So, here I am with yet another story. I know that I already have two others in the works, but they're both on hold because I have a writers block for both. The idea for this one popped into my head one day when I was on my home from school a few weeks ago and I finally decided to write it. This is a Supernatural/Walking Dead crossover because they're my favorite shows and there just isn't enough crossovers in my opinion. Okay, enough of this. On with the story!

Please excuse any spelling and/or grammer errors.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own either show.

Chapter 1

There was no way he was going to give up on her. She was just a little girl who got lost in the woods. The others were slowly giving up on the chances of finding her, but there was no way in hell he was going to. He knew exactly how scary it was to get lost in the woods, and he wasn't just about to leave the little girl out there. Sure, she may have been out there for a few days already, but that wasn't going to stop him. He was determined to find that damn girl and return her to her waiting mother.

That was the same determination that was reason why Daryl now found himself in the middle of the woods with the light of day slowly fading.

Daryl huffed and tightened his grip on his crossbow that he had resting in his hands. It was late and the light was fading quicker than he had anticipated. Any smart person would know not to get caught out in the open after dark, giving the lack of visibility and the walkers were not a very good combination at all. Although, as strange as it was, Daryl hadn't encountered any walkers all day, but he knew better than to let his guard down.

Daryl had been out in the woods all day. His legs had began to hurt and he was sweaty in all the wrong places, courtesy of the hot Georgia weather. Grime had coated any exposed skin, and usually Daryl wouldn't have minded it if not for the fact that right now it did nothing but make him even more uncomfortable. Darly was about to head back for the night so he could get up early tomorrow morning to do this all again when something caught his attention. There, between the trees, just barely visible against the dying light, was the outline of a house. Daryl unconcioussly quickened his pace and headed towards the house. With the lack of walkers all day, he almost forgot to make a quick pass around the house to look for any. Sure enough, there were no walkers in sight.

Making sure he made little to no sound, he snuck towards the door of the house. The oak door lay on the floor just inside the house, obviously kicked in at some point in time. Daryl only hoped that it wasn't kicked in my someone who had possibly been chasing a little blonde haired girl as he cautiously stepped into the house. It was considerably more darker inside the abandoned house and pulled out the flashlight that was hanging from his belt. Normally he would never use a flashlight if he didn't need to, but with his ability to see so low, he really had no other choice. Clicking the flashlight on, he scanned the room carefully. The living room that he had walked into looked like a tornado had ripped through it. Furniture lay scattered and broken, pictures smashed and glass littering the ground below his feet. He also noticed a rather large splatter of dark liquid painted on the wall, and from the faint coppery smell that still lingered around, he knew exactly what it was. He only hoped that he didn't know who it was from.

The next room was just as trashed as the last one, as was all of the other rooms beyond it. Apparently there was some sort of fight that happened here, and by the looks of it, a pretty mad one. Daryl made a quick stop in the kitchen to look for any food while he was in the room, but anything that had been eatible had been taken already, only leaving rotted and moldy lumps that had possibly once been food. Once he had thoroughly checked the lower floors, with no luck, Daryl climbed the stairs. His flashlight waved back and forth in search of any danger, but it didn't pick anything up. The first few rooms on the second floor were just as destroyed as the rest of the house, which Daryl came to expect. But there was still no sign of Sophia.

Daryl had finally came to the end of the hallway, which meant the last room. If Sophia or anything of value was in the room, Daryl will be pissed the hell off. It had long since gotten dark while he was exploring the house and it would be even more dangerous to make the walk back to Herschel's farm. Holding his breath, Darly reached out and slowly turned the doorknob. The door gave away easily and opened up to reveal a dark hole that lead into the room. The first thing that Daryl noticed was not the darkness of the room, but the horrible smell that assaulted his nose. It smelt like blood, decay, rot, death, and burnt flesh all bundled up into one room. Daryl quickly grabbed the bandana that he had kept wrapped loosely around is neck and brought it up to cover his nose and mouth from the smell. Raising both his crossbow and the flashlight, Daryl slowly entered the room.

