The Walking Dead: Life & Death [CANCELLED]



  • edited March 2015

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death Episode 1 – Who We Once Were [FINALE Part 1]

    Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Day 4.


    Jill led Victoria through that same obscure stairway. The putrid stench of urine and lack of soap and water invaded her nostril, which forced her to hold her breath. This time, the door to the first row of apartments was just a few steps up. Walking up those stairs, Victoria felt the stairwell’s cold temperature swoop by her, making her shiver and erecting the hairs in her neck. She wasn’t feeling very well – her stomach was repulsed, constant nausea turned her guts inside out. It was like she could already imagine the dead things growling at her…the nightmare repeated itself.

    Everything she knew was gone.

    The duo met Oliver and Andrey outside the door. Oliver was carrying a fireaxe over his shoulder with the dexterity of a juggler, while Andrey had in his hand an ancient sabre, which surprised Victoria. That weapon popped into her imaginatio a potty-mouthed pirate sailing in a ship, brandishing that same sabre. It was an odd weapon.

    “Ain’t it a beauty, Jill?” Andrey contemplated the sword. “Found it in a museum on that run yesterday. Guess I’ll have a chance to use it today.”

    “Can that thing even cut through butter?” Jill quizzed, putting a hand on her hip. She doubted that anyone would keep a live weapon at a museum, plus the blade seemed dull.

    “I know it’s not real…” Andrey admitted, a naughty smile drawn on his face. “But I’m sure it’s consistent enough to bash a skull in.”

    Oliver chuckled at Andrey, who looked like a kid on Christmas’ Eve. His smile faded when he looked at Victoria, who seemed a bit ill. He deduced it from her lowered head and her fingers that were constantly wrapped around her forearm.

    “Is Victoria coming with us?” Oliver asked, somewhat skeptical.

    “She wants to.” Jill told him, glancing at Victoria.

    “Are you sure, Victoria?” Oliver certified, elevating a brow. “You don’t have to do this…”

    “Let’s just go…” Victoria hurried the matter, not making eye contact with him.

    “…Okay…” Oliver assented, with a sluggish nod.

    Andrey marched up to the door, involving the handle with his palm. “Ready?”

    Oliver and Jill nodded, as he gripped his axe with both hands and she loaded an arrow onto her bow. Andrey opened the door in a sudden move. Oliver and Jill immediately took a peep inside, while Victoria tiptoed to see past them. In the long hallway of that level, a single zombie roamed in the middle of the passageway. It was a male couch potato, lacking any hair on its head and wearing a sleeveless shirt and striped pajama pants.

    The smell invaded Victoria’s nostrils. The rotten odor travelled all the way up to her stomach, that now seemed to be spontaneously combusting. A flame grew in her insides and made its way up to her mouth…

    Victoria spun on her heels and bent over the railway pas the vomit reached her mouth. She essayed to swallow it down, but before she could realize it, her cheeks were imploding with barf, that she spewed all over the ground. She leaned against the wall, grunting a high-pitched weep as tears made their way on the edge of her eyelids.

    Victoria sniffled, gazing down at the bisque liquid, that was mixing in with a pile of coke cans littering the corner. She let out another whimper, before wiping her mouth. “I’ll, uh…just go and kill that thing.” Andrey awkwardly said, vanishing into the apartments.

    Oliver hurtled near Victoria, tapping her back. “Hey…let it all out. It’s fine. It was just one. Andrey’s got him.”

    Victoria got back onto her normal posture, blinking away the tears. “It’s just…the smell…”

    “I know what you mean.” Oliver said in the most comical manner he could think of, trying to lighten the mood.

    Jill folded her arms, biting her lip. “Maybe you should just sit this one out, Victoria.”

    Atlanta, House in the Forest. Day 4.



    “C’mon man…” Matt beseeched once again, rapidly wiping away the sweat off his face. He forgot about the option of aggressing Billy. That was still his best friend, and every time she thought about hurting him, a flashback of all the fun memories they had stopped him. Matt dared to take a step forward.

    “S…stop! I’ll…I’ll…!” Billy stammered, barely audible because he grinded his teeth at the same time. His arms trembled.

    Matt advanced towards him, tiny step by tiny step. Matt’s eyes were fixed in a trance with the barrel of Billy’s gun. The heat that his nervous system spread throughout his body, along with the extra oxygen his lungs took in and the sweat that poured all over, kept telling him that that gun could go off at any moment. One step too much and it was game over.

    Matt was just a step away from Billy. The barrel touched his stomach just barely. The gun violently trembled in Billy’s hands, because of the tears that destabilized him. A lump formed in Matt’s throat, and his words came off in agonizing whines.

