Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. I wish I did though. I only own anything you don't recognize. Don't steal my OC's.
Here's the re-edited version of Chapter 1.
I swear this is the last time I going to edit Chapter 1.
I finally got off my lazy butt and got an awesome beta.
If you're new to my story welcome.
Huge fan of The Walking Dead, so I decided to create a Daryl/OC fanfiction. Also I'll only be able to post on the weekends. Unless I feel inspired enough to post on weekdays.
Please Read & Review
Fall To Pieces by Avril Lavigne
Fall To Pieces by Azalia Fox Knightling
Chapter 1: Sally's Song
"I sense there's something in the wind
That feels like tragedy's at hand
And though I'd like to stand by him
Can't shake this feeling that I have
The worst is just around the bend
And does he notice my feelings for him?
And will he see how much he means to me?
I think it's not to be
What will become of my dear friend?
Where will his actions lead us then?
Although I'd like to join the crowd
In their enthusiastic cloud
Try as I may, it doesn't last
And will we ever end up together?
no, I think not, it's never to become
For I am not the one"
-Sally's Song by Amy Lee
At some point in a person's life they had seen or heard of the bums who held signs that said It All Ends Soon or, The End Is Coming or better yet, The End Of The World is Near. The most appropriate one would have been The End Of Life As We Know It Approaches. Most people would brush off the signs and continue with their day-to-day activities, but in the dark corners of their mind they would wonder, "What if?"
What if the world had ended? Most people would automatically assume that one way or another they would have survived somehow.
It was when the dead rose up, becoming the undead. Everyone realized the end of life as they knew was it happening. It was an end to the age of laziness and technology.
Of course, most people didn't realize this until it was too late.
The government had attempted to keep it behind closed doors, in the hopes that they could control the undead before they could become a huge problem. Though perhaps if they had forewarned the public beforehand, maybe so many people wouldn't have died.
It wasn't until the press received live footage of a man who had died one day. Then the next day he got up and was chomping down on the neighbor's cat, Fluffy. Nobody knew where Walkers came from. Although, some say it's the wrath of God, others say it's a disease that mutated itself. Some fanatics even thought it was some sort of government conspiracy.
The small towns far from the big cities were the ones that survived the longest. Most of the big cities had fallen. The military had attempted to quarantine the cities and towns that held a lot of the infected.
It was ultimate test of survival and most failed.
The ones who ended up dead or as Walker food were the ones who continued to stay in populated areas or went into hiding. They ended up being overtaken by zombies. When things took a turn for the worst, many people had gone to the "safe zones" the government had created, promising food, water, and "safety." It had food. Just not for the living. The so-called "safe zones" became massive watering holes for the undead. It was when things had gotten really bad that the military received the orders to shoot down the living. Some people had even given up and a lot of mass suicides had occurred.
These were troubled times.
The ones who survived lived in a constant state of fear and worry. It was this same fear that kept a young woman from venturing out into the open.
A young brunette woman was curled up fast asleep with her two young sons in the attic of an abandoned house. They were staying in a small town that sat on the outskirts of New York City.
Her head snapped up towards a small circular window as screams and gunshots rang out. She frowned, slightly startled at the screams and gunshots although they were now a daily occurrence. Usually, they meant someone was getting eaten or shot down by the military. It wasn't the screams that had made her frown; it was the fact that they were much closer this time.
The brunette silently crept towards the boarded up window, pushing aside the thick mauve curtain, her intense blue eyes peered between the cracks and into the street below. The sight below caused her to frown sadly. A small family of three were surrounded by the undead. Their clothing hung in tatters and were mismatched, perhaps from the mad dash of grabbing belongings.
A young golden-haired girl clung to her mother in the seemingly abandoned street. She couldn't have been much older than seven years old. She wore a dirty yellow sundress, black ballerina shoes, and an old faded violet sweatshirt. The little girl's mother wore dark blue plaid shorts, a once white trench coat, a pair of old brown boots and an old magenta t-shirt that hung in tatters on her thin frame. Her brown-blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail. Both were sobbing and screaming as the group of Walkers shuffled closer towards them. However, their screaming only caused a few more Walkers to appear.
