Walking Dead Game Collection

"The Old You"

Title: The Old You
Characters: Clementine, Clem's Mother, Clem's Father, Sandra, Lee
Summary: We get a small glimpse of Clementine just as the apocalypse begins. So, how does it change when she encounters the beginning of the end?
Author's Note: I love season 1 Clementine more than myself tbh
Requested By: mickie3322 and Anonymous
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It had been a day of dreams and had quickly turned into a day of nightmares.
Her parents had been gone for a few days already, Clementine and her babysitter, Sandra, having as much fun as they could in their tiny townhouse. Clem remembered so vividly as she placed gentle kisses on each of her parents' cheeks, in return getting warm hugs and gentle pecks on the temple.
"We'll see you soon, Clementine. Have fun, but I'm sure you two will have a blast. Be safe now!" Her mother's voice had echoed in her head. It continued to whisper itself to her with each action she did in the coming days. Every time her sitter prepared a meal, every time she ran in the backyard, every time she passed a lamp, she heard her mother's advice in the back of her mind.
Days had passed swiftly with the two girls. In between meals their days consisted of colouring, swing sets, park trips, and lots of bountiful laughter.
Until, of course, the day of silence.
Clementine woke up, and instead of jostling awake to the sweet sounds of Sandra's humming and bobbing about in the kitchen, she instead was greeted with silence.
Absolute, pure, total, silence.
But why?
The raven-haired child stood from her bed, changing into a long white dress, her father's hat, her usual leggings and comfortable shoes. Her innocent mind told her that Sandra would hear her and dash upstairs to greet her. It was the greatest way to start off each and every day, a smile and a friendly peck against the top of her bushy head before getting ready and taking her hand back down the stairs. Her childlike wonder always made each day seem like a new world. A new day to take Sandra's hand and allow her to guide and teach about the world before her.
Unless she was dragged into a world that Sandra didn't know anything about.
Still after changing into her adorable outfit for the day, she stood silently and waited - yet heard nothing. Was Sandra still asleep? That wouldn't make sense considering she had gone to sleep the same time as Clem had; 8:30pm.
Clementine wobbled down the stairs, examining the kitchen. Her eyes widening when she saw the crimson that stained the kitchen. Furniture was turned over, the front door was barricaded while the backyard door was locked, but the kitchen had pools of blood spilled all over. If Clem was any older she would have guessed that someone had broken in and injured Sandra in their rampageous state. But her innocent mind simply thought it was nothing more than Sandra injuring herself or feeling sick, and had crawled back into bed. The barricades and locked doors could be set up for a plan she had for the day; an adventure game. Clementine always loved those the most.
Without any doubt in her mind she scuttled herself back up the stairs and towards Sandra's room. Her hands crushed into tiny fists as she daringly drew closer to the door. Was she okay? Did she need to be taken to the hospital? Or was she fine now and just needed help cleaning up the kitchen?
Knocking gently and hearing nothing but the squeal of bed springs the child pushed open the door, hearing faint grunts and pants coming from the lump on the bed. She had no blanket on, was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. It all only affirmed the idea in her mind that she was nothing but a little ill. Taking a step forwards and hearing the floorboards wheeze under her weight, the figure slowly began to move sliding up to sitting position.
"Sandra? Are you feeling okay?" She whispered, allowing the air to build in her lungs before she spoke softly.
Nothing but a groan and the woman sluggishly standing to her feet.
"Sandra?" Clementine whispered again, somehow feeling more tense  than before. Why wasn't she speaking? Was she angry with her? Did she wake her from a nap and she was simply moving to close the door to get some more shut-eye?
A snarl smacked her ears like a slap as the faint hallway light brightened her sitter's face exposing the haunting yellow eyes and decayed green flesh. It look like something straight out of a horror movie; a monster story book her classmates would whisper about at school.
"Sandra!" Clementine squealed, but jumped out of the doorframe as she noticed her caretaker limping towards her, her groans and wails growing louder and more eerie.
With a scream of horror the child darted for the stairs, missing her footing and tumbling down the staircase and crashing into the ground with a terrified wail. After pushing herself up and rubbing her now-bruised arm in agony, she froze in terror as through the dimly-lit stairwell the yellow eyes bore down towards her from the peak. Another wail rippled from her throat into the air, the child darting into the kitchen and messing around, desperately searching for something to use to get the horrible monster to leave her alone, whoever it was. She didn't seem like Sandra. As quickly as she could she shook open and slammed shut every drawer in the kitchen. A bag of canned food? Grabbed. A fork? Grabbed. Then, finally, a walkie talkie. Definitely grabbed. All she needed to do now was to find a place to hide, and maybe she could talk some sense into her sitter through the remaining one still in the drawer. Hearing the daunting thuds drawing closer and closer with each passing heartbeat slam against her chest, the girl darted as far away from the staircase as she could, fiddling with the lock then ripping open the backyard door and tossing it shut behind her. Her safe haven was so close; her treehouse. If she hid away up there for a while maybe, just maybe, she could call someone for help.