    “It’s…it’s gonna be okay…” Matt pleaded, with a sad frown and his mouth corners drooping. “We’re friends, man…we can get through this…together…we’ve all lost something, Billy…but we can gain something back…”

    Billy didn’t respond, pondering. A silence crumbled upon the room. The enraged fists battering on the door were as loud as a grandfather’s clock pendulum, that at each blow, stripped away a strip of Billy’s sanity.

    Billy stopped crying. His face was bleak and blank, lacking any expression, only the few remaining tears dripping off the edge of his jaw. He looked at Matt. This time around, the student didn’t see those cold, serial killer, snake eyes. He saw the irises of a suffering, anguished boy who was lost in an unknown world.

    “You’re right.” Billy whimpered. His voice was much calmer and was soft as a hummer. He sniffed, slowly turning the barrel away from Matt.

    “You…you see…?” Matt couldn’t help to crack a smile, feeling much more relieved. “We can make it bro.”

    “That’s where you’re wrong.” Billy stammered, wiping away the tears. Gradually, he tilted the rifle in his hand, positioning it below his skull, in the space existing between his chin and his Adam’s apple. “You’ll make it…but I won’t…”

    Matt froze at the sight of Billy placing the barrel underneath his head. His eyes became as peeled as potatoes without a peel. “Billy…! NOOOOO!”

    Matt stretched out his arm, in a desperate attempt to rip the gun off his sweaty fingers, but it was too late. The gun roared as loud as a plane taking off. The noise echoed through the claustrophobic room, deafening Matt. He halted dead on his tracks and covered his ears in an instinct. A constant ringing cacophony resounded within his brain, disorienting him. He banged his knuckles against his temple, like if it would help to dissipate the echoes. He blinked, when he realized that his face was sprinkled with blood.

    Opening his eyes, Matt collapsed onto his knees like his heart had just been stabbed. Billy’s corpse was lying on the ground, his eyes rolled back in his cranium. Torn muscles, blood vessels and gore gushed out of the hole in his neck. The top of his head was a volcano of blood and grey matter.

    Matt didn’t do anything. He let the zombies beat at the door, as his emotions flushed all over him and he stood still as a brick wall.

    Atlanta, 1st Apartment Level. Day 4.


    The group had been slightly lucky on their task. Inside those abandoned apartments, they were glad to know that only a trio of walkers still roamed those houses. After taking the cadavers outside, the place was great. Everybody picked one of the houses to rest for that night.

    The moonlight pierced through the windows, diverging straws of baby-blue rays across the rooms. It gave out an eerie, yet calming and elegant lightning to the studios they were living in.

    Victoria was cuddled underneath her sheets. She kept looping in her mind the images of that creatures that caused her to vomit. Despite trying to, she had long forgotten about the idea of being able to sleep. She stared at the ceiling nonstop, trapped in a limbo in which she just thought about what the future had in store for her…what those monsters had in store for her.

    In the adjacent house, Anson was the other one who wasn’t sleeping. Anson was sitting in a bench by the window; the sheets of the bed tangled for a night in which they wouldn’t be used. He had an arm leaned on the windowsill, that supported his head. The other hand clutched a photo of him five years younger but no different from today, accompanied by a lady that wrapped her arm around his neck.

    Anson was in hypnosis with that picture. The reason being was that the new girl – Victoria – reminded him so much of his ex-wife. In both appearance and personality. Within him, Anson felt an old but renewed spark ignite inside his heart. He was bound to spend the following hours regarding that photo, from twilight to sun-up.

    The utopian peace was broken in the middle of the night.

    Everything began when Victoria heard a noise during the night, being the one that was fully awake. She was a bit startled, flinching in her bed. She quickly tossed the blankets aside, leaping onto her feet. She crept toward the door, feeling a teensy dose of dread paving her spine.

    Opening the door, she spotted Anson outside the door of the house beside her. He stood in the hallway, looking at the stairwell that led to the pub. He noticed Victoria, and his head sprang towards her.

    “I heard something. What is it?” Victoria mumbled as low as she could.

    “No idea.” Anson said with a stiff expression. The sound repeated itself, making Victoria shudder. This time it was clearer – it resembled the noise of glass being broken. “I think somebody’s made their way in here, Vic.”

    Another example of Anson’s creepiness. Victoria disliked whatever stunt Anson was pulling here; he treated her like he already knew her before. First it was him prying into her business and wanting to know everything about her life, now it was him making up nicknames for her.

    Victoria turned her head once she heard a resounding creaking. She was relieved to see that it was just Andrey, Oliver and Jill exiting their rooms, all of them in pajama clothing. Victoria raised her brow once she noted that Oliver and Andrey were sleeping in the same house despite there being many vacant for the picking.

    “What the hell’s that noise?” Andrey demanded, with an unhappy face. Probably from the sleep interruption.

    “I dunno. Let’s check it out.” Anson instructed. The group formed a line behind him, as they marched as quiet as they could down the stairs and into the bar.

