Life and Death
Fear. The unadulterated crushing fear that consumed your entire being. That's what this world is now. A constant state of fear. Well, that and the nagging questions of your survival. Do you have enough food? Water? Are there enough rounds in your gun? Is your blade starting to get dull? Do you have shelter for the night? The list could go on; and to dwell on them, or realize that you will never really check everything off on your list makes you feel empty. Lost, for a better word.
What were you before all this went down? Does it even matter anymore? Really? The person you once were is gone. All that's left is this person- this vessel that just keeps going and fighting; despite all the odds. You had lost people. People close to you family friends you name it. You were almost alone now. What was worth fighting for?
Him.
Your brother. He was older and he protected you. But deep down you knew that if you left, if you died- he would join you soon after. You needed him to survive.
When it came to survival, you knew the basics, mostly what you had seen on TV. You often wished you had take Girl Scouts when you were younger, so you could at least start a decent fire. But of course you couldn't turn back that clock. Your brother had been in the army, so he taught you how to use a gun, basic self defense, and survival skills. It was never enough- not really.
As you both trudged your way through the hot sticky heat of Georgia you looked up at the sky. When you were younger you used to love the way the light shone through the leaves almost like a gateway to heaven. It was a stupid idea now of course. After all the lose, pain, and bloodshed how could you think that way? You no longer held onto that faith, that idea of peace.
Your brother called out to you. There was a rustle in the trees. Moaning and grunting was closing in on you both as the sight of the undead approached.
You looked at your brother and he looked at you. There were too many of them. You were going to die. Funny, you always thought you were going to die of old age, or some other redundant cause. But here it was, death staring you straight in the face.
You fought back and killed as many of them as you could. You looked frantically for your brother. He was running towards you, he yelled at you to move. He tried to fire his gun but it was empty. He shoved you out of the way as the corpses started to feed on him.
You screamed.
He wasn't supposed to die. Not him.
The stench of the rotting flesh was getting closer to you. You closed your eyes and waited for the pain.
"Get out of the way!"
You opened your eyes. There was a man pointing a crossbow at you. He aimed and fired. The corpses hit the ground one by one with an audible thud.
"Come on move! Damn don't just stand there! Do somethin' !"
Your body went through the motions and started to kill the undead around you. When they were all lying on the floor, and you were covered in blood a hand placed itself on your shoulder.
"Hey, you alright?"
You looked up at him. He now had his crossbow slung against his back. He looked concerned for you.
"What's your name?"
You looked blankly at him.
He nodded to the side. "Your boyfriend?"
You looked where he had nodded and you saw your brother. He was broken with parts of his body scattered around him.
Your eyes began to sting and your throat grew tight. The only person you had left in this world was just ripped away from you. He sacrificed himself for you. Where you even worth it anymore?
Everything began to close in on you. You were going to be sick. Your body started to collapse. Your knees buckled and a pair of arms caught you.
He walked you over to a tree so that you could lean against it.
"What's your name?"
You looked at him once more. At the man who had just saved your life- or at least what was left of it.
He looked down at you waiting for you to answer.
"Molly"
You looked over at your brother one last time. You looked back at the man.
"My name is Molly."
(A/N) Ok so I was suddenly inspired to write this little one shot. I'm sure no one will read it, but I just had to put it out there. Molly is a character that I feel for, and I have no idea where she came from, but I'm grateful that she appeared. I hope if anyone does read this you enjoy it.
Yes that is Daryl with the crossbow.
I am pretty sure that this will just be a one shot, in a series of one shots that I am going to put up. (Though different characters) If you enjoyed this and want me to write more of Molly's story let me now.
Thanks for reading stranger.
I don't own Daryl, but Molly and her brother are all mine.