As quickly as her little legs had ever carried her, she scurried up the wooden planks hammered into the tree and threw her self-defence bag inside. Food, a fork, and a walkie talkie. Not a lot, but enough to keep her calm and safe for a while. Tip-toeing as silently as she could - not wanting to draw attention - towards the tiny covered window.
Her eyes peeled through the tiniest slot she could make, waiting, urgently waiting for something to appear. But, meeting her gaze instead was the vision of a gruesome arm whipping away from view and retreating back into the stairwell. In the distance, muffled by the pounding sound of blood rushing into her ears, was the sound of car alarms firing off into the ominous air on their street. Hopefully it had captured her attention and she was leaving to investigate. What that thing was, what it was after, what it was doing, its mission, it's name, Clementine didn't know. Whoever that was wasn't the Sandra she had shared so many memories with.
She curled into the floor, a ball of shaking, never-ending terror. Extending her seizure-like arm she tugged the hatch to her haven closed and proceeded to tug her toy stove against the top, just enough to not break it but enough to make her feel safe in her confined space.
Next, what to do. Oh how badly she wished she had a way to contact her parents. But the phone was inside the house beside the dreaded creatures stairwell cavern, and she wasn't about to waltz up to the neighbours to ask to borrow theirs. They would think she was crazy, ask to see her parents, and upon telling them that they weren't home she would be thrown into a car and driven away to that building downtown where the kids without families go. She would never see her parents again, and that wasn't a risk she was willing to take.
She needed a saviour. Something to come out of nowhere and give her a hand. Something to help get that <I>thing</I> out of her home.
But then, she heard something. A faint something. A door slam. At first she thought it was nothing more than that dreaded creature going back to bed, but she had been limping so badly it wouldn't make sense for her to have that strength. So who, or what, made that noise?
Gathering all the courage she had and hugging it into her chest, she poked her eyes out of her little window once more, pleading with someone, anyone to come to her rescue.
And then, it all came true.
She saw something. A man. A figure walking around her house in confusion as he attempted to explore, probably examining the mess that was trashed all around him.
Clementine's first though was clear. "Daddy?"
The figure, whoever it was, sauntered towards the kitchen to find the sound of her voice blasting through the other end of her walkie. He slowly reached into a drawer, tugged out the device, and paused. Hesitated. Then sauntered closer to the window allowing the sun to hit his rough and sweat-stained skin. She knew before he even spoke.
"Hello?"
It wasn't him.
"You need be to be quiet." She pleaded. If he made noise, she - it - would come back down after him. Then, of course, she would be next and the only person she had willing to help her would be gone.
"Who is this?" His voice grumbled, making the child flinch in uncertainty. This had been the only time in the child's life she was content with giving her name to a total stranger.
"My name is Clementine." She paused, voice shaky. Could he tell how horrified she was? Did he know about the terror lurking so close to him? "This is my house."
"Hi Clementine, I'm Lee."
"You're not my Daddy." The words tumbled out before she could take them back. She felt so defeated, so devastated. She had so hoped it was her parents returning, hearing the horrible news somehow of the insanity that had been let loose upon their home and returning to rescue their little girl. If only dreams came true.
"No I'm not." He wandered away, disappearing from her view. "Where are your parents?"
The question she dreaded. "They took a trip and left me with Sandra. They're in Savannah, I think. Where the boats are."
"Where are you?"
"Be safe now!" Her mother said. The last time she heard her mother's voice echoing in her mind. What would she do? This stranger was her only shot at being safe, at getting away from whatever had taken over her home and innocence. She was taking a grand leap by giving up her genuine safe spot, but then again, would it really be that safe if she remained up there and never had anyone to help her ever again?
Then, deep down inside, she knew. If she stayed, she would never find anyone else. If she left with this man, Lee, she wouldn't be alone. Maybe he could help her find her parents. Maybe he could help keep her safe. Maybe.
"Be safe now!"
And safe she would be.
"I'm outside in my treehouse."
For as long as she could.
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Original Link: http://thatglitterygeek.tumblr.com/post/136628372197/walking-dead-game-fanfic-the-old-you