    “Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Oliver intervened.

    “Don’t be such a shit for brains! I think it’s better for us to verify if there’s some intruder lurking below than just quietly tuck away in our beds.” Anson replicated.

    “Yeah…you’re right…sorry.” Oliver excused himself in a bitter tone.

    A/N: Second and final part coming in the next few days. Sorry for the delay!

  • Awesome Chapter!!!

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death Episode 1 – Who We Once Were [FINALE Part 1] Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Day 4. Victoria Jill le

  • Well, shit...

    RIP Billy.

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death Episode 1 – Who We Once Were [FINALE Part 1] Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Day 4. Victoria Jill le

  • Well, looks like I'll need to think of a new character D:

    Nonetheless, it was a very emotional end to my character and I'm amazed at how well you pulled it off. Great writing as usual :D

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death Episode 1 – Who We Once Were [FINALE Part 1] Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Day 4. Victoria Jill le

  • Oh damn it, RIP Billy

    What would have happened with the other options? Specifically the [DON’T OBEY BILLY] option?

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death Episode 1 – Who We Once Were [FINALE Part 1] Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Day 4. Victoria Jill le


    Billy shoots Matt. The latter succumbs to his wound, and Billy is the one to survive.


    Matt shoots Billy, but it isn't before Billy gut-shoots Matt. Billy dies immdiately after, and as Matt gets a view through the tiny window in the basement, he falls down and slowly dies away.


    Matt tries to stab Billy, but Billy still shoots him. The ending was a bit similar to the option [DON'T OBEY BILLY].


    Matt does this, and distracts the walkers towards Billy. Billy's devoured, and Matt just barely manages to get up the stairs. But once he gets upstairs, he finds out that he's bit on the wrist. He stays still, butted against the closed door of the basement. Later, a character would find Matt in his condition. Matt would plead this survivor to finish his life. Matt would be put down.

    Oh damn it, RIP Billy What would have happened with the other options? Specifically the [DON’T OBEY BILLY] option?

  • Oh damn, in that case I think we made the right decision here. I still feel very sorry for Billy though, he was an interesting guy

    hihitwd posted: »

    [DON'T OBEY BILLY] Billy shoots Matt. The latter succumbs to his wound, and Billy is the one to survive. [PULL OUT YOUR GUN AND SHOOT

  • The Walking Dead: Life & Death. Who We Once Were – Episode 1 [FINALE Part 2]

    Madison, Finesse Clothing Store. Day 4.


    Bianca and Victor crouched down behind a couple of trees. The dense forest that cast a dome of shadow upon them surrounded them from all sides. Victor’s eyes often glanced in all direction, to verify that no walker was following them from the trees’ coverage. Victor whipped out of his binoculars from his pack and looked through them. He narrowed his eyes as the sunlight was intensified by the lenses.

    “What you see?” Bianca asked, regarding the horizon.

    Unlike the city of Atlanta – that showed only endless ruination – the town of Madison just looked abandoned. If it weren’t for the occasional newspaper flying by or the creak of a swinging hood from a wrecked car, one would say they were staring at a static image. Not a single soul roamed those streets, alive or undead. The silent and stagnant village was almost peaceful.

    “I see absolutely nothing.” Victor claimed, shoving his binoculars back into his bag.

    In front of them, there was a steep slope that they had to traverse, but further away, they spotted a simple building that was the clothing store Victor mentioned. It was a simple edifice, consisting of a rectangular shape of a wooden building, yet the store was held by stakes pinned to the ground, serving as a foundation.

    “Alright, let’s go.” Victor said. He reached into his belt, removing a lengthy steel knife that he clutched in his palm. “Be careful and stay down! That fluorescent suit is like a goddamn flare in the middle of the night.”

    “Yeah…fine.” Bianca replied, annoyed like a teenager in puberty being lectured.

    Victor went first. With caution, he sat on the muddy grass, and allowed gravity to slide him along the hill. He was careful not to gain too much speed, steadying himself with his hands. Once he reached the ground below, he set his feet firmly on the ground, looking around to see that they were clear of walkers. Bianca followed closely, as the dirt splashed onto her suit. Not that she cared though.

    Victor helped Bianca recompose herself. Bianca gently shoved his hands away. “C’mon…it’s just over there.” Victor beamed his finger towards the building that was situated near them.

    Victor and Bianca snuck up to it, keeping their eyes peeled for walkers. Glimpsing at the sky, Bianca deducted that it was gonna rain soon, due to the ashen sky and heavy, grey clouds that paired above them. “Know how to dispatch the frankensteins?”

    “The what?” Bianca inquired, twitching her eyebrows.

    “The dead.” Victor explained more clearly.

    “Oh.” Bianca said.

