Hi, anyone who is reading this! It has been a very long time since I've wrote fanfiction. This is also the first time I've published a possible series to this site, and my first time writing for The Walking Dead. So, I'm still figuring out how to use this site even though I read stories on here all the time.
However, I do need any possible from any readers. I'm not too sure which point of view I want to write this story in: first person or third person. As a result, I wrote the first chapter, which quickly introduces the OC character, in both perspectives. If possible, please let me know which you prefer. I keep going back and forth between the two. There are pros and cons to both sides. Any feedback is greatly appreciated. :)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything pertaining to The Walking Dead. If I did, I would not be writing this story.
First Person Point of View
The southern heat never showed mercy for people in the summer, and it was extremely true in Georgia. The sweltering heat could quickly take out the weak, but, sadly, it did not stop the vile people from adding to the body count. Then again, if that happened, I would be out of a job.
Forensic investigation, crime scene investigation, or whatever other synonyms exist requires at least one psycho and one victim. If only there was a way I could just go after the crazies with no one else getting hurt.
I ducked under the vivid crime scene tape as I entered the small home. Pulling my short, spiral curls into a ponytail, I searched for Officer Walsh. He was the one to give me a tour of the departments, and I also worked with him on my first case.
"You must be Elise Bryant."
I turned around to face an older man. Despite his age, his Georgia tan had not disappeared with his hair.
"Yes, that's me," I responded as I shook his hand.
"I'm detective Ryan Jones, the main detective here. Well, at least for a few more months or so. I'm on the countdown to retirement. Anyway, everyone just calls me Jones."
"It's nice to meet you, Jones. I guess Officer Walsh has the day off?"
Jones dismissed my formalities. "You survived your first case, so you've earned the first name basis. Yeah, he has the day off. His partner and best friend was shot last week. The man, Rick Grimes, is in a coma. Shane plans on visiting him sometime today. As you can imagine, he is taking it pretty hard."
My heart dropped a bit at the news. Even though I had not yet met Officer Grimes, I still hated to hear such news about officers and others who aid in protecting people. Sadly, it was an everyday risk on the job. "I heard an officer was shot, but I didn't get any other details."
"Nothing for you to worry about. Rick is strong man, and I think he'll pull through. Anyway, I understand you were working with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation before taking the job here?"
"Yeah. After graduating from the University of Tennessee, I slowly made my way through the ranks."
"What made you want to take the job here? Don't take it the wrong way or anything, I know you'll be a big help here and with the surrounding counties, but working with the TBI is a pretty big gig."
I smiled to let him know I wasn't offended by his question. "I don't have anything tying me down to my home state, and I was eager for a change. When I heard about the job offer, I knew it was time to close my chapter in Tennessee. Actually, a different metaphor fits better. I want a whole new life story."
Jones studied my face intently, and he decided to not ask any more about it. I was grateful for that. There's no need for me to feel haunted by one of my past cases when I am about to start a new life story.
"Now, we have some work to do," he suddenly stated. "Well, you have the worst part of it if you ask me. You're the gross, scientific side; I'm the boring law side."
I chuckled at his comment as we made our way to the kitchen. "From what I heard on the way over here, the victim in this case may make you even happier that you're retiring soon."
We stepped into the large kitchen. The female victim was sprawled out in front of the open sliding glass door.
"What the hell," Jones whispered. I believed it was safe to guess this case may be a standout for his career.
The victim's left side was partially ripped open, exposing the top half of her ribs. Dried blood tainted her ivory bones, and darkened her pink shirt. Upon closer inspection, I could see part of the woman's heart against her ribs. Her jeans were soaked with blood, and her right thigh had a gaping hole. A variety of other wounds plagued the woman's body, including deep scratches on her neck. Although the victim had not been dead for too long, insects had already made their way through the open sliding glass door for a feast.
"I guess the killer didn't want to try to neatly fillet her. Instead, the killer went for chunks," I commented after my initial look at the body.
Jones quickly glanced over at me. "You're one of those with a sense of humor aren't you?"
"Perhaps."
"It looks like some sort of animal tried to make a meal out of her after the killer took a chunk or two from her."
I studied the wound near the heart while I shook my head in response. "No. I don't think animals were involved. If so, there would be less of her here. However, that is not my department. The coroner has say over that. With the state the body is in at the moment, I don't want to disturb her too much before the coroner arrives."
I picked up the Nikon camera which was hanging around my neck to begin taking initial photos of the crime scene and body. I felt Jones's eyes on me as I set out to do my work. After snapping some photographs of the blood splatter on the wall beside the sliding glass door, I pointed it out to Jones.
"The blood splatter lines up fairly well with her wounds. It looks like she may have been against the wall. It doesn't look like she fought too much against her attacker for some reason."
As I resumed taking pictures, Jones kneeled down next to the victim's head. He studied the scratches and blood that speckled her face. I kneeled down on the other side of the victim in order to take photos of her hand before checking for defense wounds, or, hopefully, some clues beneath her long nails. As I zoomed in on her hand, I noticed her fingers slowly twitch. The only time a dead body moved on its own, from my experience, was if the person's arm fell off of her stomach or something like that. Gravity at play. Twitching, however, was a completely different story. It was impossible with a body in this shape, especially with the process of rigor mortis.
I lowered my camera as the fingers twitched again. "How is that possible?"
Before Jones could offer his opinion or try his hand at morbid humor, the victim's other hand flew to the back of Jones's head. She pulled his head down to her level as she lifted her decaying face to the crook of his neck. It happened rapidly, and there was no time for Jones or me to react. He could only scream in pain as she bit into the crook of his neck. I screamed for the officers guarding the front entrance. I couldn't move to help Jones because I had no idea what was happening or what I could do. I can handle seeing decapitated bodies and burned bodies, but what was happening now was impossible.
