This is a one shot written for EnglishPoet18's fear challenge. We were told to take a character from any fandom and write them into a situation that was meant to scare them. I hope I succeeded in that, in some way. This is clearly AU for The Walking Dead and set around Daryl and a very distinct idea and a partial depiction of something I wanted put him in etc... Enjoy, would love to know what you think. Happy New Years.
The thickness of the woods had grown more prominent as he'd moved silently through them like a wraith. The woods and nature - the outdoors had always called to a place deep in him and he'd felt a calm like nothing else in his life while out surrounded by the world untouched. A world unscarred and harmed by that of humanity and everything it had to give.
Moving deeper and losing himself in more than just the hunt but the fresh air and feeling that came with being out here, time went on. He'd needed a break from everything and Merle had pushed him to take off that day instead of coming into the garage. He'd made sure that he'd had nothing coming before he'd taken off and he was glad he did, he felt settled. Moving constantly - always deeper Daryl slipped through the woods disturbing the fog that was settled along the fallen leaves, tree limbs, and tree that were over run with moss and new life. Dampness and cold dew were gathered along the leaves as they turned in time for the oncoming storm.
Daryl cut his eyes to the sky seeking the time and watched the clouds through the canopy. Hours had passed since he'd came out here, more than he had realized. Hitting it at just shy of four in the morning it was now pushing seven in the evening. Daryl turned looking around him and searched the area around him. The woods were still, unmoving. Crouching low and listening Daryl searched for any sound, anything to let him know why the woods were so silent. It was eerie feeling that comes with such silence and absence of life -and nothing he'd seen competed with that of a dead woods.
Years of hunting had taught him more than a few things when it came to the woods and the way they sounded. The things they could tell you. Eyes constantly moving he searched for any movement - anything at all. Nothing was there. Nothing was moving.
A loud crack of thunder rocked through the woods the leaves waving as the air shifted and crackled with electricity of the storm. The sky darkened seconds before the storm started dumping bucket of rain onto him. Wind picking up and thunder crashing above him - woods lighting up with the clash of lightning around him Daryl stood moving quickly.
Rain dropping through the veil of the trees crashing down along his skin cold as ice to drop into the fog settling along his feet. Fog disturbed by the the rain as it stirred the air around it reached and moved along the forest floor around his feet almost clinging to him. Daryl picked his pace up shadows of lightning flashing all around him hiding through the thickets. Searching around him nothing looked familiar as the woods closed in and night darkened to woods to a near pitch black. Growling to himself at allowing himself to get this far out without realizing it he moved quicker hoping to find something to get him out of the storm. Moving through the increasingly intense foliage Daryl scowled at having lost his bearings and the stupidness of it. He was an experienced hunter and outdoors man and should have been paying better attention.
Where the fuck is your had at? He berated himself.
Crashing out of the brush Daryl came to a stop seeing a small cabin ahead of him. It couldn't be much more than a room, maybe two if that. Walking steadily towards it his eyes looking for any sign of people he stepped up on to the ramshackle porch and knocked. Calling out and getting no reply Daryl pushed the door open.
Creak and a groan as he stepped through the door were his only greetings from the cabin. No one was there. Shutting the door behind him to block out the wind Daryl's eyes went around him and he stiffened. So many, so many of them.
Who the fuck would have these? He questioned to himself.
It looked like no one had been here in a while. Daryl's eyes lifted to the dozens and dozens of portraits hanging on the walls. He didn't look for long. They were setting him on edge and he didn't like it.
Taking a seat on the one bed that was there in the open layout of the small cabin and again his eyes went to the portraits. They were done in incredible detail showcasing a talent Daryl hadn't seen in much of anything really. Not to say he was some artsy fuck but even he knew talent when he seen it. Shifting his eyes lifted again feeling eyes on him and tensed without question it was as if every set of eyes in those portraits were looking down on him. Features twisted into looks of hatred and agony - adrenaline picking up he looked around the cabin again. Growing increasingly uncomfortable as the storm raged outside the cabin Daryl's eyes went between the dozens and dozens angry faces. Deep dark eyes glowering back at him in looks that were reaching out at him in a silent coldness that was threatening to wrap around him.
With a concentrated effort he flopped down on the bed ignoring the portraits deciding to explain his reason for being here in the morning if an owner showed up. His body was tired and his head was hurting as sleep called to him. Feeling eyes still on him he shifted on the bed old spring mattress creaking below him and a musty old smell meeting his nose. Turning to face to wall to keep himself from looking at the portraits he closed his eyes and let the night and storm call him to sleep.
Face down in an unfamiliar bed Daryl groaned stretching slightly as dusty clotted sunlight filtered through hitting his eyes lids. Swinging his legs around and rubbing his face trying to get himself together enough to head out Daryl lifted his head. Entire body locking in place as ice raced through his body. Staring into the sunlight Daryl stood looking at the dozens and dozens of windows, there were no portraits.