The sun shone brightly, almost mockingly, upon the small family. An elderly man around his late forties was shooting a handgun at the Walkers with a determined expression to protect the woman and child behind him. Sweat glistened down his face. Still watching from the window, the brunette woman noticed that the man kept a brave front about him. His brave front was probably a small effort to keep his family from having another reason to worry. Despite his braveness, he only managed to shoot three of them down before he ran out bullets. It was only then that his brave front fell apart, only to reveal sheer terror. Then, almost realizing that they didn't have any weapons on them, the Walkers moved in for the kill.
They first reached the man and then, the woman. The man attempted to fight off the Walkers, but the little girl's mother kept screaming for her daughter to run. A look of pure of horror crossed the small golden-haired girl's face as they killed her mother and grandfather in front of her. She stood rooted to the spot for a moment, before attempting to run away with her long blonde tresses flowing behind her. However, it was too late as she had chosen a moment too long to run. But it was that same long hair that ended up being her demise when one of the Walkers grabbed her hair.
From the attic, the brunette attempted to turn away from the window but she couldn't. She stared transfixed as the Walkers reached for the little girl, who she had heard being called Annabel by her screaming mother.
The small family screamed louder as the Walkers ripped and tore into their flesh. The last sounds from the small family were the pleas and screams for help.
She would have helped them if she didn't have her own family to care for. That, and her husband, Xander, had told her to keep herself and their children inside the attic when they could. He had made sure to take them away from their nice apartment across from Central Park and brought them to a safe place, so they could wait for him until he came back.
She was extremely worried for Xander's safety. The last time she had seen her handsome husband had been two weeks ago. He had went off on his own to find their siblings.
Suddenly, a small whimper came from behind her.
Rubbing their eyes, two small children sat upright pulling a soft, indigo blanket closer towards them. Their frightened green eyes were filled with tears that were threatening to spill.
"Mommy?" Her eldest son, Alexander softly whimpered.
Her children knew her as "Mommy," but everyone else knew her by another name. Victoria Katherine Fae, or Kat, as she preferred being called.
Alexander's eyes were full of fear and begging his mother to tell him that everything would be alright. But things were not going to be alright. Not by a long shot. Only five years old, he had already seen things that a kid should never see. It saddened her to think that only two and half weeks ago Alexander used to be so happy and carefree. Now he was much quieter than the loud, buoyant child he had once been.
Kat moved as quickly and silently as she could away from the window, allowing the curtain to fall neatly back in place. Kat pulled her two sons towards her and murmured soothing words to them. She gently stroked Alexander's soft black hair. She managed to keep her eldest son from crying, but her youngest, Lucien, sniffled into his mother's lap.
Suddenly, Kat froze.
She heard footsteps inside the house. Quickly shushing her two sons, she reached over and grabbed the baseball bat. Although, she doubted the Walkers were smart enough to get in the attic. There were worse things than Walkers, but she wasn't taking any chances.
Ever since the zombie apocalypse decided to rear it's big ugly head at the world, life changed. There were no more rules and the government was too busy attempting to kill off the undead. This made everything ripe for the picking for every looter and bandit out there. At least getting shot down by the military meant your death was quick. Being alone and a woman was a dangerous thing nowadays.
Kat knew that if it came down to it she would kill other survivors for their supplies, so that her sons didn't have to starve. She wouldn't hesitate to do so. After all, it was survival of the fittest. And, when it came to her family, she would do anything for them.
She heard the footsteps stop beneath the trapdoor that lead into the attic. Kat silently prayed to herself that whatever was there would move on. Her heart was pounding in her chest so loudly that she was afraid the intruders below would hear it. However, it seemed her prayers weren't answered as the trapdoor lowered down into the hallway.
Instead, she heard the one of the intruders climbing up the ladder.
To Be Continued
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