    “It’s a blow to the head. It’s either the brain, or nothing.” He clarified, heading towards the store’s back door.

    Victor opened the door. The hinges chirred, and Victor kept his ears attentive for any suspicious noise – whether it was a groan, a foot shuffle or a jaw clicking. Inside, they gathered their bearings. The shop didn’t have any signs of previous looting – the shattered windows being an exception. A labyrinth of hanged clothes turned the entire store into a maze. Victor banged on the doorframe with the butt of his weapon twice, but there was no response. Checking all directions, they were reassured that there weren’t any walkers around.

    “Do your picking.” Victor indicated at the wide variety of clothing, as he stood on his feet. “Don’t take too long. I’m gonna take a look out back.”

    Bianca headed towards the first rack. She inspected the various items, finding a multitude of leather jackets and coats. She was quite impressed at some of the brands, Channel, Gucci and Prada. She passed her fingers through the clothing without much enthusiasm. Even if she could afford them before the outbreak, she would never have bought those flashy, pink and futuristic-themed clothes. Plus, it wasn’t really ‘Survivor Style’. She glared at the front door, she wondered if it wasn’t best to just leave. She wasn’t glad being around Victor, and perhaps she would be way better on her own.

    Victor marched through the store, knife clutched in his hand. In all honesty, he wasn’t very focused. He was constantly wondering why he was doing these things for that ungrateful, weakling of a woman. For all he knew, she could be a murderer and slit his throat during his sleep. Plus, he knew that she didn’t have it in her to survive. He denied it to himself, but perhaps a shred of a more compassionate Victor still existed.

    Victor stopped in front of the warehouse door. He thought that maybe that place could have some goodies inside, probably some resilient tissues that no rotten teeth could pierce. Verifying that Bianca was still checking articles of coats, Victor opened the door.

    He was greeted with a quartet of lurkers shambling in the vast, dark room.

    “Oh fuck!” He hollered, before the closest zombie – a female with a dirty ponytail and a clerk vest – leaped on top of him. Before he could dodge, the walker’s weight tugged him down and Victor collapsed against the ground. His cranium banged against the floor and left him dizzy for a split second, whereas his vertebrae yelped in pain. The female walker dragged herself up his leg like a spider. Her nails, dark was petrol and sharp like daggers, squeezed his ankle and made him wail in ache.

    Victor essayed to shake her off, but the zombie had its claws sealed around his leg. Even worst, the remaining three zombies were now making their way towards him. Like the girl, they were all wearing uniform vests yet they were all males. “Bianca! A little help!”

    Victor gazed at Bianca with a frown, the fear stamped all over his face. Bianca seemed a bit baffled for a while, but she just froze in place. “Hey! Do something!” Victor yelled, keeping an eye on the approaching walkers.

    It was her opportunity. Bianca wielded her knife, before running in the opposite direction, towards the open door. Victor’s eyes almost bulged out of his orbits, seeing Bianca vanish away. “Bianca…! Please…! You dick…!”

    Bianca burst out the door. Only in that short sprint, she was unexpectedly struck by a hefty fatigue. She was forced to bend over, leaning on her knees while she panted heavily. She looked past her shoulder, but was shocked to see one of the lurkers standing by the door.

    Bianca instantly gave a step back, but then froze. Its bleak, unfocused eyes locked on her, and Bianca saw herself unable to move. She flinched when a blade penetrated its skull, traversing its entire brain while the edge stuck out through the end of his head. Once the corpse fell, she was surprised to see Victor alive, with his entire body drenched in muck.

    “I…” Bianca mumbled in a strangled word, now knowing that after what she did, Victor would seriously get pissed off.

    Victor ran up to her and pushed her along the grass. “Just get the fuck movin’ back to camp!”

    Atlanta Outskirts, Forest Shed. Evening 4.


    Bianca and Victor walked through the woods, Victor surveilling her closely from behind. He squandered time swiping off the specks of blood spread around his visage and clothing. A flaming tension hovered between the two, in which the two of them didn’t dare to say a single word.

    Once they reached the shed, Victor gave a gentle shove on Bianca’s spine, which just infuriated her. “What the fuck were you thinking back there?!”

    “What I was thinking?! I was running away from them!” She replicated in a louder tone, almost pretending that nothing had happened.

    “And leave me behind? I could’ve died you know!” Victor stated, despite knowing that Bianca knew that very well.

    “Hey, last time I checked, I ain’t your babysitter!” Bianca shouted, nearing his face towards his. Her eyes were spitting waves of rage and her eyebrows were furrowing.

    “I freakin’ saved your life, and honestly, I don’t know where your attitude’s coming from.” Victor barked back, his expression twisted in a mist of anger. “I’m not your babysitter either, but I helped you anyways. How about you reciprocate?”

