I Am Hungry || The Walking Dead

2.

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The sound of insects chirping filled Killian's ears as he quietly walked through the woods, searching for any members of Rick's group that could be out of their little safe community's.

His father, Negan, had told him they were off limits when they're inside of their communities. So that meant he couldn't kill them at the moment, so he decided to just take a walk and see if he could find any of those people roaming around and kill them.

He didn't have anything against Rick and his people. It was just his violent nature. Ever since he was a child, all he ever knew was anger. All he ever knew about what to do about that anger was violently surging his fists one after another.

His fists left a bloody mess that craved him for more. He never knew a moment of peace in his life. All he knew was anger and hatred. Those two things manifested into a raging storm inside of him.

The only way to calm that storm inside of him was to feed it. It fed on violence. It fed on the pain he inflicted on others. He was never satisfied, though. It never stopped, and the hunger just grew.

When his mother passed away due to cancer during the beginning of the end of the world, his father fed this raging storm by turning him into this blood thirsty killer.

The saviors were scared of him. They avoided him like a plague, like he was a sickness that would infect them with his disease and kill them by a simple look.

He didn't care. He held no emotions other than anger in his body. He didn't even cry when his mother passed away.

His father always let him get away with killing the saviors. He is always finding more to replace the ones he killed. Most of the time, Killian didn't have a reason to kill them. Other times, it was simply because they annoyed him.

His anger was uncontrollable. He would snap at anyone, not really caring who he killed. All that mattered was that he fed that raging storm inside of him.

It always craved and craved. It was like trying to fill a dark void but could never seem to fill it as there was no limit to it.

Halting his steps, Killian spotted a small house, it was old, the wooden porch was falling apart, vines on the wooden beams.

He took a step forward to approached the house but stopped himself as he saw movement through the side window.

It could be one of the dead, but it could also be one of Rick's group members. He moved forward, his gun raised.

He decided to head towards the back of the house, towards the back door. Once reaching the back door, he tried the doorknob. The door was unlocked.

He slowly opened the door, lucky that it didn't creak. He left the door open as he made his way further into the house. the wallpaper on the walls was old and torn on most parts.

There was a noise coming from the room coming up. He approached the room, peeking his head inside, but there was nobody there.

Something pressing against the back of his head made him scoff under his breath. "Drop it."

Killian held out his gun, letting it go. It fell to the ground with a thud. "Move. In the room, now."

Killian rolled his eyes, but he walked into the room, turning around to see who his captive was.

It was a young man, he is lean with shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore dark blue jeans with a grey t-shirt underneath a blue flannel shirt and a dark blue cap that was backward.

There was a small scar on the right side of his chin, his blue eyes eyed him with slight curiosity, but also caution. "Who are you?" His voice made the dark void in Killian flutter, craving it.

Killian didn't speak. He simply stared at him. "Are you alone?"

Sighing, the young man moved closer to him, "any more weapons on you?" The second he was close, Killian surged forward, tackling him, snatching the gun from him, and tossing it to the side.

"Are you one of Rick's people?" Killian spoke, the young man beneath narrowed his eyes at him.

"I ain't know nobody name Rick." Killian stared at him for a moment, knowing he was saying the truth. He could kill him, but something inside of him was fighting against him.

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house." Killian placed his arm on the young man's neck, slightly putting pressure.

"Your. Name." Killian said, wanting to know more about him. He stared deeply into those blue eyes, waiting for a response, but suddenly pain erupted from in between his legs and a fist connected with his face.

He was pushed to the side, and he landed roughly on his back, clenching his jaw in irritation.

Scrambling to his feet, the young man cursed, snatching the dirty dark brown bag from the ground before bolting out the front door.

Killian stood up, grabbed his gun, and ran after him. He jumped down the porch, seeing the young man running through the wide open field. He was fast.

Killian was right behind him in under a minute. "..dude, the hell is your problem!?"

Killian halted his running, breathing heavily. He lifted his gun, aiming it and pulling the trigger.

A shout rang out throughout the field as a thud followed. Killian approached the young man, who stood up, a hand on the side of his left thigh. His hand was beginning to soak in his blood. Blood dripped from his fingertips down to the green grass.

He stumbled forward, "..fricking asshole." He glanced back at Killian, who was still a few feet away from him but approaching him quickly.

There was a motorbike near the road in case of emergencies, and this was definitely an emergency. He was near the road, just a couple more feet. The motorbike was hidden behind a tree. All he needed to do was get there.

Killian watched as the young man bolted again, slower this time due to the wound on his leg.

This time, he didn't chase after him. He let him go. There was this strong force inside of him fighting against his violent urges to kill.

The sound of a motorbike engine reached his ears. A sudden feeling of wanting to hunt him down washed over him.

His feelings over this whole situation frustrated him. He needed to get back to the sanctuary and just kill someone or, better yet, bash their faces in with his fists.

☆
1132 words

Rewrote it just a little bit. I still don't like it. ):

Thoughts?