↳ it's who we are now...
oc x carl grimes
season 4-7
TW: Mentions of death, gory depictions, suicide, alcohol and drug abuse, language, smoking, violence, depression, and other mature topics.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own or claim to own any of The Walk...
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We put down all the walkers in the church. It takes time and lots of energy, but we somehow manage to kill every single one of them. In the end, there's more blood splattered on my face and clothes. I find a shattered mirror in the office and take a moment to look at my reflection. I haven't looked at myself in a while. I suppose that I have in passing, if there was a chance I saw a shard of glass or some stagnant water to peer into, but I hadn't studied it like I am now.
I look older, even though it's only been a little more than a week since I last examined myself. Dried blood splotches my cheek underneath a layer that is still wet and sticky to the touch. Using my fingertips, I try to brush away the streaks, but it only smears it worse. I pull my sleeve up and attempt to wipe away what I can. Even then, I still feel broken. I look exhausted. There are dark circles basking under my eyes. On top of that, my hair is a complete mess. I tuck a few of the dark, stray hairs behind my ears before tossing the broken mirror to the side. A shattering sound echos through the room before I back away.
I can't lie about the odd feeling of satisfaction it brings me.
The entire church reeks of death. I want to gag at the scent, but I've grown far too used to it for it to truly affect me. There's no lack of crimson on the floor and even the walls. If Gabriel was so distraught about the murders that took place in his church the other night, I'm sure he's not very happy about this.
"Ready?" Carl asks from the doorway. I turn to see him cradling Judith. I nod slowly, walking out and picking my pack up on the way. I sling it over my shoulder, glad to have it back along with everything inside. I don't want it out of my sight ever again.
"Let's go!" Abraham barks from the entrance. He's been ready to go for the past half hour, but everyone else has been convincing him to give us a moment as we gather our things and pack up into the fire truck.
"Coming," I reply distantly. I start down the aisle, taking one last glance around the building. The appearance of this place when we first arrived was quiet and serene. It's now been destroyed in ways I don't even like to see, and would never expect for a church.
The others are gathering the last of our belongings and loading them into the truck. It's finally been moved away from the building, so we can step inside. Without the stairs under the door, there's a large gap between the floor and the ground. Carl hops down first. I put myself in a sitting position, being cautious not to put too much weight on my leg when I slide off the edge. Carl offers me a hand, which I gladly take. The impact of my feet to the ground is soft, luckily.