    “But I didn’t ask you for help.” Bianca said, folding her arms.
    “Hey, you’re welcome to do whatever the hell you want with your pitiful life, but don’t kill me in the process.” Victor hollered, jabbing his finger in his own chest. “You can leave in the morning if you want to.”

    “Fine.” Bianca agreed in a high pitch.

    “You won’t last two days.” Victor declared, shaking his head whilst a quick grin was drawn on his face.


    Bianca and Victor turned their heads to the left, stretching out their eyelids. Standing a few feet away from them, there was a woman whose face they didn’t recognize. She had straws of blonde needles of hair swaying around her head, whilst her two eyeballs were adorned by two blue vast and deep oceans. She was half-immersed in the darkness of the forest, unsecured on whether to approach the strangers or fleeing.

    “Uh…” Victor rumbled, not quite knowing what to say.

    “Are you guys…you’re not bandits or something, right?” She asked in a sweet tone.

    “Not really…” Victor said, with a pause between the two words, due to the mix of surprise and frustration that ran through him.

    “My name’s Tina…” The girl introduced herself, taking a step forward. She was a young, beautiful lady, in her twenties.

    “Victor. Bianca.” Victor introduced them, still trying to adopt a softer tone to approach the stranger, but he still felt pretty pissed from his dispute with her.

    “I…I need help.” Tina confessed, her voice throbbing. She was forced to stop talking to swallow a lump in her throat. “My sister, Camille, and I are holding up in a place not far from here. We don’t have any supplies. We’ve been starving for a day now. She’s nine. I was wondering…you guys got any food to spare? I’d be much obliged.”

    Bianca and Victor exchanged a peek, not out of complicity, because they didn’t know what to do.



    A/N: Hi, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. A few personal issues have drawn me away from my writing, to which I excuse myself. I was becoming dreadful since it had been a while ever since I uploaded, so I leave you with this part. The 3rd part for the finale will come soon, showing the denouement of Victoria's story.


    Seems to be the right thing to do.

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death. Who We Once Were – Episode 1 [FINALE Part 2] Madison, Finesse Clothing Store. Day 4. Bianca Bia


    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death. Who We Once Were – Episode 1 [FINALE Part 2] Madison, Finesse Clothing Store. Day 4. Bianca Bia

  • edited April 2015

    Final chapter coming quite early. I've got the final draft ready, I'm just filling some blanks and editing.

    Some men just want to see the world burn...

  • Wheee!

    Some men just want to see the world burn...

    Now I'm scared. ;_;

    hihitwd posted: »

    Final chapter coming quite early. I've got the final draft ready, I'm just filling some blanks and editing. Some men just want to see the world burn...


    Awesome Chapter!

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death. Who We Once Were – Episode 1 [FINALE Part 2] Madison, Finesse Clothing Store. Day 4. Bianca Bia

  • Fire will be an element in the next chapter.

    Alt text

    Pipas posted: »

    Wheee! Some men just want to see the world burn... Now I'm scared. ;_;

  • edited April 2015

    Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Night 4.


    Anson opened the door to the emergency stairwell. A cold breeze, caused by the rare utilization of the stairs and the putrid smell emanated by cooling urine puddles, made Victoria’s hairs bristle and her spine shiver. Her bare feet shuffled along the dirty floor, in an attempt to warm them up.

    Anson paced down the stairs, the rest of the group following behind him. Albeit Victoria didn’t notice, Anson clutched in his hand a baseball bat. Oliver swept his hand through the wall to orient himself along the darkness. Andrey was already prepared for a fight if one was necessary. Jill grinded her teeth and scratched her index against the skin around her thumbnail.

    Once they reached the bottom, Anson opened the door.

    The bar was pitch black. The moonlight was the only light present, that just barely showed the contours of the objects around them, which stopped them from bumping against them. However, nobody was present. The quintet walked further into the room, before Oliver felt a crunch below his foot; broken glass shattered as she walked by.

    “Fuckin’ Christ! The windows are all broken!” Anson stated in an infuriated tone. They glanced towards the four windows that the pub comported, and despite the obscurity, it was clear that there was no more glass there.

    “What the…” Oliver mumbled, just when a projectile flew through the room.

    Victoria didn’t have time to react, just a glance of the object. It was of a rectangular shape, and a grimy rag was sticking out of it. She perceived this because the rag was on fire, and its flames enlightened the room for a split second.

    Anson immediately deducted it was a Molotov Cocktail.

    Anson opened his mouth to alert the others, but at the same moment, the homemade bomb crashed on the ground. An explosion blared with the brutality of a volcano eruption. The explosion blast sent the five people gliding through the air a few inches away, until gravity tugged them down and they collided against the ground.

