You know…When you first found me, I was really lost. In more ways than one.
Feeling alone in a crowd wasn't an uncommon occurrence in the old world, or this new, dead one. It wasn't strange to feel like you were the last one, because you ran the risk of actually being the last one still breathing. It was all like a dream… or at least one of those bad B movies that Chandler Weisel made his obese daughter and wife, Leigh and Bonnie Weisel, on the occasional Saturday night that they were all home. One day, the family of three blondes had spent watching crappy zombie movies together, and the next…Well, this…Their home, large and lavish, was abandoned, but not a speck of blood was found in their massive Georgia mansion, except for on one person: A small, brown haired female.
The thin girl standing at only 4'9 and maybe sixteen years of age walked around, her skinny fingers wrapped around the hilt of a small, but viciously sharp dagger that she held up, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Her hair was long, reaching down to her lower back in a long braid that was held together with a yellow tie. It was impractical…but she couldn't part with her hair…She loved it too much. She slipped around edges skillfully, and every time she turned, she flashed some more of her vicious arsenal of weaponry.
Strapped to her body were guns and knives of all sorts. Two pistols were strapped by belts on her hips and positioned for easy access. On her belt were six throwing knives, red ones that looked as if they had just been bought, though they had been used multiple times. Her legs, clad in dark jeans, had guns strapped tight to each thigh, and inside of her thick combat boots were two, small knives that could be used to kill if she was caught in a sticky situation. A kitchen knife, one of those multi use ones, hung off each side, sheathed in their dark, metal carrying cases so that they wouldn't cut her, but could be pulled out with ease. Lastly, there was her heavy hitter: her shotgun she had lovingly named Percy. It wasn't particularly fancy, but it did the job well enough. Her supplies along with a few more weapons were in the worn army shoulder bag that she had pilfered from a soldier on the ground just moments before entering the mansion.
A girl didn't get by without a bit of brains and a small arsenal on her body.
The summer heat didn't relent as she surveyed the area, her pale skin sweating liberally and washing the dried blood off of her dirty skin and onto her green tank top. Her boots thumped softly on the wooden steps that sprawled up onto the second floor that was jus as expensive looking as the bottom…it was untouched in here…As if there wasn't dead people shambling just outside the door. The girl parted her pink, cracked lips and sighed. "If only…" Her voice was young, but held an unexpected southern twang to it as she drawled softly, continuing her ascent. The brunette turned to the side and continued down the unexplainably white washed halls, the honey oak getting dirtied under her mud caked boots. At the end of the hall was a door, and on it hung a name painted on a small sign, and she cocked her small head in confusion as she tried to read it. "Leigh" it spelled out, followed by flowers and birds on the pretty pink plaque that adorned the white door. "Hm…" She hummed out as she opened the door with one hand, the other held up with her knife still.
The room was empty, but untouched…Everything still seemed to be in place except for a few things that got knocked over with the window being opened, and a bit of weathering for the same reason…otherwise, it was like some sort of shrine to the girl who used to live in there. The girl sighed once more and walked over to the white side table next to the bed and gently picked up a frame that caught her eye. In the picture was a whole family: the two parents, and three kids. One was an older male, one that looked to be going through his teen angst stage though he looked to be in his early twenties. His blonde hair was in a scene style, not too long, but not too short, as it was still peeking out ffrom under his red and black striped beanie. In the middle of the portrait was a blonde girl, fat and short, but still lovely in her own way. Her blonde hair was cut into a short style, but it fell in waves around her round face, and her brown eyes were staring at the camera, a soft smile was set onto her pretty face. Her parents above her, both blonde, were smiling proudly at her and her sibling, who bore a striking resemblance to their parents in every way. But…there was one more…
On the side, the girl stared at herself in the picture. She was cleaned up, and her long brown hair was down fully and cascaded over her shoulders in a neat style. She was positively dark compared to the fairness of the family next to her. She stared for a moment, before breaking the glass frame and pulling out the photo and tucking it away in her back pocket for the time being. "It's okay, Leigh… Imma find you and ya family. But…" She smirked a bit, her teeth not as white as they were in the picture, but still clean thanks to the toothbrush and toothpaste she had pilfered from a store nearby. "I'm gonna use tha' bed of yours for a moment. I'm pretty tired…"
With a happy hop, the girl landed on the clean pink sheets, almost immediately dirtying them up. Her hand reached to the drawer and opened it lazily, snatching out the candies that were hidden inside of it. "Ah, ya fat bitch," she cooed as she took the sweets from within and deposited it into her neatly organized bag, "Ya told me ya ran out last time."
