❝You can breathe. You can blink. You can cry. Hell, you'll all be doing that.❞
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The End started, walkers overran the world, and you stumbled upon the scourge of the new society; an alpha, a leader, and a monster.
In that single momen...
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"I came, I saw, I conquered." -Julius Caesar
Lifting your dirtied sleeve up to your nose, you sniffled, taking a good whiff of the blood, shit, and piss on your body from last night's massacre, not to mention the brain matter of your friend still sticking to your body like a layer of crust. You shivered in place, eyes wavering with unshed tears before you scooted farther into the corner of your cell, body tight in a fetal position for fear of attracting any more unnecessary attention to yourself.
It didn't seem that you would though, considering your other cell-mates were just as terrified as you, and just as dirtied by the blood of their former leader, Jack. Instinctively, you scrubbed a hand over the coagulated blood in your hair, fingers breaking apart the crust as you recalled the way that Kid had brutally murdered off six other people after Jack in a fit of rage, and it wasn't because they had done anything wrong either -- it was precisely because they were unfortunate enough to have ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Eustass Kid was just a murderer, nothing more, nothing less, and with every passing second, you were starting to hate him more and more.
As you silently wept for the death of your former friend and your lost blade, you kneeled over, deathly narrow wrists clinging onto the tatters of your run-down outfit, head bowed down; scraggly hair showering in waves over your shoulders.
The thought of her death had been weighing on your heart. You wanted so badly to reverse the clock and return to a time where it was just the two of you -- but that was an age long gone; a mere figment of your imagination.
Even now, you could clearly remember the dreadful end of your walker friend. Every detail was ingrained into your mind. From how Kid had gone uncharacteristically quiet, to your own racing heart, and his heady scent heavy at the back of your throat.
