This Shattered Soul-Carl fanfic-

Chapter 1

(The girl in the picture is not me and all rights of the picture is hers but that is how Rose looks like. I dont own any characters except Rose and all rights go to AMC except for the plot that I am writing.)

My combat boots plopped onto the ground as I ran from the walkers, about 20 of them or so, I grabbed my gun and shot at the first row of the dead flesh eating freaks while running. I decided to take a cut into the woods. I didn't have a plan but that was the brilliance of it. I always make a good decision at the last moment. I found a clime-able tree and shook my head, "Anyway then, allons-y"

(Guess the refrence c; ) and started climbing as the moans and groans got louder. I got to a branch that concealed me but gave me enough room to shoot at them quietly. I concealed myself as the hoard approached, and I remained unspotted. As the back of the herd was starting to approach I started to shoot them down. I kept shooting until there was about three left. I hopped out of the tree and quickly knifed them all before shaking the impact of the fall from my ankles. I knew I had to keep running for the sake of surviving. As I pant, I take in my surroundings, and realize the endless forest of tall trees. A prison. A perfect prison to keep me safe. I ran towards it, running through the field shooting down walkers in my way and knifing the ones that got to close. I started to shout, "Hello?!" While knifing the ones I have been attracting. "Please, I just need to stay for a night!" I yelled. "I wont do harm, I promise!" I screamed as a walker fell on top of me. My knife tumbled to the side, and my gun was pinned under my leg. I locked my elbows on the chest of the walker, and exerted all my force into throwing it off, but it wouldnt move! Suddenly the zombie thing went limp and an arrow stuck threw its forehead. I pushed it off of my body and grabbed my knife and gun before retracting the arrow from the head of the zombie. The man with the cross bow grabbed the back of my neck roughly and took the arrow back. I started to think that coming here was an awful idea. A whole bunch of people stood out there, aiming guns at me. I was thrown to the ground, aggravating cuts, bruises and a recently healed rib. I rolled a few moments from my momentum and groaned in pain holding my stomach. I was forced into a standing position and was frisked, all my weapons and food and bag were taken off of me. "Hey dude, that's not cool!" My English accent flowing through my lips as I yelled trying to grab my bag back. I was quickly yanked back by the man holding me and a younger boy that looked around my age looked as if he was about to shoot me.

"You shut the hell up, girl." A coarse southern voice uttered behind me as the man with the police suit emptied the contents out onto the ground. A razorblade, pictures, paint, small easels about the size of a hand, makeup, and pencils and paintbrushes. I quickly threw my foot over the razorblade, hoping no body saw it. The younger boy eyed me suspiciously. The man who seemed to be the leader shuffled threw the stuff and pictures which I tried to get from him and only to be pulled back finally threw them all back into the bag and threw it by my foot. Discreetly, I threw the blade into there too, and eyed my weapons by the man with the crossbow. "You can have those back when we trust you, or when you leave." I nodded and removed the guy with the crossbows hands off of me to replace the bag back over my shoulder.

"Daryl, I'll take her." said the younger boy, gun still out. Apparently, the guy named Daryl, had shoved me over to him.

"Carl, she could be dangerous." said the southern man, who appeared to be the leader.

"Dad, trust me." the young boy said forcefully. He waved his gun at his dad and placed it behind my back. I shivered knowing that he could shoot me. I flinched at his hand on my shoulder, natural reaction.

"As long as you don't try to run, or hurt any of us, I wont use this gun." He said softly, opening the door to the prison.

"I-I- I won't," I stuttered out, trying to regulate my breathing from the upcoming panic attack. The repulsive feeling of vomit started its way up to my throat. I turned to Carl quickly. "I need a bathroom. Right now, hurry, or there will be puke all over the flo-" I put my hand over my mouth trying to keep it down, as he ran with me to a toilet. I puked it out, shaking and crying. He pulled my hair back, still having a gun to my back. I couldn't see straight and my heart was racing. The vile vomit ran through my mouth again. I laid my head down on my arms and cried, hating myself for being weak.

"I-I'm sorry." I said shakily. He took me to the sink and let me wash my mouth out. He started to take me to my cell.

"Are you okay? What's going on with you?" He asked, his voice softening.

"P-panic attack." I stuttered out, trying to stop shaking like a small dog.

"Come on. Maybe laying down will help." He said finally being nice. He put his gun on safety and put it back in his holster.

"Take it slow, I- I can't see straight." I said seeing doubles of everything and it being fuzzy. I started hyperventilating as we got to the cell and I sat down rocking back and forth. Looking conflicted, Carl sat next to me and put an arm around me holding my small shaking form.

"Okay, lets calm you down." He said stroking my hair and rubbing small circles on to my back. I nodded my head.

"I'll ask you some questions and I want you to answer them, okay?" He said slowly. I nodded, shuddering.

"Whats your name?" Slowly but surely I was able to answer.

"R-Rose. Its actually Rosie but I would like to be called Rose." I was starting to calm down.

"That's a really pretty name." Carl said, noticing I was calming down. He placed me on the bed.

"I'm going to have to lock the door for just the night okay? Don't worry, I'll come to check on you." I burrowed under the blankets and nodded blankly. After a panic attack I was always quite tired. I heard the cell door close and lock. Shuddering, I started humming to myself a song my mom use to sing to me before I fell asleep.

"Hey, girl, wake up." I heard a loud ringing as the leader banged his gun on the door. I jumped and fell off the bed. I rubbed my head and curled up against the wall. "You ok?" he asked. I nodded.

"I'm sorry for coming here and causing trouble. I'll leave as soon as you want me to. I just needed to get a safe place to rest for a night." I said feebly, not really wanting to leave.

"No. you don't have to leave but I can't force you to stay. But, first I have some questions." I nodded and walked up to the bars separating us.

"Are you or were you with a group?" I sighed and looked down.

"I was. But they weren't very kind to me. Everyone had a family but me. They beat and, " I stuttered through the word, "r- raped me, and I was a slave to them. But we got over run by the risen dead freaks. Most of them died so I grabbed some weapons and food and got the hell out. Been on my own since." I said blinking back tears. He put a hand on my shoulder, and I flinched. He reached back, "Sorry.." He mumbled.

"Any more?" I asked.

"How many walkers have you killed?" I was confused for a second. "That's what we call those zombie things, kid."

"Oh... Well, I killed a bunch in the court yard and a herd of 20, then some of camp, well a lot." I finally gave up trying to count them.

"Final questions. How many humans have you killed?" A tear fell down my cheek.

"I had to put down my mother maybe a couple months after this started. She didn't want to turn and told me to shoot her." I said my voice cracking every now and then.

"Okay. You can stay, but try to pull anything and we'll throw you out or put a bullet in your head. My name is Rick. The boy, Carl, who took you here is my son. I'll take you to meet everybody later." I nodded gratefully and caught him off guard by hugging him through the bars. He awkwardly patted my head. "Alright kiddo, im going to go over there, he pointed to a cell over by the far right.

"Tell Carl I said thank you. I had a panic attack while he was bringing me here and he helped me calm down."

"I will." He slowly walked down the way to his cell. I have a new group, yet I feel so out of place. Hopefully it will be a permanent home for me.