Claimed ↠ Daryl Dixon X Reader

1: Run

"There's more to life than just surviving... but... Sometimes surviving is all you get."
-Charles De Lint

The clinging sounds off cans together sounded off in a deportable form. What could have caused this? There were endless possibilities in this world. It could be a small raccoon or any other rodent; it could be a worker, cleaning up the mess that a ruthless small child had created.  Hell, it could have even been the queen of England. But no. It could've been any of those things, but it never is. Instead, it's the lifeless figure of some deceased human.  The dead form of a person who had just lost at the game of life. This world is not the world you're used to. This is a world of death and survival, face-to-face.

You held up your bow and pointed it in the direction of the noise. Silently, breathing in and out. You started walking backwards towards the wall. You put your back against the corner of the wall and waited for someone or something to come out in front of you.

There was no groaning or moaning. "Who's there?" You asked in a solid tone. No one answered. "Who's there!?" You said again, loudly.  Evidently, it had been loud enough to attract some few biters.  Sufdenly, the exit door had began shaking.  This was caused by the forceful pounding, created by the two biters outside that just so happened to hear you. "Show yourself!" You commanded, ignoring the biters. No one came out.  Was it even a earlier that had made that sound, or have you finally cracked?

You rolled your eyes and stepped forward, walking towards the sound. Closer and closer, quietly. You hid behind a shelf, then jumped out. No. It wasn't the queen of England, or a raccoon, or a worker at the supermarket. It was what it always is and what you always predicted it will be. It's just that lifeless figure of some human being who had lost life. He was on the ground, begging for just a taste of flesh and cannibalism. You sighed and released your arrow, allowing it to go straight through its head.

You packed your bags, putting the last of the food in it and walked towards the door where the two biters were. You held your knife up and killed them as you exited the building nonchalantly.

You were in Atlanta, rummaging through all of the places you could find. As many as there was enough walkers that one girl could take on. Usually 10 per store would be the limit when your traveling alone.

Yes, you had a crummy life. As you always said; you were never living, you were only surviving.

You started walking around the city, pondering about what you'll do next.
Sometimes, people are blessed with things to do and reasons to live. You were only alive because you weren't worthy enough to die in your eyes.

As you were walking, You turned a corner but jumped back when you saw what was there. A man, a horse, and a swarm of walkers. "Oh shit." You said. "He's gonna die." You also saw a tank. "If you're smart enough, you'll go into the tank, but if you're stupid, you'll go into the tank." You said aloud to yourself. Living alone was your motto. You never felt the need to help people. You, a person who hates all and is hated by all.

You stood there, hiding, watching the man in the uniform struggle. Yes, it was cold blooded how you didn't care, but in this world, you'd have to be willing to risk your life just to save someone else's.

You heard a few gunshots come down, seeing the road seeming to be hit by pebbles. You scanned your area, noticing a grown man at the top of a building. He was a little older than you and was holding a gun. You didn't know what to do. He didn't know you, in your mind, he had the right to kill you. But that doesn't mean you didn't have a right to get away.

You started running towards the building that the gunshots came from. It was a small department store, just a few places down from where you were standing. "Bitch." You said, panting slightly, trying to be unnoticed by the heard.