All I Ever Will Be

Chapter Seven - Necessary Kills

The man had shoved the crossbow back into Daryl's arms before they left and guided him through the concrete maze of hallways outside of the main room with the machine gun at his back. Seemed to be his favorite move, Daryl thought as they walked. The lights that illuminated their path flickered slightly, and Daryl found himself wondering again what this place actually was. The amount of electricity he'd seen thus far was quite impressive - this was something bigger than just some underground shelter.

With all these twists and turns, there had to be something else to it. Finally, they reached the end of the concrete, feet hitting dirt and entered the familiar tunnel that Beth and he had first come through. The door at the end was still slightly ajar and they moved towards it quietly and quickly.

"Tree was a good idea," the man said casually as Daryl put the bow on his back and opened the door. "Sent our other hunters out here with a rope and grappling hook to get on out."

Daryl grunted in response, weirded out by the common conversation and not make any sudden movements. He had no intentions of finding food - just getting rid of this guy and getting back to Beth. He realized he had no real sense of time underground and was surprised to see dusk approaching in the sky. Had they really been underground for that long?

The tree branch was still in place where Daryl and Beth had positioned it. The man looked up it, then towards Daryl, indicating he should climb it first, so he positioned the crossbow on his back and went up, careful of where he placed his feet, not wanting to trip. The tree sagged underneath this weight and he wondered if the man was actually dumb enough to try and climb it. He was easily a hundred points heavier than Daryl. He got to his feet quickly at the top and looked back down at the dumbass who had begun to climb, using one hand to hold the gun, pointed at Daryl and one hand to hoist himself up.

What an idiot. It was a miracle he'd made it this long. The branch was going to break, Daryl knew it, and as he had the thought, he heard the unmistakable crack of bark echo through the air. The man stumbled over his feet, slightly losing his grip on the gun and Daryl wasted no time. He swung his bow across his chest, lined up his bolt and shot it quickly. It sunk deep into the man's skull as he grasped for the trigger to shoot at Daryl, but fired shots into the sky instead, missing him completely.

His heavy body collapsed into the hole, disappearing from view and sending up a cloud of dirt after him. Without thinking, Daryl jumped down into the hole, landing on his feet. The bolt stuck straight out of his forehead, right between his eyes, blood squirting from the sides. The man's eyes crossed, rolling to the back of his head and Daryl looked away as he made his last spluttering noises. Killing was never easy for Daryl, never something he liked doing, but this one was so very necessary. Once he was sure the man was dead, he grabbed the bolt back from his cranium, wiping it off on his pants.

"Motherfucker," he said in a grumble. He turned then and headed through the tunnel door, pulling it shut behind him, running down the long tunnel back to Beth.

She was screaming, she couldn't help it, as the man pushed her, face down, to the floor. Her shrieks came in waves - she was having trouble finding her voice. The wind had been knocked out of her. His long fingernails were tearing at her now. He was trying to hook his hands into her jeans to pull them away from her skin and she was wiggling away from him. She was stuck, his heavy body on top of hers and he was groaning at her, trying to bring his face close to hers. He smelled of vomit and liquor, his hot breath sending the scent of rotten teeth up through her nose. She gagged, sickened by him, trying to scramble away.

The man had gotten to her jeans and was pulling them off of her, popping the button off from sheer force and sliding them over her butt and to her knees. His stubby fingers tore her underwear, ripping the seam, exposing more of her than she was comfortable with. "STOP!" she screamed, knowing nobody could hear her.

He shifted himself in an effort to unbuckle his own pants and it was the chance she needed as his weight came off of her and she scrambled to her feet, the man's hands still grabbing at her, closing in on nothingness. She grabbed the sides of her pants, bringing them back over herself, her breath out of sync, sweat dripping down her face.

The lid. It was so close, yet so fucking far away as she went towards it, her legs feeling unnaturally heavy. He was behind her, but so drunk he couldn't get to his feet quick enough as she grabbed the lid in her hands. She ran towards him then, anger blurring her vision as she brought the ceramic piece down on top of his head, watching it shatter every which way, the pieces crumbling down the side of his head which was bloodied from impact.

He fell backwards instantly, but she wasn't convinced she was safe, still feeling his fingers all over her body, wanting to be sick all over herself. She still had a large piece of the ceramic in her hands and she slammed it into his head over and over again. Someone was screaming as she was doing it and it was only after she stopped, only after she'd crushed his skull in and was covered in his blood that she realized she was the one who was screaming.

The man's face was unrecognizable - he barely looked human, his cranium completely concave, eyes bulging from their sockets, skin covered in blood. Beth was crying, terrified, distraught at her disgusting masterpiece she'd formed and she recoiled in fear, throwing the pieces of ceramic she still had in her hands away from her, shivering with adrenaline as her back found the wall.

She sobbed uncontrollably, not crying, but heaving with aftershocks of what she had done. She needed to get out of the room, so she scooted to the small bathroom, wanting to hide, to disappear into the floor, to get away from the man - the dead man now - and forget what had just happened. She laid down on the cold floor, flat on her back, staring up at the single lightbulb that was lit overhead of her, her eyes crossing, blurring her vision.

What had happened? Had she hurt him? Had she killed him? She couldn't remember now, her mind was soaring in all different directions. Her body was aching, skin on fire and she brought her arms up so she could have a look at them. Both were covered in sticky, hot blood. It was all over her, she could smell it now.

"No—o," she moaned to herself, hugging her sides, shaking with emotion as she curled up into the fetal position, rocking back and forth, her emotions taking over.