The two officers ran in and froze on the spot. A completely normal reaction for seeing something that was completely abnormal and horrific. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was yelling and crying out Jones's name. The victim, or whatever she was, seemed to not hear my pleas as she bit into Jones's shoulder with a low growl. One of the officers pulled me to my feet, and shoved me to the main entrance. The remaining officer did the only thing he could do. He unloaded an entire clip into that thing. She finally stopped moving after a bullet surged through her forehead.
Third Person Point of View
The southern heat never showed mercy for people in the summer, and it was very true in Georgia. The sweltering heat could quickly take out the weak, but, sadly, it did not stop the vile people from adding to the body count.
Forensic investigator Elise Bryant ducked under the vivid crime scene tape as she entered the small home. Pulling her short, spiral curls into a ponytail, she searched for the officer who gave her a tour of the departments. She also worked with him on her first case in Georgia.
Where's Officer Walsh? She wondered.
Although she was a southern woman, Georgia was not her home state. She was from Tennessee, and she earned her degree from the University of Tennessee in Knoxville. After working in Tennessee since she graduated, she was offered the opportunity to work in Georgia. With nothing tying her down in her home state, she was eager for a change. It was the perfect time to close her chapter in Tennessee. In her case, she wanted a whole new life story instead of a new chapter. She wanted to escape the haunting of one of her last cases in Tennessee. Perhaps the great state of Georgia could help with that.
"You must be Elise."
She turned around to face an older man. Despite his age, his Georgia tan did not disappear with his hair.
"Yes, that's me," she responded as she shook his hand.
"I'm detective Ryan Jones, the main detective here. Well, at least for a few more months or so. I'm on the countdown to retirement. Anyway, everyone just calls me Jones."
"It's nice to meet you, Jones. I guess Officer Walsh has the day off?"
Jones dismissed her formalities. "You survived your first case, so you've earned the first name basis. Yeah, he has the day off. His partner and best friend was shot last week. The man, Rick Grimes, is in a coma. Shane will be visiting him sometime today. As you can imagine, he is taking it pretty hard."
Elise's heart sunk a bit at the news. Even though she had not yet met the officer, she still hated to hear news about officers getting hurt, or worse, on the job. It was always disheartening to hear about bad things happening officers who only want to protect people. Sadly, it was an everyday risk on the job. "I heard an officer was shot, but I didn't get any other details."
"Nothing for you to worry about. Rick is a strong man, and I believe he will pull through. Now, we have some work to do. Well, you have the worst part of it if you ask me. You're the gross, scientific side; I'm the boring law side."
Elise chuckled at Jones's comment as she led him to the open kitchen. "From what I heard on the way over here, the victim in this case may make you even happier you're retiring soon."
The two stepped into the large kitchen. The female victim was sprawled out in front of the open sliding glass door.
"What the hell," Jones whispered. Elise believed it was safe to guess that this case would be a stand out for his career.
The victim's left side was partially ripped open, exposing the top half of her ribs. Dried blood tainted her ivory bones. Upon closer inspection, Elise could see part of the woman's heart against her ribs. Her jeans were soaked with blood, and her right leg had a gapping hole in her thigh. A variety of other wounds plagued the woman's body, including deep scratches on her neck. Although the victim had not been dead for too long, insects had already made their way in from the open door.
"I guess the killer didn't want to try and filler her. Instead, they went for chunks," Elise commented after her first look at the body.
Jones glanced at her. "You're one of those with a sense of humor aren't you?"
"Perhaps."
"It looks like some sort of animal tried to make a meal out of her after the killer took a chunk or two from her."
Elise studied the wound near the heart while shaking her head. "No. I don't think animals were involved. If so, there would be less of her here. However, that is not my department. The coroner has the say over that. With the state the body is in at the moment, I don't want to disturb the body too much before the coroner arrives."
Elise picked up the Nikon camera hanging around her neck to begin taking initial photos of the crime scene and body. Jones watched her attentively as she set out to work. After snapping some photographs of the blood spatter on the wall beside the sliding glass door, she pointed it out to Jones.
"The blood splatter lines up fairly well with her wounds. It looks like she may have been against the wall. It doesn't look like she fought much against her attacker for some reason."
As Elise resumed taking pictures, Jones kneeled down next to the victim's head. He studied the scratches and blood that speckled her face. Elise kneeled down on the other side of the body, snapping photos of the victim's hand before checking for defense wounds or, hopefully, some clues beneath her long nails. As she zoomed in on the victim's hand, she noticed the victim's fingers slowly twitch. The only time a dead body moved on its own was if the person's arm fell off of her stomach or something similar. Gravity at play. Twitching, however, was a completely different story. It was impossible with a body in this shape, especially with the process of rigor mortis.
Elise lowered her camera as the fingers twitched again. "How is that possible?"
Before Jones could offer his opinion or try his hand at morbid humor, the victim's other hand flew to the back of Jones's head. She pulled his head down to her level as she lifted her decaying face to the crook of his neck. It happened rapidly, and there was no time for Jones or Elise to react. He could only scream in pain as she bit into the crook of his neck. Elise screamed for the officers guarding the front entrance. She couldn't move to help Jones because she had no idea what was happening or what to do. She could handle viewing decapitated bodies and burned cadavers, but what was happening now was impossible.
The two officers ran in, and froze on the spot. A completely normal reaction for seeing something that was completely abnormal and horrific. She didn't realize it at the time, but Elise was yelling and crying out Jones's name. The victim, or whatever she was, seemed to not hear her pleas as she bit into Jones's shoulder with a low growl. One of the officers pulled her to her feet, and shoved her toward the main entrance. The remaining officer did the only thing he could. He unloaded an entire clip into that thing. She finally stopped moving after a bullet surged through her forehead.