IN WHICH - The last thing that Hope Mikaelson expected when she came out of Malivore was to still be alive, the second last thing she expected was to be disowned by most of her living family, and the final last thing she expected was some ancient be...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER 2
THIRD PERSON POV
"How much of this shit do you honestly need? This is the seventh trailer this week!" Merle bitched as he shoved the last box of tampons into the trailer.
Rolling her eyes, she shoots the man a nasty glare, "This is a trailer of hygiene products, you dumbass. Filth allows a breeding ground for pathogens and bacteria. And all of y'all are human, meaning that sickness can kill you. None of this stuff is going to be mass-manufactured anymore, meaning that we need to get as much as we can until we can find the goats and sheep we need to produce our own!"
"But why so many girly things? There's only like three of you that still have that issue!" The man whines again, making Hope sigh and lean her head against the door of the store.
"Because things like that can make the hellish world seem a little brighter, especially when we have an organ ripping it's way out of our body. Besides, I might love bathing in the blood of my enemies, but vagina blood is a no-go for me."
Merle makes a face, a mix of disgust and humor, before temporarily shutting his mouth and continuing on with loading the trailer.
Hope had taken up the habit of hoarding products she absolutely knew they would use. Merle and her left daily, and normally were able to scavenge a trailer load of stuff within that day from all the various houses and businesses within fifty miles of the small town they found themselves in.
They might not use the products within the coming months, but it would ensure they didn't run out before the end of winter.
She had managed to get together five tractor-trailers of various snacks, food, and drinks. And nine hauling trailers of various lengths full of everything from alcohol to clothing, shoes, and bedding, seeds for the garden next year, fencing and concrete for a giant wall project they would be starting soon, medical supplies, hygiene supplies, weapons, anything they could ever need.
Hope hadn't grown up in a basic household, she knew to always prepare for the worst, to always expect the worst, and how to always overcome the worst.
And how to be the worst. Because no matter what anyone thought, there was always a war brewing.
"You know that you could technically use tampons for bullet wounds?" Merle suddenly asks, looking up from his task and over at Hope, who was standing against the wall with her hands in her pocket.
"Do I even want to know how you figured out that one?" She asks, raising her brow in a nearly mocking manner, a small smirk twisting on her lips. She loved Merle's tales, even if they were always insane, they reminded her of her father's tales, or even her Uncle Kol's.
"I was in the process of fucking this one nasty bitch up in Virginia, I mean, she was so ugly that you'd have to tie a pork-chop around her neck just so the dogs would play with her," Hope snorts at the crude insult to the most likely dead woman, "And her ol' man came busting up in the place, started shooting everything! This psycho bitch gets hit, then proceeds to calmly walk over to her purse, grab a tampon, shove it in the wound, and then curse him out!"