The first thing that the flashlight caught was a little table, or the remains of one. It was one of those tables that little girls would have in their rooms to have pretend tea parties at, and sure enough, there were the smashed tea party toys next to the smashed table. Daryl looked closer and thought he saw blood speckled on one of the pink table legs, but he kept moving. He carefully stepped over an overturned bookshelf and the broken knick-knacks that littered the floor, keeping as close to the wall as he could. He noticed that some parts of the walls were splattered with the same substance as the living room wall downstairs. Daryl looked away and continued to look around the room.

The bed, which once had a pink comforter on it, which was now shredded, lay overturned. The box spring had a large tear in it and the remains of the mattresse sat in the center of the room. Daryl concluded that the burnt smell most likely came from the charred mattresse, but that doesn't explain the smell of the burnt flesh or the fact that it looked like someone got into a fight with some sort of wild animal in the bedroom of a child. Daryl slowly walked over to the mattresse and raised both the crossbow and flashlight towards the mattresse as he got ready to kick it over. Using the toe of his boot, he have the husk of the mattresse a good, hard kick, sending it flying into the wall. What lay below the matresse nearly made Daryl gag.

The charred and burnt body of someone lay on the floor, which was also burnt from the fire that most likely killed the person. Daryl crouched next to the body and ran his flashlight over it more carefully. The person was tall, much taller than him or anyone else that Daryl knew. Its long limbs lay sprawled out around it, one arm bent at an odd angle and one leg totally bent behind it. As he continued to examine the body, he noticed that the person was much skinnier than any human or even walker that he had seen. Even with most of its flesh burnt off, it was easy to tell that its stomach was sunken in, making its chest stick out even more. Whatever had happened in this room, Daryl was sure that it included this poor, burned to a crisp bastard.

Daryl finally stood up and looked out the window. It was pitch black outside and Daryl sighed. Looks like he was heading back in the dark.

Daryl quickly left the house and whatever the hell happened behind him as he walked down the driveway. It was more dangerous to find his way back to the farm house in the woods, so as long as he got to the road he would be able to find his way back with ease. With no sign of any walkers, Daryl threw his crossbow back over his shoulder, but made sure that his hand was close to the knife that was strapped to his waist. The gravel of the driveway crunched beneath his feet as he walked down the long driveway. Trees loomed overhead, creating a kind of tunnel that followed the driveway. Daryl's mind kept going back to what he had found in the house. It was obvious that whatever the hell had happened was bloody, and with one of those people dead, he couldn't help but wonder what happened to the other person.

xXxXxXxX

He had gotten about a half mile away from the house and down the driveway when he smelt it. Daryl stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air again, only to find what he had first smelt really was there: Blood. The iron smell was stronger than it had been in the house, and it was close. Daryl turned his head to the left, where he could tell the smell was coming from. He slowly moved his crossbow back into his hands and turned towards the smell. One part of his brain was telling him to turn tail and haul ass away from the smell and get the hell back to the farmhouse, but the part of his brain that he normally listened to urged him to find out what the smell was coming from.

His heart began to beat wildly in his chest as he took his first step off of the driveway and into the weeds. He continued fowards, further into the woods. The smell got stronger and stronger has he adventured towards the said smell, but Daryl didn't move to cover his mouth and nose like he had before. When the smell was almost unbearable was when Daryl finally found the source. Actually, he almost stepped into it, only avoiding it at the last second by seeing the glint from the bottom of his eyes. Daryl took a step back and trailed the flashlight beam onto the pile of bones, meat, guts, and blood that sat in front of him. The smell was horrible, worse even than what was in the house. Daryl crouched down next to the bloody pile and set his crossbow down to grab his hunting knife instead. Using the blade of the knife, he moved pieces of meat around in an attempt to find any evidence that would tell him what this pile once was. With the lack of fur of any kind, Daryl started to assume the worse. Finally, he found an intact piece of skin that had a tattoo on it. The tattoo was of a sparrow, one of the most common tattoos that Daryl had seen. He himself would never get something so girlie, but he didn't judge those who did get them. Merle, on the other hand, was a totally different story.

