Arrowhead ➳ Daryl Dixon

t w e n t y s i x

Walker blood was splattered all over her body, but she didn't care. She wasn't about to stop until she couldn't go any more. 

She had watched them die. She had seen the look in the eyes when she had raised her gun at them and squeezed the trigger. She had seen them drop, only to be devoured by walkers. Oh, how she had wanted to dive in there and save them. Deep down she knew that there was no way she could have saved them, for they had already been bit, but that hadn't stopped her from longing to. It hadn't stopped her from believing that maybe she could have done something differently to save them.

How could she kill roamers, and then not be able to kill a human who was already gone? 

Her heart hurt- it literally felt like it was exploding from the pain she was feeling. She leaned against a tree for support, holding her hand to her heart. She wanted to cry- oh, how she wanted to lay down and scream and throw a tantrum. But she couldn't. Crying only made her feel worse about everything. Instead, she went on a wild killing spree out in the woods. Nobody had seen her leave, but they had all surely noticed she was gone by now.

Hearing steps behind her, she whipped out a knife and threw it directly into the head of the walker, hardly even taking time to look. He dropped to the ground, lifeless as the ones she had killed earlier. She plucked the knife from his skull, wiping the dark blood on her jeans. 

She could faintly hear people yelling her name, but she didn't stop. Roamer after roamer she killed. When she ran out of knives to throw, she used her bow. By the time she had killed off all of the creatures, she still had four arrows left. Hastily, she retrieved each weapon, wiping them off in the grass before putting them away. 

She stood in the clearing, surrounded by the roamers. She was a sight to see. Nearly all of her skin was red from the blood of the monsters, her eyes were wild and her hair was ruffled in it's pony tail. She looked like a crazy person you would see in a movie.

But this wasn't a movie. This was real live hell.

"Presley..." Somebody said when they entered the clearing. She turned, a bloody knife still in her hand. Daryl stared at her, but he didn't seem scared. That confused her. If she saw a girl holding a bloody knife in the woods, she would likely turn and run the other direction screaming. She shook her head, wiping off her last weapon and sliding it into its holster.

"What, Daryl?" She asked, annoyed by his presence.

"You can't just go flyin' out of here like yer on a mission."

"And why not? I am free to do whatever the hell I please. I'm not hurting anybody." She spat, turning and looking at him with wild eyes. He hardly even recognized her.

"You're hurting me." He blurted out before he could even think that over. She stopped moving, frozen in her place as she looked at him. He didn't know why he had expected her to run into his arms when he had admitted what he had been struggling with for months. She wasn't like a girl from a lovestory- she was like a girl from a survival channel. She shook her head.

She didn't even say anything when she turned and walked away. He knew that she would return to the prison, but she wouldn't return for him.

"Did you find her?" Rick asked as Daryl walked through the gates. He hardly even paid attention to the ex-sheriff.

"She's fine. Goin' on a rampage." Daryl said as he continued walking. Rick didn't even try to go after him, he just let the man continue walking away.

- - -

It took hours for Presley to return. She had washed up in the stream before she had shown her face, so you could see skin rather than blood and sweat. But there was no saving her clothing, which was drenched in the red substance.