It had started out small, just an inkling, a stray thought that Daryl Dixon had played host to within his mind as he stared out over the flickering fire. The camp was uneasy, the women were crying, so were the children. The men shell shocked. Nobody had seen the attack coming. The damn walkers exploding in on the camp. Daryl wasn't complaining. How could he? He loved a good massacre, enjoyed the way his crossbow bolts lodged themselves within rotten flesh. Liked the feel of skull and brain giving way as he ripped the arrows out.
He'd always been violent at home. Shooting squirrels, pestering the cows on the farm. Smashing frogs until they were mush. Execution, he had called it when Merle had caught him. Daryl sneered into the flames. Hatred and abandonment echoing within his dull blue eyes. Merle had done it on purpose. Sure they were kin but he had always known Merle would screw him over one day. And look at that. He had. Left Daryl to fend for himself, left him to deal with this group of soft idiots. If ever there was a time when he had felt betrayed it was now.
He reached down, calloused fingers teasing over the lines of his bow. This was his only ally now. He grunted as he pulled one of his arrows up and studied its tip, noting how the parallel edges were serrated. A grin spread itself over his lips and he ran a finger over one of the uncleaned sides. Daryl liked to risk his life. Just one cut and the virus would enter his body and he'd be joining the rest of his family in a matter of days. As if hypnotized by the idea he increased the pressure, watching closely. Daring the skin to break.
"Whoa!"Someone exclaimed and slim fingers pulled his hand to safety; the dirtied arrowhead sliced at the air viciously. "Are you crazy? Do you want to die? God, don't scare me like that!"
Daryl glanced up, his narrowed eyes settling on the face of none other than the resident Asian bitch. He grimaced and pulled his wrist out of Glenn's grasp as he abruptly stood. "What do you care?"He demanded, his voice low but dangerous. When Glenn didn't reply he smirked and gave him a push. "Exactly. You don't. So listen to me carefully. Fuck. Off."
Snarling to himself Daryl gathered up his crossbow and made his retreat, leaving the fire to those who were pussy enough to need the warmth. Feeling moody he unzipped his tent, kicked off his shoes and stepped inside, smiling to himself as he was greeted by the familiar scent of solitude.
These people were pests, parasites that borrowed underneath the skin and irritated one to no end. Being in their company Daryl constantly felt as though he was being bit by a continuous stream of ticks, all wanting to suck him dry then leave him to die. He snorted angrily. Just like they'd done to Merle, he recalled as he put his crossbow down, making sure she was comfortable before he himself laid down. The makeshift bed was hardly comfortable. In fact it felt more hard than plush. But it was perfect, soft enough so he could drift in and out and hard enough so that he never fully fell asleep. Daryl was always on alert, unlike all the other fruits in camp, they slept themselves silly thinking Walkers wouldn't wander up here again. They were all stupid.
Lying there he thought of Merle, wondered what his temperamental brother was doing right now. Then he thought of himself, pitied his situation, stuck with all of them. None of them cared for him. Daryl paused mid-thought- Glenn. The former pizza boy had proved himself a valuable asset to the group but did his concern earlier by the fire mean anything? No, he decided. That had just been a show of fake care.
Everyone had someone, or mostly. Glenn didn't have anyone, the rest of the group practically all had ties, friends, lovers or families. Daryl glared morbidly at his crossbow. She stared back him, her metal eyes glinting in the soft light that emitted from the fireplace not too far away.
"Don't give me that look,"he huffed and sat up, peering out through the mesh window of the tent at the fire. Only one person sat by it, trying to rub heat into lean muscle. Glenn. Daryl almost felt obliged to get up and join the other after speaking so rudely to him. Sighing he pushed his bow aside, donned his shoes and exited his tent.