cursed - daryl dixon

o n e

You continued following the rusted train tracks, each step getting weaker from your exhaustion and hunger. As much as you wanted to take a break, you knew they were still out there. Your camp, your brother. You needed to find them more than anything. Your sanity slowly melted away as the days went on of following the same tracks. Day after day. When will they end?? They must lead somewhere.?? Where is that stupid Sanctuary they talked about.??? Is it even real.?

You set up camp along side the tracks and laid down thinking to yourself. They're probably dead.
I mean our camp did get overrun by the dead. That's how we split. I'm going to starve before I ever find them. Should I give up and find other people?? You drifted off with these thoughts.

You were abruptly woken up the next morning to branches breaking and voices talking. Swiftly getting out of your tent, you ran and hid behind a bush. A young girl, and a taller man crept up into your camp, searching through. A wave of starvation flooded your head and you immediately thought to kill them for supplies. You threw your knife out from the bush and stabbed the man in the shoulder causing him to jolt. "Daryl!!!"

Almost immediately the girl fired her gun at you, hitting you in the leg. Falling to the ground you watched as the noise from the shot drew a small passing herd of the dead into the camp. Pushing yourself off of the ground you began stabbing them in the head, one by one until it became two at a time. Stabbing your way through the herd and away from those people. You struggled to run as best and as far as you could. Each limp making your leg spill more blood.

Making it to a small river you collapsed and cleaned yourself up. You tied off your wound and began to doze off. Being awoken an hour or two later to more gunshots and more of the dead. Without being able to stand you decided to slice their ankles and stab them as they fell. Soon, there was enough piled onto you that the passing didn't notice. Once they passed, you tried to push the corpses off, but it was too heavy. You were too weak.

You laid there thinking to yourself, this is how you're going to spend your last moments, suffocating from the rotten bodies on top of you, stranded, starving, everything gone. You knew even if you got up, you weren't going to make it past a week.
That is, until you heard a voice come out from the distance.

"Hey you, i'll get you out of there but first answer me some questions, how bout' that."

"How many walkers have you killed?"