The End Of My World

Chapter 42

Chapter 42

The flood of people slowed and became a massive blob in the entrance to Alexandria. I couldn't find Carol anymore, I lost her while I took down more and more of these, Wolves. I didn't have time to spare though, so I kept going.

Third person

In the midst of the chaos that had engulfed Alexandria, Carol's heart raced, a familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. The sounds of gunfire and screams echoed around her, a cacophony of terror that blurred into a singular focus: survival. Her eyes darted through the shadows as she spotted her next target, the man looming menacingly over a fallen Alexandrian.

With a fierce resolve, Carol moved like a whisper through the debris-strewn streets, her every muscle coiled in anticipation. The way this man towered over his prey, a sadistic glee in his eyes, fueled her anger. In a heartbeat, she initiated her strike. With a mix of stealth and speed, she lunged at the man, surprising him. He hadn't expected someone to challenge him—Alexandrians were soft, or so he thought. But Carol was anything but soft. Redirecting his momentum, she trained her knife at his throat, forcing him to the ground. Shock flickered in his eyes, a momentary glimpse of vulnerability that quickly morphed back to defiance.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice low but unyielding, the knife quivering in her firm grip. "Tell me about the Wolves. What do you want from us?"

His laughter was chilling, a rasping sound laced with contempt. "You think you can stop us? We'll take everything you have and burn the rest," he spat, his bravado faltering only slightly as he realized his precarious position beneath her.

With every ounce of control, Carol pressed the blade closer, feeling the warmth of breath against the steel. "You're going to tell me everything." Her voice carried a mixture of steely resolve and an undercurrent of raw desperation. She needed information, not just for her sake but for the sake of her community, her home.

The tension between them was palpable, thick with the weight of fear and power. The guys bravado ebbed as he saw the fierce determination in Carol's eyes—this wasn't a simple woman he could intimidate. This was a warrior born from loss and forged in the fires of a world gone mad. She was no longer just the soft-spoken woman who had once sought solace in a safe community. She was fierce and unyielding.

"Tell me," she urged again, this time with a whisper that was both a threat and a plea, "or I won't hesitate to end this."

In that moment, as this piece of shit weighed his choices, a part of him realized that the tables had turned. A single heartbeat stretched into an eternity as he tried to gauge his chances of escape, but the look in Carol's eyes held him in place—a mix of fury and resilience that left no room for bargaining.

In the horrific whirlwind around them, Carol's grip tightened on the knife. Teeth gritted.