To Walk

A New Purpose

          Hey all! I'm terribly sorry for all the delays, told ya I was posting lots of chapters...cuz life was gonna slap me awake later...lol

          Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me! It's been awesome seeing more and more people reading this :D

          Enjoy!! (And comment if you can, or vote XD)

(RECAP)

Damon Rivers' POV

          Jasher began to speak, then glanced at me. I waved my hand and he fell silent. I took two steps towards the blacksmith and spoke with a low, raspy voice, "I am one who has also survived one of HIS attacks." I peeled the red cloth away from the burns on my eye and the man gaped. I re-covered the awful scars, "Aye, I am considered a monster often, and cover my face to avoid being called cursed. I wish to meet another survivor like myself. It will give me great comfort, as, within, I am dead. She is feeling what I felt when I first awoke to the...the bodies."

          Awed, the giant man stepped out of the way and pointed to the door, "First room on your right, good sirs. Please, don't scare her...she reminds me of my own daughter."

          I gave a nod of thanks and headed in, Jasher following close behind.

Damon Rivers' POV

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          The blacksmith's home was a simple shack, an extension behind his shop. I stepped into the doorway the blacksmith had motioned to and found myself in a rather dark room. A single lamp hung from the ceiling, sputtering wearily as if it was tired of being a light source. Allowing my eyes to adjust to the dimness, I let my gaze travel over the interior, noting the blacksmith was a man with few belongings. A kitchen of sorts was against the far wall and a small table doubled as a bookshelf. A closed oak door next to the table indicated a room and as I looked to my right, I noticed another door, cracked open slightly.

          Behind me, Jasher muttered, "Not much cover here..."

          I grunted and headed quietly towards the slightly open door, noticing it was made of birchwood. I suddenly raised my left fist and halted my companion. Small, shaky breaths and muffled sobs issued from the door. I made my approach slightly louder and knocked at the door, hearing a quiet gasp come from the darker interior. I opened the door slowly and the smell of blood and tears greeted me. A still lump covered in a brown blanket lay on a roughly-made bed of oaken planks. A young girl's bandaged head lay on a white pillow, skin nearly as pale as the pillow, her dark hair spread to just past her shoulders. The bandage on her head still bled softly and covered her right eye. Tear tracks trailed down her exposed cheek, starting from her left hazel eye that spoke of one who had just lost their will to live. I shuddered slightly and looked away, ignoring Jasher's questioning gaze. The worst part about going to victims of HIM were the eyes.

          Eyes, once so full of life and happiness, now, without purpose.

          Worst were the eyes of young ones, such as this young girl. They seemed to age ten years in one night. Her cheeks were sunken and dark circles under her eyes testified she had PTSD and had not been eating.

          I bowed before entering the room, Jasher following my example. The room was fairly small, and the table and chair next to her bed and single chest in the corner caused it to be a bit crowded, "We mean no harm." I rasped, but she barely even reacted to my ruined voice, "I...I have come to make you an offer. What is your name?"