Dark Paradise - Joel Miller x OC

"You're safe now"

Warning: some rude language here, can be uncomfortable to read.

The man stops to wipe his sweaty forehead. The air runs out on this hot summer day. Not the slightest breeze blows in this undergrowth they have been roaming for hours. His brother catches up with him, patting him patronizingly on the shoulder.

"Slowing down old man?

-I'm not old, I'm just hot. Hey, stop laughing little brother, you'll soon understand my pain.

-By then you will be getting older again, so I will always be more dashing than you.

-Ssh

-What, it's the truth!

-No, look up there."

The elder cocks his rifle, ready to fire. To his right, a man is slumped against a tree, his throat pierced by a knife. They continue to advance, discovering a car and four more bodies spread out over a few dozen meters. All shot down. All armed.

"Jesus, what happened there.

- I don't care. Fucking hunters."

The younger doesn't have the time to make an ironic comment on his brother's words, as screams are heard. He nods to his elder. They have to take a look. Joel sighs. Why Tommy always wants to help those who pass by? Yet he follows him. His place, his rules.

The screams have stopped, but they know they're getting closer. As they approach a clearing, they take cover to assess the unexpected situation that unfolds there. In front of them, a woman is lying, a man trapping her between his legs, his hand keeping a knife stuck in her lower abdomen. All they can hear is her moans of pain and the man's deep, threatening voice.

She clenches her teeth. The knife tears her flesh, and she tries to move as little as possible. She knows that the moment this dog takes it away, she'll be bleeding dangerously. He might kill her. But not without using her first. He makes it clear with his flood of obscene words. Nothing she hasn't heard a hundred, maybe a thousand, times before. Men are incredibly commonplace when it comes to talking to women like her. She holds his gaze. She must show him that she's not afraid. What he wants to do to her is nothing she hasn't known before.

Suddenly a thud, creaking bones and the man collapsing with all his weight on top of her, driving the blade deeper into her. She ignores the hot liquid now flowing over her and turns her head. A few meters away are two men.

The older one approaches, pushing her assailant out of her body with his foot, but keeping his aim on her. She puts her hands up and a laugh escapes her throat. How lucky. She barely got rid of these men that she's already at the mercy of others.

"Who the fuck are you?"

His deep voice makes her tremble. She quickly regains her composure, ignoring the throbbing pain that twists her stomach. She sighs before speaking in a detached voice.

"Does it matter for what you have to do?"

The two men exchange a look of incomprehension. They were used to infected, to hunters who looked a little too closely at Jackson. They would occasionally help lost travelers. But this situation was unprecedented to them.

"Did you shoot all these men back there?"

This time it was the younger one who had spoken, his gun already slightly lowered. She doesn't answer, too absorbed by the other's gaze on her body. He frowns. He has just realized that the young woman at the end of his gun wears no shoes or pants. Her legs show signs of recent and older scars. He tries to understand.