The sound of a branch snapping pulled Daryl out of the thoughts of his brother and put him back on high alert. Shelthing his blade and picking up his crossbow, Daryl stood up and turned in a complete circle, looking for the think that made the noise. Nothing jumped out of the dark at him and his flashlight didn't catch anything lurking in the trees around him, but that didn't help put him at ease at all. Something wet and sticky suddenly landed on his head with a plop and Daryl quickly and urgently wipped at his head with a hand, sending the think falling to his feet. There, at his feet, was a piece of skin that look suspiciously familiar. Daryl suddenly tensed up and his heart beat faster as he slowly pointed his flashlight up at the trees overhead, tipping his head up also. Sitting there, staring down at him, was a tall shadow. Clawed hands gripped the thick tree branch that it was crouched on and it cocked its head to the side when it found Daryl had seen it. Although Daryl didn't have the flashlight pointed directly at it, he knew that whatever the hell it was, it diffenantly wasn't fucking human, and that thought was all that he needed to get his body back under his control.

Daryl quickly took aim at the thing and fired a bolt towards it before turning and running through the woods. He wasn't sure if he had actually hit the thing, but it hadn't jumped on him yet, so he assumed that he had surprised it enought with the bolt to be able to get a head start. He knew that he was running in the general direction of the house and he only hoped that he would get there in time. The trees overhead suddenly shook and Daryl knew that the thing had finally started its chase. Willing his burning legs to move faster, Daryl shot fowards through the trees, dodging everything that got in his way. As he ran, he had somehow managed to get his crossbow back onto his back, making it easier to run. Daryl's throat burned and when the leaves ahead of him moved, he thought that his heart would stop. The creature had made it in front of him, but stopped moving just long enough for Daryl to get passed it before it began after him again in the treetops. After it did this a few times, Daryl finally figured out what it was doing to him.

Not only was it hunting him, it was also playing with him.

Daryl felt anger rise in him, but there was nothing he could do right now unless he wanted to get himself killed and he couldn't do that seeing how he still had a little girl to find. His legs felt like jelly and he felt like he was about to fall when he was something ahead of him that gave him a burst of speed. Just ahead, through the trees, Daryl could see the lights from the Greene house. If he hadn't been running for his life, Daryl would have possibly smiled.

He broke through the line of trees and into the field that lead to the fence, and just beyond the fence, the farm and his people. Then, behind him, he heard an ear splitting skrietch, which he could only assume came from whatever was chasing him. Daryl looked over his shoulder just in time to see the creature that was chasing him jump from the trees and into the weeds that Daryl was now running through. It was obvious that the thing was no longer playing games and it was serious now, making quick work of the distance between the two of them. Daryl tried to run faster, but his legs wouldn't work any quicker and the thing was gaining speed. He was just a few short yards away from the fence and he pulled the crossbow from his back and hurled it over the fence. Daryl thought he felt something touch his ankle, but a sudden gun shot and the horrible shriek from the thing called his attention away from his ankle. Daryl felt the worn wood beneath his hands as he gripped it and slung himself over the fence. He landed rather ungracefully on the other side of the fence, but he didn't care as he scrambled away from the fence and back to his feet. He quickly turned around to look for any signs of the creature.

There, lurking in the weeds on the other side of the fence and now nursing a wounded arm, stalked the creature.

Daryl slowly backed away from the fence, and he could hear the sounds of his people calling and running towards him, but he ignored them as he continued to stare at the creature, which stared right back at him. Although his mind was racing with what had just happened to him out there, there was only one question that kept running through his mind.

Who was the one who shot that fucking thing?

Woah, first chapter of hopefully many more for this story. I hoped it was enjoyable and I'm curious as to what any of you think was chasing Daryl.