EPISODE ELEVEN "i did what had to be done" SEASON 4
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GREY KINGSTON
my back comes in contact with the mattress and all i can think of is daryl and rick. gunshots are still ripping through the air downstairs and i'm imagining a horrific, bloody scene.
"whichever one you cry over more has gotta be the one you're screwin'." he says as he holds my shoulders down.
my brain feels numb as if i'm barely processing what's happening right now. that is until the front of my shirt is ripped open and his weight is pressed further onto me.
i squirm out of his grip and try to reach for my gun that's laying behind me, but the guy grabs my arms and restrains me by the wrists again. i draw my knee up, kicking him in the torso and he grunts from the pain.
"what're you fightin' for? your two men are dead downstairs." he growls, continuing to hold my body down to the bed.
i whine trying to reach for his gun that's attached to his hip. he raises his lower half so it makes it a greater reach for me. his hands wrap around my throat, pushing down on my windpipe.
i strain my entire body trying to reach for his gun. the sounds around me are starting to go muffled and i can't breathe.
my fingers graze his gun and he's so focused on choking me that i'm able to rip it out of its holster with one hand.
i don't hesitate to point it below his chin and pull the trigger.
his head rocks back and i see red. it's everywhere, on him, on me, even the ceiling. i take a deep breath once his hands go limp around my throat.
i use my left arm that's been pinned to the bed to shove his body off of me. i'm coughing, trying to catch my breath and pull as much air into my lungs as i can as i drag myself off of the bed.
i crawl to the closet, grabbing my bag of supplies. i look down at my chest, blood is everywhere and i feel it's all over my face too. it's quiet downstairs now. no more gunshots.
DARYL DIXON
what turned into an all out brawl fast, ended just as quick as it started as rick and i take out each man one by one.
rick's last kill is a guy who ran down the stairs. bodies cover the entire floor of the living room and foyer.
rick and i look over the mess we made and then to each other. he nods his head to me and i nod mine back—a signal of good job and i'm okay.
a single gunshot coming from upstairs makes our eyes go wide before we run to the staircase. we make sure not to trip over any of the dead bodies.
we reach the top of the stairs and walk slowly towards the only room that's door is closed.