    The flames started igniting the large pond of alcohol that was spilled throughout the bar, in a life-threatening yet majestic spectacle as the flames rose all the way to the ceiling. The gloomy night was lit by a vivid auburn color. Their ears were filled with grunts as they recuperated from the blast and the sound of fire crisping the edifice away. The fire was spreading towards the direction of the counter, where more alcoholic fuel could be found. The burning wood began creating smoke that was filling the room, clouding their vision.

    The wildfire was spreading quickly, half due to the wooden floor, half due to the splattered alcohol. Victoria, in a faltering pace, began opening her eyes, that were shut due to her natural corneal reflex. The bright light emitting from the fire forced her to keep her eyelids narrowed. The temperature was unbearable; her forehead was sweating and the oxygen was stuffy and hard to inhale. She began coughing and used her enclosed fist to cover her mouth. She was sitting on her derriere, preparing to stand up, before Oliver’s voice halted her.

    “Keep your heads down!” Oliver yelled, albeit the fumes didn’t allow Victoria to see him. “Don’t breathe the smoke in!”

    Victoria looked around her, frozen, not knowing what to do. She decided that it was best to obey Oliver, so she lied down on the floor, belly down, with enough of a stretch from the consuming flames.

    “AH! Son of a bitch!” Andrey screamed. Victoria jerked her head in all directions, but still couldn’t catch a glimpse of Andrey. She tried to pinpoint his location, but the scream could have come from anywhere.

    “Andrey! What’s wrong?!” Oliver barked at the top of his lungs, followed by a cough.

    “Stop squirmin’, dammit!” An unfamiliar voice said.

    “Who the hell is that?!” Jill demanded. As she finished her sentence, she heard the back door being open abruptly.

    “I dunno! They went through the back door!” Anson hollered.

    “ANDREY!” Oliver called out, but nobody answered. They could only listen to yelps that became more distant, whilst the conflagrations increased within the edifice.

    “Crawl to the back door!” Anson instructed. Following his command, everybody began crawl towards the outside.

    Atlanta, Back Alley. Night 4.


    Victoria burst out the open door. A cough attack made her bent in two, whilst her lungs complained with aches because of the smoke. She took a hefty breath, and was better once the pure, cold air pierced her lungs and made her feel freshened up.

    Oliver dashed out the door in a brute race, brushing past Victoria and almost knocking her down. His eyelids were peeled off, his glands secreting sweat non-stop, whilst he lurched his head in all directions.

    “Andrey!” Oliver shouted.

    Anson and Jill came out of the pub at final, coughing and clouting their hands with their forearms. Through the two voids of the broken windows, they could see the pub being engulfed in the flames.

    “There goes the business.” Anson said in a feeble voice, before a cough interrupted him.

    Oliver’s eyes locked on the silhouette of a man, who was dragging an unconscious Andrey towards a police car that was parked at the end of the back alley. He walked in a slow march, having trouble carrying Andrey who was heavy like a bull, and was hanging bent over his kidnapper’s shoulder.

    “Andrey!” Oliver hooted, breaking into a mad sprint towards the shadow of the man.

    The stranger opened the back door to the vehicle and threw Andrey inside it. Afterwards, with rapid footing, he entered the driver’s place and the car’s engine roared to life, whilst the headlights blinded Oliver.

    “No!” Oliver screeched while the car sped off into the night.

    “He’s gone.” Anson bluntly stated.

    “We gotta go get him!” Oliver said. “There’s a pick-up just ‘round the corner! I think it has its keys in the ignition.”

    “Let’s go!” Jill commanded.

    Victoria chased after Oliver, who ran faster than all of the other group members, and was fully focused on the task. Victoria was swallowed in a tide of mixed feelings. On one hand, things were happening too fast, and her stomach was nauseated, her face shone with sweat and her skin was pale like a ghost. Yet her veins were tingling with an odd sensation she’d never felt in her entire life: adrenaline. And it was fucking exciting.

    Oliver led the group towards a pick-up truck that was just around the corner. Taking a glimpse over her shoulder, Jill saw that the car still hadn’t picked up a lot of velocity and it was still close enough to be chased.

    Oliver hurtled inside the driver’s seat, whilst Victoria circled around the truck and entered the passenger’s seat. Since there wasn’t a second row seating, Anson and Jill leaped onto the rear cargo enclosure. They sat on the back so they wouldn’t be balanced off, and they readied their Glock 17 and compound bow respectively.

    Oliver switched on the engine, and stepped on the accelerator. The pickup made a guttural noise in response, before speeding after the police car.

    Oliver crushed the pedal, the frontal part of the truck almost touching the rear of the police car. “Calm down, Oliver! You’re gonna bump into him!” Victoria informed, hoping to calm him down.

    Oliver didn’t answer, he just tightened his fingers around the steering wheel and stiffened his eyebrows further. “Stabilize the car so I can shoot him!” Anson ordered, but Oliver still didn’t listen.

