Hey everyone. I know I took all my stuff down, but before I moved everything to another site I had proposed a writing challenge to a group I belong to. The challenge was to take a character of your choosing and place them in a fearful situation. The deadline is tomorrow so I'm cutting it close, but I did it. I'm posting it here because this is where it needs to be to be inserted into the community group. I won't be posting anything else here. Thanks for reading and enjoy. :)
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They say that you never really know what you have until it's gone...for Merle Dixon, no truer words had ever been spoken.
The day that Merle Dixon died was also the day that he was born. In a way, he knew that he would die that day, but he also knew that deep down his brother would live. Because if Merle cared for nothing else in this God forsaken world, it was his brother. Since the day Daryl Dixon had been born unto this world he had been a pain in Merle's ass. But the fact of the matter was that Daryl was Merle's brother, his flesh and blood, and he had stood by Merle when everyone else had fallen to the wayside. So even though Daryl had been a pain and sometimes a downright asshole, Merle had always forgiven him. Unfortunately for Merle, Daryl hadn't always been as forgiving when his brother had done something equally as stupid.
And Merle had done a lot of stupid shit... tons of it in fact. His life had been like a train wreck that couldn't be stopped once it was set in motion. It had just happened without rhyme or reason and Merle had hung along for the ride.
Until one day things changed for him.
The world had gone to shit, he had lost an arm, and pretty much everyone still alive on earth hated his guts with the exception of his brother. And at that point in his life, Merle wasn't so sure that Daryl wasn't starting to hate him just a little bit. He saw for the briefest moment in time what the others in the prison saw in him: a monster. There was no sense in sugarcoating it.
Merle Dixon wasn't a good man, but he didn't necessarily believe that he was a bad one either. There was still good in him, you just had to dig down deeper to see it. He had spent a lot of time burying that good to survive and get ahead in life so it was a bastard to bring to light.
But for all the things that lived and festered inside of Merle, it was the bad that ultimately saved their asses. He knew they were all destined to die by the hands of the Governor...he knew it like he knew that the dead were rising from the pits of hell to roam the earth. He also knew that his brother wouldn't leave that stupid prison, not without the people that were camping out inside of it. There were lots of things that Merle knew that people didn't give him credit for, but the thing that scared him most was knowing that his brother was going to die. He was going to die by the hands of a man who had done more evil in this world than Merle Dixon had ever even thought of doing.
But not that day. That day Merle decided that he was going to set things right. He was going to sneak up on the Governor and take him down. He was going to do it for his brother. Ironically, the day that Merle Dixon decided to put the good of others before himself was the day that he died.
He gave it all he had, but sadly it just wasn't enough. And one of his last thoughts before he breathed his final breath was that maybe this was his punishment for being so hard in life. Maybe people didn't get second, third, and even fourth chances. God only knew how many Merle had already spent doing the shit he had done in his life.
He had thought that dying would be one of those things that just happened...that when you finally went, your body was just gone, ceased to exist even. However, for Merle Dixon that hadn't been the case at all. He had felt the pain of the blows he had been dealt...felt the suffocation of his lungs as they struggled to take just one more breath.
There had been a space of a moment that he couldn't remember. He knew something had been there, but he just couldn't recall what. Then there had been a flicker of light, just a beacon before he had opened his eyes again. Looking down and seeing his body lying on that floor had driven home the truth.
He was dead, but he wasn't. Somehow, the notion of still being able to see everything happening before him, but not being able to do anything only served to scare the shit out of him. He stood there for an immeasurable amount of time, gunshots and chaos ensuing all around him. And then, his body reanimated and he followed along behind himself, his feet seeming to guide themselves of their own accord.
His beaten corpse sauntered from body to body, taking its pick like it was at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Merle cringed as he feasted on the flesh of people he had once known. He supposed that he deserved this in a way. He couldn't just die and cease to exist...that would have been too easy. No, he died and then had to suffer through watching himself become a walker...the very things that he detested.
"The fuck do you want from me!" He yelled out, but the words didn't sound the same and he doubted that if anyone were alive that they would be able to hear him.
And then...his brother was there. Merle looked across the field in time to see Daryl stalking across, his eyes trained everywhere at once for threats. Merle knew then...he knew as sure as his body was on that cold hard ground eating a man's flesh that Daryl was going to spot him.
And he did.
Merle felt the kick to his gut as his brother's eyes almost seemed to connect right to his, almost as if he were still there. He watched in horror as his walker corpse lifted from its feast and began to study Daryl with interest. An expression of horror never before experienced flitted across Merle's face as he watched Daryl begin to break.
"Fuuuucccckkkk!" Merle internally screamed, rage and fear pouring from his very soul.
He watched with helpless eyes and body as his walker self meandered towards his brother, his own flesh and blood, and attempted to eat him. Daryl shoved his corpse backward, a pissed off expression on his face. The corpse just sauntered back towards Daryl and Merle watched this process repeat itself several times before Daryl swung his crossbow at the corpse and it fell to the ground. Something strangely close to a sob tore from his brother's throat and Merle felt a feeling of anguish he had never felt before.
He wanted to turn away as Daryl began to stab him in the face, over and over until there was nothing remaining but a bloody blob. Merle didn't know what would happen next now that he had no body, but he was beyond grateful that he hadn't hurt his brother.
Except that he knew he had hurt his brother.
"I'm sorry brother," Merle whispered, but of course Daryl couldn't hear him.
His brother was grieving for him and he was taking it so hard that it was cutting Merle to his core with every cry uttered from his throat. After everything that Merle had been...everything that he had done, Daryl still loved him. Except now there wasn't a damn thing Merle could do about it. He couldn't help his brother, couldn't look after him or do anything, but watch helplessly. It was terrifying.
Walkers began to pour in to the area, no doubt drawn by the blood and prior sounds of gunshots. Daryl swiped at his face and glanced down at Merle's corpse, picking up his crossbow from the ground before taking off into the woods. Merle followed, but he wasn't sure how or why...just that he needed to follow his brother. He remained several steps behind him until they arrived back at the prison.
Merle watched as several members of the group ran outside, his brother ignoring them all...except for one.
Mouse. His brother's woman.
Merle watched, completely transfixed, as his brother finally came to a stop. Carol opened her arms and his brother allowed her to embrace him. Daryl buried his face against her throat as her arms found their way around his lithe frame, her hands stroking over his back in a soothing gesture of comfort. She began to whisper to him, her lips moving, but Merle couldn't make out the words. He watched his brother nod, his whole body shaking with the silent sobs that tore from his chest.
His brother was allowing her to see him grieve and more importantly, she was comforting him and Daryl seemed to be embracing it. Every trace of fear that had remained within Merle began to dissipate in that moment and he knew deep down within his soul that his brother would be alright. Daryl had himself a little angel in that woman and she would be there to see to him when Merle himself couldn't. Surprisingly he was okay with that, grateful for it even.
He began to feel lightheaded, his surroundings growing a little blurry as everything seemed to shift out of focus. He began to panic, the world seeming to close in on him. Flashes of his life passed before him in a whirl of images like a movie. Sights, sounds, and even familiar scents surrounded him before everything just faded away on a single sentence...
"I just want my brother back."
...