The Walking Dead • One Shots

Sick Individual

Daryl Dixon x Reader

"I'm doing this thing called whatever the fuck I want".

A truck seemingly full with supplies in the middle of the apocalypse was the equivalent of winning the lottery in the old world. You were a loner who had managed to survive on your own ever since the break started. The reason why you never searched for other groups of survivors was because you didn't work well with others and honestly, the idea of taking care of other people made you sick. So you can imagine how much of a lifesaver getting your hands on that thing was going to be. 

A few days passed since you saw it for the first time, and considering the area was mostly desolated, you figured no one would actually noticed its existance.

 Of course, like many times before, you couldn't had been more wrong. 



As you arrived the place determined to finally take it with you, you noticed a man with longish dark hair guarding the truck while other tried to open it. 

- 

"Assholes" you whispered as you realized they were actually going to take the truck with them after you spent a great amount of time keeping an eye on the vehicle. 



Using as an upper-hand the fact that these two seemed highly concerned about opening the truck instead of just getting out of there for good, you made the bold decision of jumping to the driver's seat in attempts of starting the engine and getting the hell out of there as soon as you could. 

Turning the engine on and actually making it out alive was the difficult part but it was either that or staying out there and fight for it and to be honest, you were in no mood for that kind of action.

Daryl instantly ran to the driver's seat as he heard the characteristic sound of a vehicle starting but you were faster than him. You reversed the truck with such a boldness that you were definitely surprised of yourself. A few gunshots could be heard as you left the two men behind, their silhouettes could be seen from the rear-view mirror, just standing there in the middle of the road as they tried to understood what the hell had just happened. 

Miles later, once you were absolutely sure you weren't being followed by those two, you made the absolutely stupid decision to stop the vehicle by the side of the road to see if the truck was really a jackpot or if it was just full of walkers. 

Yeah, you had been there already.


Before you could even get the pair of pliers out from your backpack,  you felt the cold metal of a gun touching the back of your skull.

- "Don't move" a stenerly male voice commanded.

Your mind raced as you tried to think of the best outcome possible in just seconds and doing what he said was definitely not an option, at this point for all you knew, you were already dead.



You outfighted both of them as much as you could, buying yourself some time to get back on the truck again and escaping them for good and you were definitely about to do it when you felt an excruciating pain and burning sensation in your left shoulder.



- "Son of a bitch" you yelled as you winced in pain on the ground. Both of them running towards you. You looked up to see the man standing before you and wow. 

Just wow. 

"God, you're so pretty" you let out in complete awe, for a second completely forgetting about the fact that you were, well, bleeding out.