    The radiator struck the police car, rattling both vehicles. Victoria’s arms waved around in the air like she was a ragdoll. The tires on the pickup shrieked from the drift, while Oliver twisted the wheel in all directions to regain control of the vehicle, making the truck zigzag through the road. Jill was tossed around in the rear of the pickup, and despite her efforts to grip onto the side of the enclosure, she was balanced off at the same time that the pickup clashed against the façade of the fancy Woodfire Grill Restaurant.

    Atlanta, Woodfire Grill Restaurant. Night 4.


    Everything was a blur at first. Victoria widened her eyelids. The hood of the car had penetrated one of the walls that entirely made of glass windows, so it wasn’t a surprise that fragments of glass were omnipresent and that she has superficial cuts all around her body.

    The hood was dented and half torn apart. She was startled to see a few weak flames singing in the engine. Seeing this sent an energy through her veins, that fueled her to locate the handle of the door and open it.

    Victoria stepped out into the night, but succumbed to her knees on all four. Her nostrils were flaring and hyperventilating. Her cuts were stinging like bees. Lifting her head, she noticed that the police car had also crashed onto the building. However, there wasn’t no longer anyone inside it.

    Victoria heard a door’s hinges creaking behind her. Victoria got up, leaning herself on her kneecaps to stand straight.

    “H-help!” Jill cried out in a strangle sentence.

    Victoria turned her head towards the sound and her jaw dropped as she viewed a horrifying scenario. Jill was lying on the ground, and one of the iron rods that used to be a part of the window façade, was now impaling her through the shoulder and bent in an acute angle.

    Victoria felt her eyes watery as she jogged towards Jill and kneeled beside her. She jolted her head a little and saw Anson lying on the ground, his open mouth full of dirt and his glasses shattered in half. “Oh my God…”

    Jill used her other hand to wrap her fingers around the rod, that was solidly welded into the ground. “I can’t…get up…with this thing in my shoulder.“ Her voice was failing and low.


    Victoria spun around in her squatting position, and saw Oliver standing a few feet away from her. He was clutching his injured arms, and one of his eyes was shuttered. “He went through that alleyway!” He said, jabbing his finger towards nearest passage between two buildings.

    Jill grasped Victoria’s arm. “Don’t…please…don’t leave me…”

    “C’mon, Victoria! He’s gonna get away!” Oliver maintained, waving his arm towards the alley.



    A/N: Here goes the end. Remember that the character submission is always open, so if your character dies and if you wish to, you can always submit another character. Also, if you have trouble following character statuses, there’s a link above that tells the status of every character.

    Also, big question: do you guys prefer individual stories or would you rather follow a story with a more central point-of-view? The second option wouldn’t mean that there would be less characters, but the characters would be together most of the time and switching stories would be rare.

    I might write a preview for the next episode, but it probably won’t be too long, since it would spoil way too much for the next part. Thanks for reading.

  • edited April 2015


    The sun shone over the K.G. abandoned car factory.

    Steve regained conscience. He was sitting in a dark and bleak room, his fists shackled together with chains.

    Matt hadn't moved an inch. He had spent numerous hours in his kneeled position. His body was numb and he felt a growing ache in his right femur. The zombies were long gone. The door creaked open, and a man walked into the room.

    "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me." The man said, followed by a grin. "Psalm 23:4. It's this kind of faith I'll show you guys. Through pain and suffering, with the eventual reward of death, you shall find salvation."

    The zombified military captain, identified by his tag that said 'Cpt. Banner', looked towards the abandoned factory. The zombie captain limped towards it, as an immense horde formed behind him.



    Oh god, please don't leave her D:

    Also, big question: do you guys prefer individual stories or would you rather follow a story with a more central point-of-view?

    I would prefer the first one. I enjoy these individual stories very much.

    hihitwd posted: »

    Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Night 4. Victoria Anson opened the door to the emergency stairwell. A cold breeze, caused by the rare util

  • Thanks for reading and stating your opinion. But if you help Jill, the repercussions on Andrey might not be so good...

    [STAY WITH JILL] Oh god, please don't leave her Also, big question: do you guys prefer individual stories or would you rather foll

  • edited April 2015

    Sure, but Jill is my character, so I'm a bit biased towards her and naturally like her way more than Andrey :D I also think if Victoria leaves her like that, she might die. Oliver is the guy who wants to leave a wounded and defenseless girl, so if he gets in trouble it's his own fault for running of like that. If they instead go all together, with Jill and a conscious Anson, they have a better chance of helping Andrey either way.

    hihitwd posted: »

    Thanks for reading and stating your opinion. But if you help Jill, the repercussions on Andrey might not be so good...


