ARROWHEAD || in which 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 finds his place in the end of the world, fighting for survival and for his family day in day out as if he were bred for battle.
[maggie greene x male oc]
[the walking dead; season 1 - ??]
[on-going; s...
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THE SMALL SPACE BETWEEN the panel and the frame of his childhood bedroom door is splintered, crooked with an uneven split from the impact of his Father's boot. He peeks through the gap, wide bluish eyes squinting through and like a nosy hare, the tops of Colton's ears seem to twitch as he listens hard. The home groans but Colton has lost Will Dixon's shouts amongst the eerie quiet. Shakily, he exhales and his head thumps back with a grimace at the thoughtless noise that hitches his breath. Confusion swells beneath antsy ribs, whenever Colton isn't greeted with another bruising blow that would shake the door he presses his back against. It's as if he's a little boy again, cowered inside of the four walls of his bare bedroom and Colton huffs irritably with a knit of his eyebrows. A grown man, hidden in a space that isn't even his own, nor has it been for decades.
Slapping his calloused hand against the surface of the fractured door, Colton shoves to his feet with a shuffle of battered Nike's along moldy floors that Will Dixon hasn't treated in a matter of years. Colton's fingers wrap around the edge of a chipped dresser that he had barricaded the door with, and he grunts with effort whilst he heaves it boldly aside. With a surge of foolish arrogance, Colton rips the door open, almost tearing the loose handle from its place as he cranes his neck around the doorway with a glance down the narrow hallway. It's cramped, cluttered with knick-knacks that are rotting with their own mold with the damp that seeps beneath the window frame through worn silicon. Colton doesn't react to the state of the skeleton of a house, the mere bones of an abode that has never been a home before Colton weighs his foot to a loose board with an unnerving creak.
Wincing, Colton scowls at the floor beneath his sneakers before he's moving toward the stairs he had ascended, two at a time to flee from his Father. Slowly, he tilts his head before Colton calls dumbly in his utter dubiety, "Dad?" Swiping his tongue along his lower lip and kissing at his teeth with the hollow silence that greets him, Colton dares to step downstairs with his hand lingering against the wall. Outside is dark, nightfall crept along the horizon whilst Colton locked himself away in a house that isn't even his in a naive attempt to check on the inhabitant. Since when you hear your Father has been assaulted by a rabid neighbor, Colton presumes the protocol is at least a very brief visit. The residence is much the same as beyond it, dimly lit as shadows warp along the walls and Colton pokes his tongue into his cheek nervously with a knit of his eyebrows at the silhouette that casts along the distant wall.
It's close enough resemblance to his Father for Colton to identify, though he's hunched as his shoulders heave with raspy groans. He gargles, a vile, wet sound that soaks into the walls and sends a shiver down Colton's rigid spine. Sharply, he inhales and his Father's growls halt. Silence. The shuffle of lazy feet follows, stumbling as the shadow grows small and grayed fingers clamp around the doorframe as Colton weighs his weight onto his heels in an instinct to veer back as Will Dixon staggers around the corner. In a lurch into the back of his throat, Colton's heart lodges. Bleached eyes stare emptily at him, and Will's jaw snaps with a sick crunch of decaying teeth and Colton flinches as his Father's chin hangs with the bandages that had been bundled around his forearm unwrapped and torn for the mangled state of the neighbors bite to be revealed. The wound oozes, treacle like blood is welted at its mutilated edges and Colton almost retches at the stench of rot.
"Holy shit–" Before Colton can think, Will pounces in a clumsy throw of himself. Instinct balls Colton's fist and places his entire body weight into the blow against Will's jaw and in a bloodcurdling fashion, it squelches as it falls apart and his bloody tongue dangles from his mouth. The next snap of his Father's jaw lacerates his tongue carelessly with a snarl before Colton dives aside with a hard shove at the corpse as he jerks toward the door. He flies from the porch as Colton's legs pinwheel beneath him in a memorized route as the soles of his shoes skid along broken blacktop in the trashed neighborhood as Colton's chest caves with his fists pounding along the surface of the McKenna home. Even as he hears the shouts greet him inside, hollering to have some patience, Colton's palms bruise with his slamming hands as he gasps for breath.
Wild eyes greet him as Cara tears open her front door, incredulously, and bites, "Gracie is sleeping, you moron!" The blonde stumbles as Colton barrels by, the door still held wide open as her head jolts frantically to find him and she hurries to whisper, "Are you crazy? I'm not doing this, Cole, get out." Colton shakes his head, and his teeth grit as the cogs in his brain burn and smoke with his ricocheting thought. Every movement is autonomous as his stomps carry him to Gracie's bedroom, Cara's petite feet chasing after him as her hand bruises the nape of his neck and Colton spins on his heel, glowering instinctively over her. With decades of experience amongst Dixon anger, Cara juts her chin defiantly, "Talk to me, Colton," She demands, before Cara breathes, "You're scaring the shit out of me."
After a beat as Colton wracks his brain for an explanation, he mutters, "I don't know what I just saw," His narrowed eyes flit between Cara's and the blondes frown is twisted sourly at her face, "But I know that we need to get the fuck out of here," The woman's lips part, with her bewildered eyes snapping toward Gracie's bedroom as the little girl pulls the door open with her small fist rubbing at groggy eyes and Colton jabs his finger into the dark of her room, "Grace, grab some clothes, honey, we're headin' on a camping trip," He lies easily and Gracie's eyes blow wide with glee as she squeals, rounding to flit quickly around her bedroom whilst Cara gasps in a scandalized manner. Before she can argue, Colton clamps his hands around her shoulders, "My Dad attacked me."
Blankly, Cara looks at him, before she gestures a hand between them, "Do you want me point out the obvious or are you going to get there?"
Grinding his teeth, Colton snaps, "He was trying to bite me, Cara."
"Bite...you?" Incredulously, Cara blinks, "What?"
"We need to go," Bored by the prospect of trying to explain that it's a gut feeling, that the look in Will Dixon's eye wasn't the usual sort of violence, or thirst for blood, Colton simply demands, "We are goin'," He flicks a finger toward Gracie's bedroom as he drops his voice for the little girl to be spared, attempting to protect her in every way he has never been, "You're either comin' or you ain't, make your damn mind up because I won't fuckin' tell you again, Cara." She huffs, shoving away from him with her hand going still along the door whenever a bullet cracks through the air. The World goes still, and even the natural ruckus of their neighborhood quietens with an eerie silence. Another gunshot and Gracie shoves from her bedroom with a cry that Colton smothers with a collapse to his knees as his hand clamps atop of her mouth and his eyes cast slowly over his shoulder. The front door still hangs open, hinges creak.
A gurgled groan, and a bloody hand.
authors note, i mean surprise, i guess. colton dixon rewrite anyone? i hope you enjoy this chapter. don't be expecting quick updates and the chapters will get longer i promise.
word count: 1306
let me know what you think! fckinbiblicalmate, lu.
