"We cannot change anything until we accept it." Carl Jung
(Semi sexy bit in this chapter, you were warned!)
The rhythmic chirping of crickets filled the air. A heavy, oppressive warmth lingered on the breeze, despite the darkness that blanketed the sky.
Ellen sucked in a puff of smoke, before slowly exhaling, watching the patterns of the wisp as they faded into night. The hair on her arms still tingled sometimes from where it had been singed off in the fire. Her nightmares were still consumed by the moaning of decomposing corpses. A scowl crossed the woman's face.
If anything, the calmness that lined Alexandria's streets at night only set her on edge even further. It was an unsettling, eerie quiet, and the woman knew not to take comfort in the stillness for too long.
The woman shifted a second too late, before her attacker was on her.
Ellen grunted as the side of her face collided with the brick lining one of the stoops and she took a piercing kick to the rib.
She let out a muffled snarl as her arm was quickly restrained behind her back, locked and twisted at an awkward angle, forcing her to comply or risk breaking it.
A heavy boot was placed on the side of her temple, and the woman felt a gun cock next to her ear.
"You've been out here every night for the past week. Dunno if this gets my message across, but you need to give it up," a voice grumbled, coarse whiskers from a beard brushing her ear.
"Heard you've got a small penis," Ellen grunted, her voice muffled by the earth.
"I would ask if you want to see it, but I'm not into dudes," the man retorted, before shoving her with a final, sharp jerk, releasing his hold.
Ellen immediately took the opportunity to bolt upright, whirling on her attacker. She reached for a knife when she recognized the man across from her.
The man returned the fixed glare, before extending a hand. "Don't think we were properly introduced. Name's Dylan."
After a beat passed, he lowered the arm, eyeing the hostile woman before him and the serrated knife that glinted in her hand.
He folded his arms over his chest, looking unimpressed. His jaw clenched. "Lower the fucking knife and we can talk this out like adults, yeah? I know brawls are your thing, but--"
Ellen grit her teeth, before pressing her knife to the man's throat.
She raised a brow when Dylan just grinned back at her, his eyes twinkling in the gloom and his smile morphed into a sneer.
"Fuck's so funny?" she growled.
"You can kill me, but you know that's not gonna get you anywhere. Wouldn't exactly be the hardest case to crack if I turned up missing," he said, unflinching.
"Michonne is already looking for a reason to get rid of you since you rolled in. I would say adding stalking your ex-girlfriend to the long list of crimes you've got stacked up wouldn't be too far-fetched."
"You don't know shit about me, or about anything that's going on," Ellen said, also unwavering, knife still pressed firmly against Dylan's throat.
"I was there. Saw the way you treated people at the Sanctuary. Didn't really see what Laura saw in you then," the man chuckled to himself, pausing. "Still don't."
He scowled at her, narrowing his eyes. "She is never going to feel the same way about you. That ship has sailed. I know it, she knows it... I think the only one that doesn't is you."
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Outcast (A TWD Fanfiction)
Horror(DarylxOCxNegan) A medium prior to the apocalypse, aggressive outsider Eleanor has always had an abnormal connection with the dead. But in this new world, Ellen is forced to rely on her survival skills and nerve to withstand another monster entirely...
