, young girl, but I had to be sure. After several sniffles and hiccups, she removed her hands from her face to reveal no signs of injury. I smiled softly when she shook her head. "That was a close one. Come on down," I said softly, hoping to relax the young girl. Her eyes tore from mine and moved to the floor, and I had to take a look. As if I had forgotten that it was there. "It's dead. Don't worry."
"Dead dead?" she asked sheepishly, in which I chuckled at and nodded. I was surprised when she quickly clambered down and all but jumped into an embrace. Her thin arms were wrapped tightly around me as her head was turned, no doubt, at the dead body on the floor. A soft and terrified "thank you" left her small mouth before she backed away from me. I changed my stance awkwardly, trying not to keep my eyes on her for too long. The girl was so young, so small, yet I had enough insecurities that I had to be awkward around a girl that was over ten years younger than I was.
"Are you hungry?" I asked suddenly, and the prospect of food brightened up her face. The question had been lingering, but I decided I would wait until she was calmed down to ask her. Why was she out here on her own?
AN: I DON'T KNOW WHY BUT I STARTED A NEW ONE AND I DELETED "CHANCING THE DEAD" AND I REALLY HOPE ANYONE WHO WAS READING IT IS OKAY WITH THAT. Harper kinda died on me. Her character was kinda meh. I had a long story for her, but I kept on hitting a bump that I couldn't get over so I quit. Not to say that this will be any different, but hopefully I can find more character in this one and great a better storyline. A lot of this story will be inspired by Harper's intended one, but like I said, she kinda fell flat.
I'm going to be doing a lot of weird time switches? What I mean by that, is that certain deaths and certain events will happen sooner or happen later than they did in the show/comic. Yes, this will be a mixture of the two, but a lot settles on the show, like appearances and events. Hope that's okay! If it's not, suck it up. It's a fiction, my friend.
Like I said, I'm hoping to have a better character in this story. I might take it nice and slow to cover a lot of things about this character, though I hate taking things slow. I'm also gonna be open to more critique on this one.