┏━━━━°⌜ MALICIOUS ⌟°━━━━┓
post-season 3 - pre-season 4
chapter one, the prison
┗━━━━°⌜ MALICIOUS ⌟°━━━━┛─── ∙ ~ ✖️ ~ ∙ ───
MALACHI GALLAGHER wasn't sure what was running through his hand when a man on a motorcycle approached him and his sister. He was white and fairly built, holding a crossbow, around the same age as Michelle, most likely a few years older.
Truth be told, Malachi had his fingers crossed. Not for sanctuary, but for the unknown man to shoot an arrow through his brain. He was tired; his legs were sore, his head was pounding, he was starving, and the backpack slung around his shoulder was weighing him down. All he wanted to do was sit down (and die, but thats a story for another day).
Michelle pushed her brother behind her, immediately pointing the gun at the man. As if on cue, another man in a car pulled up. He was Asian, holding a gun, and also fairly built. He was slightly smaller than the white male, but was still (seemingly) strong enough to take them both down if he wanted to.
Malachi sighed, taking his gun out of his waistband, pointing it at the floor, cautious to not set them off because one wrong move could get his sister killed. "Is it just you two out here?" The white man asked them.
"Yeah." Michelle answered, dryly. She kept her response firm and short. "Been like that for almost a year." She continued. Mikey turned around to face her brother to check on him, and he nodded in response.
The Asian man spoke up, walking a few feet towards the siblings, "What's your name?"
"Michelle Gallagher, or Mikey." She said. The fifteen year old boy gave them a three fingered salute, "Malachi. You people have a camp?" He still held the gun in his hand, even though he didn't feel threatened. The Asian man glanced at the other man, and nodded. "How many walkers have you killed?"
"Dozens." Michelle told him. It was now Malachi's turn. "I don't keep count. A lot."
"How many people have you killed?" He asked, stepping closer. Malachi looked down at his wrist while his sister gave her answer. "One." The focus went onto the younger boy when he went quiet for several moments. "Six." He muttered, barely audible.
"Why?" He finally asked.
"They bit him, and he asked me to." She sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. She closed her eyes, remembering the night from two years ago.
"My mom begged me to do it after those walkers bit her in the shoulder. The other five were trying to kill us. Wasn't gonna let them touch her." He answered truthfully.
YOU ARE READING
MALICIOUS, grimes
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