TWDG Season 4 -- Male Reader x Violet

And So It Begins...

As soon as the dead started walking, the whole world changed. People became more selfish. More violent. To most, it was now a kill or be killed world. Everyone fighting over scraps of food, water and territory.

Although, there are some who look out for others, and those who try to rebuild society. Make their own community. They're usually a rare find, as they don't last long. They either die for their community, or get overthrown.

I never joined one. I suppose it has to do with trust issues, but thats pretty natural nowadays. I found being on my own easier. No one to get me killed, and no one to worry about.
I'll admit, it gets lonely. Mumbling seems to have become a habit of mine, just so I remember how to actually talk.

It's been years since I've talked to anyone else.
I see other people now and again, but always from a distance. I'd rather not risk being mugged or worse just to have a nice little chat.
So I watch them, learn a couple of things, pick up the few scraps they leave behind, then move on.

My travels have taken me to a small abandoned town. There were quite a few walkers wandering around, but they shouldn't be a problem as long as I stay quiet and watch where I step.
So far, I've searched every accessable house and store, and could only find two cans of dog food. At least I was finally able to fill my small canteen with water.

I approach a small two story house. The windows are all boarded up, and a small light was breaking through the gaps from a room in the second floor. At the fence was a sign.

"Looters Will Be Shot."

All I had to eat was dog food, so I think I'll take my chances.

As I stood on the porch, a bad smell invaded my nostrils, as if something was rotting.
Could be a walker.
I reach into my bag and take out my crowbar, a lucky find from when I looted someones garage.
I didn't need it for the door though, as it was left slightly open.

The house was dusty and dark, with only little rays of outside light coming through the boards on the window. The fireplace had a black and white picture of a man in army fatigues shaking hands with another man, and another with the same army man and what I'm guessing are his two kids.
The American flag was decorated on the wall, and below it was a cabinet with a few medals. Nothing of use.

As I moved silently through the house, the smell got worse as I approached the stairs, but still no sounds. Walkers aren't that quiet. Maybe someone left a dead one in one of the rooms.
There was nothing of value in the kitchen or the living room so I decided to stop putting it off and go check.
Once I reached the top, I was in a tight hallway with two doors. One was just a dirty old bathroom, so I headed towards the end of the hall. As I came closer, the smell grew worse. Something definetly died in there.

I slightly opened the door and peeked inside.
There was a king sized bed, a record player, and a chair in the back left corner.
And in the chair, was the old man in the photos, empty revolver on the ground, bullet through the head. Beside him on the small bed side table, was a lamp, and a photo of a woman. His wife.

"Poor bastard."

I open the door and hear a snap, then a loud gunshot. A string was attached to the door, and when I opened it, the string pulled back the trigger of a shotgun, pointed out the window.

"Jesus..." I clutch my chest.

But a heart attack was the least of my problems. I could hear the groans of walkers shuffling towards the house.

I threw myself downstairs, breaking for the front door. It seemed every walker in town was right outside. I slam it shut and look for something to block the door with. I run over to the medal cabinet and try to move it over, but it doesn't budge. It was nailed to the wall.

"Dammit, think (Y/n), think."

I take a glance around for something and decide to use the couch. It wont hold them for long, but hopefully it'll give me enough time to escape.
I rush to the backdoor and try to open it, but its locked. Good thing I have my crowbar. I take it out and start to work on bringing down the door.

The front door opens slightly, and an arm comes through as the head tries to do the same.

I dont have much time left.

The backdoor started to feel like it was about open, but the walkers were about to get in as well.

"I bet that old bastard is laughing at me."

The couch was pushed out of the way and the front door was open.
Not good.
Walkers flooded into the house and started to move towards me.

"Hurry the fuck up and open!"

Shouting seemed effective, as the door finally gave out.
I immediatley turn around and swing at the walker that was just about to grab me, cracking its skull.
Quickly, I pick up my bag and make a run for it, hopping the wooden fence, and sprinting into the forest.

Once I decided I was far away enough, I slowed down and caught my breath.

That guy really didn't want to be looted.

I didn't get anything either. What a waste of my time. Either that place was already scavenged, or that old guy had nothing.
It's almost dark and I've got no where to sleep.
This place cant be that big. I'll just keep walking until I'm out of here, because I'm definetly not going back the way I came.
I'll just head forward, and hopefully get out.

After about an hour of walking I come across an old metal trailer home. It had vines and leaves growing on it, and it seems no one is living in it right now.
I walk around to the entrance and open the door.

It was just one room. Carpet floor, small table to the side, and a small sofa at the back. Some of the cabinet doors were either missing or barely hanging on. Nothing in the fridge, or in any of the cabinets, which I expected.

It'll do for tonight.

I place my bag down on the table and take off my light grey zip up hoodie, and black hiking boots. That left me in my white t shirt and camo pants.
I go over to lock the door, but then notice that its busted.
Well, still better than sleeping out in the open. Or a tree.

I take my crowbar and place it beside the sofa incase I get any late night visitors.
It didn't take me long to sleep after that mess of a day, as I was left exhausted.

My eyes grew heavy, and I drifted away.

Waking up the next day, I feel refreshed and recharged. It seems I slept in, but I really needed that rest. I rub the sleep from my eyes and head over to my bag.

Which was on the floor...

I quickly glance to the door and see it wide open, with muddy boot prints leading inside and out. Boot prints that werent my own.

Shit.

I pick up my bag and look through what they took. Both my canteen and my raincoat where gone. I look over to the sofa and see my crowbar is gone too. It wasnt underneath it or anywhere in the trailer.

"Fuck!"

I threw my bag onto the floor, making the stuff that they didn't take fall out.

I groan and kneel down, putting them back in.
It seems they didn't take my lighter, my dog food or my... mask.

I pick it up and hold it with two hands, staring into it's eyes.