A crack echoes throughout the small cottage, adding fire to the loud spasms of thunder and lightening bursting through the wooly gray sky. All that could be heard were the screaming vaults of heaven, groans of the undead and the forests that hadn't been quiet in years. Another crack sounds and the girl hunched behind a little kitchen table jumps- peering out so her eyes land on the cottage door. It was in clear line of her view and was occasionally pounded by whatever force was on the other side. A desperate attempt to break in.
However, the force wasn't that of the undead behemoth's yearning for flesh and blood, but it was that of a human. Human's to be exact.
The girl had seen it, after peering through the peephole. A man and a boy next to him. They pleaded at first- when the dead were at a far away distance. Pleaded for the house owner to let them in- quick to say they weren't dangerous. Those calm pleads soon led to widespread panic as the dead moved closer.
The man was big and scary and could easily knock the door down, but it was barricaded to an extreme level- a precaution that was already set up before the girl had found the abode a few weeks back. She bit the inside of her cheek wondering how much trouble she would be in, if the strangers outside had known about the backdoor that had a broken lock. An easy target- she was. Just hidden away.
She didn't trust them. Not one bit. With their huge guns- twice the size of her tiny pistol that had run out of ammo five days prior. She scampered over to the kitchen counter hiding herself away behind the furniture.
Hiding.
That's all she knew to do.
It wasn't long before the man tried to break in, grunting as the harsh wood pierced against his arms. The sounds of the monsters grew nearer and the girl shuts her eyes tight- waiting for the inevitable sounds of death.
Instead, she hears the sound of a baby- wailing loud and clear. Her eyes snap open as she hurriedly scoots over to the door, hands shaking around the doorknob before she unclasps the lock, and opens the door wide. She doesn't bother greeting her new guests, resorting to scuttering back near the kitchen counter pulling out her empty barreled gun and pointing it towards the acquaintances. Both have their guns drawn out too, and once the door is shut- the man finally looks towards who had let them in. His eyes widen, mouth falling open slightly at the sight of a shriveled little girl, around the age of his son. He pulls his boy closer to his side, inquisitively eyeing the girl who hoped the shake in her hands wasn't noticeable.
"Thank you." the man nods, deep blue eyes filled with gratitude and sympathy. "I'm Rick. Rick Grimes." He swallows- eyes travelling to the pistol that was wrapped tightly in her hand before he looks back up. "This is my son-" he motions to the boy next to him and the girl finally looks away- eyes coming to rest on clear blue, "-Carl. And my daughter Judith"
The boy- Carl- doesn't move to show the little baby who had since quietened down at the warmth of the house. Rainwater dripped down the boys hair- running down his cheeks that were blackened with what looked like soot. However, his eyes were a contradiction to his aura- they were bright and innocent, doing no justice to the scowl his face was drawn into. The girl looks away, a pit forming in her stomach. She hadn't seen people in what felt like months, especially someone her age.
Their faces were greased with sweat and grime, breathing ragged and position defensive as they raised their guns threateningly at the girl ahead.
"We're not gonna hurt you-" the man soothes, eyes pleading for an easy interaction but the boy beside him had an expression that said something different. He looked no younger than fifteen, the bags under his eyes were tightened cautiously and his face was almost devoid of emotion. He stared straight through her-making her look away from the piercing blue that matched his father's, but in that moment felt much more ominous.
