"For the great day of their wrath has come, and who is able to stand?"

-Revolution 6:17-

Pre Apocalypse:

White hadn't always been her color; it made her already pale skin almost look sickly, deathly to the point that many of the employee's had tried to complain to the "warden" of the ward about at least changing it to not match the sterile color that also mimicked the walls and tiles that were almost a linear reflection. However their complaints, suggestions and even silent commentaries were silenced, rejected upon leaving from their thoughts and passing from their lips. It stated clearly, the "warden" would reply almost with an automatic response, that those who were granted acceptance into the ward were sick patients that had given up their rights for their health, mentality and even realization to obediently return to them through harsh and interesting processes.

All those that had entered into the posh room would always leave with a sense of hopelessness, but their duty to help these people who either had themselves checked in or were forced for their wellbeing's needed their routine of medications, lessons, watches and the occasional eye that would check for signs of their "disease".

A tall muscular male around his mid-30's with slightly ruffled hair carried a steel tray with white paper cups each holding the designated doses that were medically prescribed by each patients therapist. This said male had smoldering cloudy orbs that always shocked one particular patient, though his smile was intoxicating she adored her talks about the real world with him. He made his rounds handing each patient in the rec-room their pills taking their cups of water and swallowing them down before repeating the process until, as usual, he finally made the last stop to her.

On the tray were two cups; one of water the other with three pills. A circular oval, a long blue and if she could recall a small crimson oval which she remembered was a vitamin while the other two were to "help" with her "delusions" and relax her body. With an annoyed glare tinting behind her azure hues, the woman snatched the water cup first feeling the cool liquid fill the entrance of her mouth before holding out her hand. As per protocol, the man handed her the small cup and she doused the pills into her mouth before quickly swallowing, jutting out the pink fleshed tongue from her mouth to show that she actually indeed swallowed what had been prescribed to her. Later though she'd empty her stomach of the pills and flush them.

Nodding as though pleased with what she did, he tucked the tray under his armpit and asked her how she was doing today. The standard break question that always irritated her before she was placed with the crazies even now still did. With a quick glance up towards his chiseled face she jousted him a glare which he chuckled to. Nevertheless, the woman would always answer. The answer never changing from its base though varying depending on her mood.

"Like the days before when you've asked the same thing. I'm doing the best I can while being locked up with the Looney Toons over there." She roughly muffled through slightly gritted chops.

His cheery expressioned face slowly diminished. With knowing eyes he sent her a pitiful glance of sorrow. It was known among the staff that she wasn't delusional, eccentric yes, but compared to those who were suicidal, had to be in solitary confinement and tried to murder the staff she was the epitome of their perfect patient. Bowing his head, he leaned closer to her sitting frame that was tucked underneath and almost swallowed by the blue excuse for a couch.

"Solara," he sighed before shaking his head. He had been planning on asking her just why exactly why she was placed in the facility when one of their lurid patients, Ronald, a man in his 60's started chucking his bag of pretzels and grabbing other patients snacks. His loud roars of the voices telling him to end it all to Solara seemed almost comical. Though she knew that the man was still in the processes of grieving over his lost wife.

"Bet you a pack of smokes in about 30 seconds he's going to go for the lamps and chuck it at someone," Solara cheerfully taunted the male whose darkened clouded pools flickered over to Ronald who had been nearing himself closer to the side desk that indeed held two lamps that could be unplugged from the electrical sockets and used as his personal homing missiles.

The drug-dealer as she liked to mentally call him turned from her dropping the tray beside her took off towards Ronald and alerted the others. Ronald continued his ramblings with the air muttering and shaking his head in displeasure from perhaps whatever his mind had been conjuring conversations with and as another patient, a fairly new one Solara might add, one who she didn't get her name crossed his path towards the writing desk it was then that all hell was beginning to break loose.

Ronald lunged at the woman just as Mr. Drug-dealer reached him and before Ronald could scratch off her beautiful face clean from her skull the others started to encircle the thrashing and fighting old man. His yells for Dorothy, his deceased wife who he would claim was telling him to do these things, never once responded to his calls. His beloved deceased wife never comes running to his aide. How could she? She was a pile of 120 pounds of rotting flesh and decaying bone entrapped in a coffin 12 feet underground while the earth started to swallow her.

Solara felt for Ronald. Her heart always felt as though it was breaking because of his never-dying devotion to his wife; the love that the two perhaps shared was probably a fairytale like the Notebook. To see such a love deteriorate was devastating. Thankfully though it didn't last when a nurse pulled out a syringe from her pocket and shoved it into Ronald's thigh. Moments later his body started to lose the fight it once hand, his once barks for his wife became slurred pleas for her to come see him.

She wondered if Ronald would ever be granted the peace to be with his wife again. For now though, her sense of entertainment that outscored All my children came to a quickened end, ironically like the show itself.

Her eyes leered towards the tray that was beside her feet and deciding to not cause trouble for the hope of getting a pack of smokes, she rested her head on her enclosed fist. His footsteps caused her to lift an eye and his smile was one of shock.

"How do you do that, Solara?" He muttered under his breath, mostly to himself though Solara thought it'd be rude to deny him an answer. One that wasn't "The dead told me" or "It was déjà vu"

"Body language." She stated in complete boredom.

Nodding, he picked up the potential weapon and stated that she'd be getting her smokes in the usual place in her room before taking his leave. The next batch of crazies couldn't be denied their drugs which meant for Solara she'd go to the bathroom and lurch the pills up before she started to feel funny and numb.