After quickly taking everything she needed, the girl then snatched up a piece of jewelry and held it out in front of her eyes, staring at it in an almost trance like state…It was gold…nearly pure gold. 24 karat was it? Hell…it had to be less than that, but it was still beautiful. The heart shaped locket was tiny, not more than an inch and a half big, and she never figured out how to open that damned thing…Leigh never told her. "Shit girl…" She hissed as she stuck it in her mouth and bit softly, trying to pry it open. "Wha' the fuck is in here?" After a moment, the brunette gave another sigh and placed the gold chain around her neck. "Fine fine…Imma keep it 'til I find you, then you can open it, dumb bitch-"
The door creaked open and before a breath could be drawn, her hand had already gone to her belt and ripped out her pistol. With the safety off, the girl stared down the man that had come into the room. He too had his gun up and pointed at her face and both of them stared down each other without wavering. The air was tight and horribly dense, and neither took a breath.
"…Are you bit?" He spoke calmly, as if it was his job.
"Nah," She answered just as cooly, not wavering in the slightest. She seemed not to care that a gun was in her face. "You?"
"No…" He slowly moved his gun away and replaced it in its holster. "Would you put your gun away?"
"Don' see why not…" She sighed and replaced it, but behind her body was her knife that she had hidden before she knew he was in the house with her. "Whatcha doin' here?"
"I could ask you the same thing…We're looking for food."
"My sister- well…Actually it was my cousin but we were close enough to be sisters, and we looked kind of alike except for the weight. She was a fatty, you know? Size eighteen was it? Must've been bigger… Anyway, she was a big girl." She gave a chuckle and looked straight at him. "That food? Ya going to have to share with me. I won't take a lot, promise. It's jus' me anyway. All the stuff I like is here, and I stayed here a lot so…"
"You can stay with us." The man offered, more relaxed than before. She didn't seem aggressive. Harsh, maybe, but not hostile. Perhaps she could be helpful, and staying on her own must have been difficult, especially for a girl like her. "You just have to answer three questions."
"Mmmhm…You're going to have to answer my questions too."
"Fair enough-"
She cut him off ungracefully. "How many others?"
He frowned, not liking her question. "A couple…How many walkers have you killed?"
She gave a cackle at this. "Ha! Ya think I keep count?" The youngster chortled and purred as if he asked her for something silly. "Well…Well over a hundred…But who hasn't? They come at me, and I kill them." She let the silence linger for a moment before asking her own question once more. "You trust these people?"
"I do…They're good people. Have you killed anyone living?"
"Yah." He opened his mouth to ask his final question, now alarmed at the idea that she may be dangerous, but she raised her hand. "Ma turn, and ma last question…Can I leave if I wanna? No one will hold me back or try to keep me a prisoner?"
"If that's what you want, I see no reason why not…Why did you kill that person?"
"They were bit and didn' wanna turn, so I shot 'em in the head. Nothing brutal, or cold hearted…Jeeze you think that badly of me?" She gave a soft chuckle and sat up, staring at him. "Alright…if ya'll have me, I'll come and pull my share of work…It's getting' a lil' lonely out here all by maself." She gave another chortle, a elated one that still held an undertone of her callous self. He gave a sigh and rubbed his forehead. Damn that sense of justice…Leaving a young girl wasn't what he wanted to do, even if she was a little quirky.
"Rick Grimes…You are?"
"Rebecca Adler, sir. It's a pleasure."
I can't say I'm any less lost than I was then…but I'm lost with some friends. That's better than nothing, right?
Warning! This story will have many types of triggers!
I do not own TWD or any of its characters or plots.