❝ hell is empty, and all the devils are here. ❞ In the face of the apocalypse, how long can faith and love survive?
[ oc x glenn] || [eventual oc x daryl]
When she was a little girl, her faith meant everything.
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There was no one who could tell her that God wasn't real; no one who could say that there was no higher power looking down from above and keeping her safe.
Every night, before bed, she would say her prayers, then fall asleep counting the stars, small lights that God left on just for her so she would have no reason to fear the dark.
Call it foolish, a naive young hope, but her faith could not be shaken, no matter the obstacle.
But time tests and weathers, and nothing pure can stay.
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When she saw her first dead body, the blood and gore shook her so deeply that it took everything not to double over and spew out last night's meager dinner.
Blood wasn't something she shied away from in the past, but seeing the savage wounds all over the victim's body was enough to knock the breath out of her lungs.
Her God would have never allowed this, should have never let this poor being suffer such a gruesome fate.
But He had, and her faith began to mean less than it had before.
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These times were the stuff of biblical proportions, trials that determined the most faithful of followers.
But it's difficult to believe that mere faith will prevail when Hell is emptied on Earth.
It's hard to hold on to belief in the eye of the tempest.