Another nurse, one just about the same height as she grazed across the floor towards her direction and Solara wanted to groan aloud, never stopping and walking to the bathroom.

"Solara, you have a visitor." She stated with no emotion. Her name tag printed out the name "Margot" and Solara blinked wondering if it was pronounced Mar-go or Mag-ot.

"I'll be right there, I have to pee," she quickly blabbered out which the nurse nodded leaving her to go puke up her intestines and flushing the toilet. And like a good poster child she washed her hands under the water and took some of the soap diluting it with the water and shuffled it into her mouth pretending that the disgusting disinfectant was Listerine before spitting it out and making it her way towards her only visitor in 2 months.

Yay, the dragon from the pits of hell is here! she mentally prepped herself to meet with the demon that forced her into a cartoon world; a hippies paradise.

Opening the door, she walked into the visitor's room, her eyes squinting due to the over-induced light source of opened blinds. A shadow almost met her feet from the person standing by the windows. The blondes lightly curled hair was elegantly placed in a ponytail that caught the lights rays. Light beige pants which Solara could only assume were designer brought the appearance that her legs were longer than they were by the accompany of black Louboutins. As the woman turned to face her, the matching Aquatic blues flickered upon the gown she was forced to wear.

Wincing with absolute disgust, the woman sat down and offered her the chair across from her with a peachy smile. The days of hugging like long lost family was thrown out the window. Maybe she knew that if she pressed her preppy fake plastic body against hers that she'd have her ass handed to her.

"Sol! My goodness it's so good to see you. It's been months you know! I see that you became a slob while you were on vacation here," she continued to babble as though the entire universe revolved around her. Which apparently in her mind it did.

Anger flushed out from her pores and the tiny demons on her shoulders pestered her to just slap the life from her older sibling. The queen of hell that threw her to the wolves, who placed her in this mental institution and pretended that it was a place for those to get help. A rehab as her sister kept telling herself.

She had to keep her cool though if she wanted to prove to the board and to the others here that she was doing fine so that she could be released soon. A bad feeling kept creeping its way into her subconscious with horrid dreams and this nauseous feeling that she pushed away to deal with herself.

It's now or never Solara hushed to herself straining her muscles to form into a smile.

"I know it's been far too long hasn't it sis! You know I can't help what these people put me in. They say it's to keep the Toons from hanging their heads on the pipes in their rooms. Maybe if you make a request they might listen." Solara half-ass kissed her sister trying to keep her temper from hitting the danger mark.

Her twin's face contorted into absolute dismay a dainty hand lifting from its once perfect stance on her thigh up to cover her lips, softly gasping.

"Oh that's horrible! They didn't tell me that you were suicidal!"

Solara wanted to growl and ring her fingers around her sister and slap some common sense into her which was probably what Ailey wanted her to do.

Deciding to change the subject, Solara asked about how their father was doing. Ailey frowned and rolled her eyes. Never would Ailey understand why their father ostracized her from shaming not just him but the family name by authorizing Solara's institution. Her piercing glare caused Ailey to sigh and decide to tell her twin the truth. There wasn't any fun in torturing her anymore.

"He's pissed. At me. Like always, you know how that is. He wants me to come get you and bring you home so I'm doing that. I just have to sign the papers and we can go home."

She knew that her father would be pissed, though that word would probably be an understatement for the fact that their house might be in complete shambles by him throwing and shooting anything in sight that would ease his frustration with his eldest child.

Solara knew that their father had more adoration for Solara than Ailey for the fact that he treated her like the son he and his wife couldn't have. And Solara was glad to be able to spend time with her father.

The anger that had been close to erupting ended its willful fight in a quickened second. For the first time in a couple months, Solara was actually happy. She'd be able to sleep in her bed, eat real food not anything processed and cheap and be able to go hunting before the season made it inapplicable for her and her father to do so.

No words of thanks ever dared pass her lips though. She'd never be able to forgive her sibling and she just nodded taking it upon herself to leave the room to gather her hopefully smokes and books that she was allowed to have.

It never passed her thoughts though when the screaming and chaos erupted the room and hallways. It would never cross her mind that the doors of hell had unleashed something terrible upon humanity. Red lights flashed above and everything seemed to go on lockdown. Grabbing her bags she ran through the halls, changing into a pair of denim and a black tank with a pair of trainers she tried to make it through the front doors.

In the glass she could see her sister's frightened face, looking back at her and the door as though contemplating. Solara screamed banging the doors, begging for them to open and for her sister to not leave her. Her words though never made it to her when her sister ran to the door placed her hand on the glass, their two hands perfectly forming against the barrier before she kissed the glass mouthing she loved her and took off.

Authors Note: Okay well this is just a Pre-Chapter you can say which shows some history about our characters that'll be in the series that I'm typing up for you all.

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Curious though if you think it's going to be to your liking. It's in the Walking Dead fandom and if I get good reviews I'll be keeping it as realistic as I possibly can. So I hope you guys like it, give me some feedback on if you like it, hate it, think something was missing. Oh and I'll probably need a Beta so if any of you wonderful people are interested hit me up.

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And I'll post on my page a playlist for the fic that you guys should listen to. ^-^

Note: This will be a Daryl/OC and Shane/OC but it'll be later. This will be told from Solara's eyes (3rd person though)

Love always,

Bloodrope