Rila: Something different, for a change. Non-specific, a little tiny thing that bit me and wouldn't leave me alone. Was going to be Halo, but something else bit me for that. :P
Disclaimer: If I owned The Walking Dead, I would have stuck closer to the comics. Shane definitely wouldn't have made it to the near end of season two. :/
Word Count: 444
Lifting the extended stock of her MP-80 to rest more comfortably against her shoulder, she cocked her head to the side and shut one eye, peering down the scope. Perched on the concrete roof of an abandoned building, she was certain that the shuffling droves of animated corpses could not see her. But she could see them, her lips pressing into a thin line as she focused upon one of them.
Skin pale green and peeling away from his mouth with clumps of coagulated blood, the corpse ambled on, unaware that what looked like his Sunday best was torn and dirty, coated in the blood of unfortunate victims. Hair that might've once been silver was thin and wispy, a testament to just how far gone this man was.
She closed her eyes. Don't think of them as people. If you do, you'll feel bad. And when you feel bad, you hesitate. And when you hesitate...
Her finger inched towards the trigger, and she braced for the recoil. The report of the gunshot echoed across what had once been a proud, thriving city, and she suppressed the shudder of fear that crawled up the back of her neck as several faces with gaping, bloodied mouths turned towards her, shuffling towards the building.
Adjusting her hold on her weapon, she lined up again, attention focusing upon a woman. Once perfectly coiffed hair hung in dirty, blood and dirt matted curls of blonde hair around an ashen face. There was a flat, incomprehensible look to dull blue eyes, and the girl swallowed thickly, beating back the emotion that swelled in her gut. She tightened her grip.
And when you hesitate...
She closed her eyes, finger inching towards the trigger. Breathing deeply, she opened her eyes and braced herself before pulling the trigger. The woman staggered back in a spray of dull red blood and bone fragments, standing there motionless before slumping to the ground.
Sinking to her knees in a more controlled fashion than the dead woman had, the girl curled herself into the cover of the low wall, bringing her knees to her chest and pressing a dirty hand to her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she choked back a ragged sob.
You die.