Story cover for Dead love in my hands  (Troy Otto story/ Fear the walking dead/ ftwd) by pantellleria
Dead love in my hands (Troy Otto story/ Fear the walking dead/ ftwd)
  • WpView
    Reads 20,690
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    Parts 72
  • WpHistory
    Time 8h 35m
  • WpView
    Reads 20,690
  • WpVote
    Votes 906
  • WpPart
    Parts 72
  • WpHistory
    Time 8h 35m
Ongoing, First published Oct 04, 2023
After the apocalypse, Troy Otto feels like a fish in water. He is willing to kill to protect his family and his home, as well as for the sake of science. 
His belligerent, unbridled nature often makes others think that he is a psychopath and a sadist.
Troy has a very charismatic dark side that attracts people to him, but at the same time pushes them away from him.
But is there any light in this man? Even a drop of light? Is he capable of loving? What if there was someone else at the ranch? Could it have been different? Or not?

I want to warn you in advance about possible errors in the text of the story. English is not my native language and I do not speak it perfectly. I originally wrote this story in Russian and decided to translate it. If you have any comments and suggestions, I will be glad to accept them.
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Fear The Walking Dead S8 | Troy Otto x Cristine Gerard (OC) Troy was dead-murdered. Cristine had clung to a flimsy thread of her reality through her connection with the ones she was returning to- her current small family unit, her grounding source in an otherwise chaotic existence. Yet, here Troy was, defying the narrative of her fractured reality. Cristine's heart pumped hard, and conflicting emotions drowned her senses. She had endured years of solitude, crafting a facade of resilience, and now, faced with his supposed face, her mind rejected the implausible truth. "This isn't real," Cristine blurted out, her voice laced with desperate denial. The fragility of her mental state, often masked by a stoic survivor persona she had unveiled in full, unraveled in the face of this impossible. "You're not real. "Attempting to escape, Cristine recoiled, trying to distance herself from the phantom holding her captive that defied the logic of her grief-stricken existence. "You're dead." Sheer panic gripped her, an overwhelming surge of fear that clawed at the edges of her consciousness. The very fabric of reality seemed to unravel, and as if caught in a relentless undertow, Cristine struggled against the tide. She suddenly kicked her feet, startling Troy as if trying to dispel an illusion. Breathing became a precious commodity, the air growing thin as panic tightened its grip around her throat. Cristine gasped for air, her chest constricting in the throes of a panic attack. Darkness threatened to engulf her, both in and out.
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