✧ ཻུ۪۪. love is the most beautiful of dreams ,
and the worst of nightmares . . .
the walking dead | seasons 4 - 8
( carl grimes x fem!oc )
❁ ↷
12/20/20 & 6/17/22 - #1 in chanderriggs
5/26/22 & 1/2...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⋆
THE KINGDOM HAD AGREED TO WAR FOR A REASON.
One that included bloodshed, with vermilion gore that left behind a series of stains far too saturated to clean.
From the start of it all, Benjamin knew he was going to die.
The moment he experienced a tear in his flesh, burning away at the skin of his upper thigh, his sentence was finalized. The profuse bleeding was enough to convince him so. All the boy needed to do was register the fact of how the warm, thick liquid of his body was exposed to the air, painting his entire lower half in a strikingly vivid shade of red. As the seconds rolled by, maturing into minutes, the blood began to puddle along his legs and gaps, providing a temporary, heavy blanket to his being. One that nearly tempted him to a convincing sleep.
The boy could feel the life slipping out of his body. Each and every organ within him was begging, scratching and clawing until they had an escape from his fatal wound. One that burned away his breath, and raced his heart to the point where it began to beat in his ears. So much so, that was all Benjamin could focus on — a pounding to his head, that only gave a momentary distraction from the pain.
Oh, the pain.
It was beyond the simple word of terrible. Not only did his physical body ache, but internally, Benjamin knew he was slipping. His mind was not straight, thinking in unsteady patterns, and overcome with a numbing fear. He was heavy, yet all the more weightless to the point where he swore he could float. With each passing second, his systems begged for mercy. It began to evolve to the point where the surface of his skin lost the little color he had, dehydrating into a pallor of pure white. His entire existence contrasted with the red, as the submissive color accepted its fate of morphing into a crimson, permanent dye.
The timeline of events in which led him to this very moment of surrendering to death were a giant blur, containing accidents that the boy could hardly remember, despite the fact it only occurred minutes before hand. Benjamin could hardly recall the exchange with The Saviors, his only prominent memory being when a bullet suddenly found its home deep within the tissue of his thigh. His entire being trembled at the thought of it all, as the lack of blood began to settle in, burning up his throat and into his desert of a mouth.
