(I've had writers block lol, sorry for not updating! Take this until I can finish p4 <3)
???'s POV
I shiver slightly at the cold, piercing air around me, the office lined with drawers now a wreck with the infecteds. One had killed everyone I cared for in one swoop; it's a surprise I made it out, but I did it by hiding like a coward. What would the others think of me? Would they think me brave for trying to survive or stupid for not helping? I ponder on these thoughts as I look for treatment for my black eye. If it doesn't get treated it can get worse, I remember. Is that true? Or simply another myth?
I believed us to be safe with our close ties to the military. However they left us for dead with no help sent, reasoning that they lost connection with the Guardian and the outbreak started there. I do feel sympathy for the Guardian and sincerely hope he is alive, but I do not understand risking everyone for one instead of one for everyone. It's not as if this matters regardless, they're already dead and the military is not coming. I will have to make it out of here alone.
And make it out of here alone I will, you headless asshole.
YOU ARE READING
better luck next time
FanfictionThe Guardian, Walten, is plagued by guilt as he begins his journey to the Station. He's slowed by this guilt, to such a point that it brings him into potential danger.. or, so he thought.
