"We have to come to terms with what we are. We fight the dead, we fear the living, because in the end, we're all just a dead man walking."
~
REPUBLISHING!!
「t.walkingdead Daryl Dixon ff
between S3+
WARNING:
Gore, Death...
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𝚟𝚒; 𝚂𝙰𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰 𝙳𝙸𝚇𝙾𝙽 ༒
Anka was already inside his apartment. Opening each and every door, hopping to find him sitting somewhere or sleeping. She wanted to kill him. Once she noticed the door was empty, she pulled out a chair, making herself comfortable waiting for him to arrive.
As Anka sat still eyes remaining on the door, she heard gun shoots. Bullets leaving their guns, people screaming in either pain or fear. Anka could only sigh, praying and hoping none of the people she arrived with were shot and killed. She got bored from waiting so she stood up, looking around his room. She finally remembered, she turned around, throwing things up and down, finally coming across one thing she was missing. Her bag filled with her items. Her bow and her arrows, her snacks that surprisingly were untouched, medical stuff that was also untouched and lastly her MP3 player. It took her a while to find one of these that worked, also one that had a lot of music on it.
While Anka was searching through stuff thoroughly, she couldn't help but ignore the continuous rattling. Behind the closed door. She lifted herself to her feet, walking towards the sound of the thudding. She swung the door open, getting ready to attack.
Only to be caught off guard by the wall of decapitated walkers. Their heads drowned in water in a fish tank. Anka couldn't heal but look at the faces. Then more thudding could be heard. She turned her head, trying to find the source, it wasn't until she came across a changed wall. She could hear the noise getting louder as she approached the wall. Anka twisted the lock, trying to find out what's hidden in the dark room. A silhouette forming, she couldn't help but ask dripping her weapons. A child. She had her hands tied, a bag over her head. This only drove Ankas temptation to kill Philip Blake more. To crush his skull against metal, stab him though his chest and rip out the heart inside his body.
"Shh. It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." Anka trembled, heart clenching looking at the child. Anka continued to guide the child either voice. The child's hands were locked and Anka was on the verge of tears. She wasn't surprised that governor would do something like this, what surprised her was even to a child. Anka unbuckled the chain around her neck, facing the girl again, slowly tearing the bag off the child's face.
Today was full of surprises. Especially this one. Once the bag was removed, the child leaned forward, trying to take a bite out of Ankas skin. Her eyes widened, grabbing the metal collar around the dead girls neck pulling her away from behind. She picked up the pistol, aiming it at the child's head, getting ready to put the bullet in her head. All of a sudden she hears a scream out for her to stop. Anka raised the gun, pointing it at the man whose shell faltered. He stood there his gun raised towards her. He soon let his gun face the ceilings, hands up in the air.
"Look, hey." His breathing was ragged his fingers sprawling out from each other. He out his gun back into his holster, buckling it from his pants and throwing it to the opposite side of the room. "It's me you want. There's no need for her to suffer."
