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┏━━━━━ CHAPTER EIGHT ━━━━━┓ ★゜・。。・゜゜・to hurt another ──── Mallory Thompson
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DARKNESS DESCENDED UPON THE HUNGRY GROUP OF FIVE AS THEY MEANDERED THROUGH THE DENSE LINE OF TREES, following a barely visible trail leading to the abandoned train station. A heavy sense of foreboding crept up on Mallory, like the faint and chilly breeze that nipped at her covered arms. She felt the presence of multiple bodies and her eyes scanned the open area for all possible obstacles as they took cover behind some rubble. Crickets sounded everywhere, their echoing chirps reminded the young adult that the most dangerous time to be stuck somewhere was when the rest of the world was sleeping. A nagging dread overcame her, but the stubborn girl was not inclined any time soon to give up the fight. They'd find food if that's the last thing they did.
"There. That's where the food is. Lot more walkers than last time, though," Clementine spoke.
"We're gonna die," Louis stated.
"It's either die here or die from hunger. Take your pick," Violet replied.
"Which way's quicker?" Mallory played along, tilting her head curiously as she looked between Louis and Violet.
Mallory shook her head after a moment, taking her gaze away from her friends. She talked so easily about death, the subject being a highly talked about one within her birth family. Whether it was the nonchalant remarks that escaped her mother's lips in a moment of intoxicating delusion or the actions of her caretakers as they silently turned to addicting substances that in turn drove them six feet under and numbed their primary senses.
Because of this, Mallory didn't become consumed by a wave of anxiety over the idea of one day reaching the end of all things. However, despite all this, deep down the teenager wouldn't purposefully drive herself to the edge of the cliff as her family had done, even if she participated in activities that would surely kill her if there was one moment of brief miscalculation. She was genetically designed to seek a certain yet dangerous thrill, risk-taking being one of her main traits. Her parents were risk-takers every damn second of her wasted childhood, and despite her holding a strong passionate hatred for the people who were supposed to take care of her, she was their child after all. It was messed up, but it was also her life.
Maybe all her methods of thinking were heavily clouded over and wrong in a sense, but nothing about her life was black and white.
"Clem, maybe you can scope things out. You know the place better," Violet decided, causing Clementine to give her a nod.
"Let me get a closer look," Clementine said. "Can't be too careful."
