Don't let go: Joel Miller x OC

A Wreckless Whim

"No, no, no, no!" She screamed from the top of her lungs. Several mutated heads, bloodied and dripping lifted from the moribund shell of reds mutilated dying body.

No eyes but gaping crimson teeth boring deeply into her soul. Her turn next...

Ava could feel her entire form beginning to tremble, sure to turn to convulsions if she had to sit back and watch the man that owned her heart be torn apart limb from limb. She'd die right there with him, before these vile creatures even had the chance to sink their viscous teeth into her soft flesh. She'd be already gone.

Click. Click. Click.

She continued to squeeze her shaken fingers over the trigger, in the delusional hope that more bullets would miraculously appear. Miracles didn't work that way...

Her sullen eyes remained trained on his form, still fighting with all his might, refusing to give up and let the darkness take him. He was growing tired, she could see that. His blows to the mound of infected packing less of a punch than they were. Him finding it harder and harder to fend them off. His poor mare surviving purely on adrenaline, her intestines now spilling to the floor, a pool of crimson liquid collecting beneath her. It was a lost cause...

Their sorrowful eyes found each other amongst the chaos. It was an expression she'd never seen him wear so blatantly on his sleeve for the world to see, fear and resignation. The acceptance of his dire fate. Tilted brows and an apologetic glisten to his eyes as he ever so subtly shook his head. It was over...

Ava choked for oxygen, her airways fluttering open just enough to prevent her from being starved, her heart palpitating at the sight. Chest heaving up and down. The sight of him beginning to pull out that white flag.

He was growing weak, they could sense it. Sense that his surrender was imminent and that they'd each gorge on their pound of his flesh once fallen.

Jerk like movements, jittery and quick as the presence of another healthy human vibrated into and through their senses. One...two...three pulling away from the diseased swarm and setting their targets on her. Arms flailing, grunts and croaks of the undead as they each strode into an uncoordinated, frenzied sprint towards her. Sweet, sweet blood. All pure and untainted, calling out to the cordyceps like a sirens cloying song.

She could run. She should run but she wouldn't. No force on this desolate, barren planet would move her. She wasn't leaving him behind. If he doesn't make it, then neither does she- a delusional, incoherent thought. A brash, ill planned decision that most certainly did not have their daughters interest at heart.

Her fingers tethered themselves to the wooden handle of the hunting knife that resided beneath her belt. Her only remaining weapon.

The first clicker, skull split by an oyster like bloom originating from within its vacant brain, launched its limbs towards Maxi. It's splintered nails, more so resembling claws clasped ahold of her billet strap, heaving it's way towards her leg.

Her foot springing free from its iron stirrup to boot down on its head. It's snapping teeth salivating drools of thick spit as it resisted the pressure. A strained whimper escaping her lips as its strength began to supersede her own. The serrated knife now firmly within her grasps pulled from the garter of her belt and speared into the eye of its grotesque bloom. Over and over. Blackened stale blood, oozing from its perforated brain and a deranged screech as it finally fell back. Twitching and writhing on the ground below.