• Rain's POV:
Once again you are defenseless, hands and legs tied behind your back, once again your life is being threatened, and once again the odds of getting back to Carl in one piece are slim to none. I mean, you lived last time, surely it will be a similar outcome, right? ...right?
At the far end, you kneeled before the trough right next to Rick, a gag in your dry mouth, like everyone else, and the metal bin chilling your protruding collar bones as you were pressed against it. There were a few workers in the room, dressed in blood drenched smocks, who either spoke amongst them selves, mocked you, or sawed away at something behind you, hidden from your line of sight.
As of right now, you had no intentions of figuring out what it was, but you had some assumptions.
Rick, Daryl, Glenn, and Bob were fidgety on either side of you, continuously struggling against the rough ropes digging into everybody's wrists. Yet you don't bother, for you've been trying for the past five minutes now and are now in somewhat of a daze.
Doing anything to block out the current situation, you try as hard as you can to think happy thoughts, to revisit the good memories, most of which were after the end of the world, most of which were after you met Carl.
Closing your eyes, you pictured sitting on the roof watching the sunset, kissing Carl on the cheek. This then flashed to a montage of other kisses and exciting moments, a few thoughts of your previous life as well. These were strictly with the only family members you truly loved, like your aunts and cousin, the dog you had as a child, yet these visions were old and faded, for although primarily happy, still bringing up bad memories with them.
The images seem to dissolve slowly in front of your eyes, rudely interrupted by the reality of the situation. Yet this picture is a bit different from when you fell into the montage of memories, for now Gareth has joined you and is currently making his way over to the trough.
Your mind has little to no time to adjust, for as quickly as Gareth walks over, "Wouldn't want ya to see all this, little one," he slams your forehead into the edge of the metal bin, immediately causing an uproar from your group mates.
Dizzy, your vision spinning and fuzzy, you remain kneeling, Rick holding you upright as Daryl and Glenn are restrained further by some workers. Voices are muffled and unclear, yet after your physical state starts to recover, you are able to figure out that the slaughter has begun whilst in your trance.
The first view of your newly found eyesight is a stream of fresh blood rushing down the trough floor and into a drain. Already nauseous from the head wound, this makes you gag even more, which alerts the previously oblivious Rick to your recuperation. Unable to speak due to the rag stuffed in his mouth, he simply nudges your shoulder, you responding by quickly spinning your upper torso to face the strong man.
Yet this is a minor mistake, for the rapid movement results in a slight moment of dizziness, as another wave of pain overcame you.
His eyes are concerned, probably due to the fact that your's practically rolled to the back of your head. However, you assure him that you are okay, this small peaceful moment then being interrupted by the thunk of yet another body slamming against the trough.
Realizing that the next victim is no other than your big brother, Glenn, despite the situation's vulnerability, your eyes begin to tear. Forget dying in a few seconds, for they were making their way down the line at a steady pace, you weren't even able to say goodbye to these strangers you had grown to love.
Rick and especially Daryl, the great father figures replacing the one you truly never had. Glenn, an unlikely, yet undoubtably close friend. Beth and Maggie, your sisters, you, at this point, not even knowing if Beth was even alive or not. It was fucking unfair, leaving everyone, especially without a goodbye...leaving Carl without so much of a glance.
