a dead world || {daryl dixon} || (being changed and edited since 3/26/2022 ||

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖔

The tracks led us out to this open, and fresh green field that was twice the size of a football stadium. It was weird to see something as huge and unoccupied as this. It was almost peaceful; something else I, unfortunately, haven't experienced As we neared the plain, I put my hands on Sophia's shoulders, and lean down to her size.

I turned my body toward the direction of Sophia, and bend down to her level. to give her the details of my plan. 

"Listen goldilocks, Imma go and check if it is safe. You stay behind the bushes until I come for you. Clear?" I warned her. 

She nodded her head repeatedly. I tightened my grip on my shit, aiming my crossbow in front of me, and headed towards the plain. 

With my footsteps silenced and my breaths cautioned, I am almost positive that this group may very well be hers. Although, my mind is also open to the possibility that Gabbie might be here too, among these people. However, the thought still dwells in my brain; the mere possibility that Gabbie could've been a victim of their hunger. 

First, I saw the tips of tents poking out, and the outline of a huge farmhouse. As I began to walk up to the tents, I felt an object, a narrow stick almost poke my back. As I began to turn around, I heard a strict click coming from the mysterious object, and I immediately recognized the 'thing'; a gun, obviously. 

shit. 

I didn't dare move or breathe in a certain manner. I waited for the person in charge to assert the situation. That's always the ideal response to situations like these. 

"You can turn around now princess." a rough, country voice strung behind me. I turned my body and was suddenly facing a tall and built man without any hair. 

" Better drop your shit darling." He warned. The tone in which he said it totally creeped me out. it was said in a totally rapey way. 

I, so badly, wanted to mutter a curse, an insult of some sort to this man, but luckily my brain acted faster than my lips. As I opened my mouth to respond to Mr. baldy, another man ran towards us. 

This man was a lot thinner and less built than the bald one. He had weird brown-tinted blue eyes if that makes any sense. He clutched onto his holster as he ran towards us. 

" Shane, who is this"? He asked. His sounded like Blake Shelton, with the perfect country accent. It was smooth, gruff, and not at all threatening. 

So the bald one is Shane. 

Shane and Blake Shelton made eye contact with each other and from what. I could gain, I believe the Blake Shelton 'wanna be' made the final decisions. 

"Let's take her up, and see what we should do. She might have worth". 'Blake Shelton' threatened almost. His eyes matched mine and stared at me cunningly. He truly wanted me to believe there was a reason to be scared, a reason to fear the small group that was probably going to appear.

The bald one, Shane, kept the gun pointed to my back, and Mr. Shelton grabbed my backpack and the knife from my pocket. As we walked up the hill, the dome of a roof appeared in my sight. 

As we climbed up the hill, tents and trees came into view. There are about 9 tents, and there was a few people surrounding around the tents. There is a large bonfire pit in the center and people hanging around and taking care of chores, surprisingly. A large, white, old mansion came into view, and an old man stepped out of the house along with 2 beautiful women: one with short brown hair, and one with bleach-blonde long hair. Suddenly, as we came into perfect view of the entire group, minuscule whispers and questions flooded my earlobes and they had questions.