    And I'm fine with individual stories as long as there aren't gazillion of different PoVs.

    hihitwd posted: »

    Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Night 4. Victoria Anson opened the door to the emergency stairwell. A cold breeze, caused by the rare util

  • Don't worry, I'll keep the POVs at a minimum.

    Pipas posted: »

    [STAY WITH JILL] And I'm fine with individual stories as long as there aren't gazillion of different PoVs.


    This is a very cool story. I just read all of it and like it a lot. I submitted a character!

    hihitwd posted: »

    Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Night 4. Victoria Anson opened the door to the emergency stairwell. A cold breeze, caused by the rare util

  • edited April 2015

    I see that this is more than "Save or Leave" decision, this can even cause the death of someone, regardless of the decision to choose. I'll have to analyze the reasons for my choice.

    Why would I stay with Jill?

    • She'll probably die if left behind. +5 points.
    • I think that even following the kidnapper, Andrey will still stay with him for a good time. +3 points.
    • The kidnapper can shoot and end up killing Victoria and Oliver. +4 points.
    • Jill is a nice character. +1 point.

    Total points: 14

    Why would I chase the stalker with Oliver?

    • Oliver is my second favorite character (behind Victory, which is my only character). +1 point.
    • Perhaps it is dangerous to stay behind. +4 Points.
    • Andrey can be saved. +3 Points.
    • Can stimulate the relationship between Oliver and Victoria. +2 points.

    Total points: 10

    So it's clear that the best choice is [STAY WITH JILL]

    I prefer individual stories, can give us better opportunity to know other characters and gives more moments in the story.

    hihitwd posted: »

    Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Night 4. Victoria Anson opened the door to the emergency stairwell. A cold breeze, caused by the rare util

  • Thanks for your comment, and I liked your little list of arguments about the two choices and I like how it favors both sides.

    TheUnkGuy posted: »

    I see that this is more than "Save or Leave" decision, this can even cause the death of someone, regardless of the decision to choose. I'll

  • I'm much obliged, I'm glad you like this story. Thanks for the character and hopefully you'll follow the story for the long haul!

    janitor posted: »

    [STAY WITH JILL] This is a very cool story. I just read all of it and like it a lot. I submitted a character!

  • edited April 2015

    Nothing to see here...

    janitor posted: »

    [STAY WITH JILL] This is a very cool story. I just read all of it and like it a lot. I submitted a character!

  • Alt text

    hihitwd posted: »

    Nothing to see here...

  • edited April 2015

    Alt text

    Shit, they're onto us.


    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death. Who We Once Were – Episode 1 [FINALE Part 2] Madison, Finesse Clothing Store. Day 4. Bianca Bia

  • edited April 2015

    Oh shoot, I forgot to add these...


    • 25% chose to go their own way

    • 75% chose to follow Victor


    • 75% chose to reason with Billy

    • 25% chose to stab Billy

    • 0% chose to shoot, disobey or distract the walkers towards Billy


    • 50% chose to keep Big Paw caged

    • 50% chose to release Big Paw


    • 100% chose to help Tina

    • 0% chose not to help Tina


    • 80% chose to stay with Jill

    • 20% chose to chase the stalker with Oliver


    Oh god please don´t let him go alone D:

    Awesome Chapter!

    hihitwd posted: »

    Atlanta, The Barnard’s Pub. Night 4. Victoria Anson opened the door to the emergency stairwell. A cold breeze, caused by the rare util

  • And individual stories better

    supersagig posted: »

    [CHASE THE STALKER WITH OLIVER] Oh god please don´t let him go alone Awesome Chapter!

  • Hi guys. I've been planning out Episode 2 of the story, and it's actually coming out quite well. I just wanted to tease that a part of the story will take place in the Pratt-Pullman Engineering Building. I like using real locations, because it makes the story more realistic.

    Here's a picture so that you guys can visualize the place:

    Alt text

  • edited April 2015

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil

    Atlanta, Forest. Night 4.



    “Tell you what…” Victor said, as he glissaded his backpack off his shoulders. It fell on the ground. He squatted down and unzipped it. He searched inside, pushing aside various items on the interior, until he removed a trio of food cans. “I’ll give you this. It’s all I have.”

    Bianca folded her arms and shot a glare at Victor, while Tina’s blue eyes fixed on the rations glowed. Victor marched up to her and deposited the cans in her thin arms that could barely carry them. “Thank you.” The girl replied, as she put the items inside her bag.

    Victor placed his hands on his hips. “So…I guess you can scoot now.”

    “I’m afraid that’s not happening.” Tina answered, but this time in a severely threatening tone, the sweet voice gone.

    Victor stiffened his eyebrows and Bianca straightened once they heard those words. In the fraction of a second, Tina whipped out a Glock 17 from her backpack and shot at Victor.

    “Shit!” Victor hollered and recoiled backwards as the sharp pain pierced his leg. The ache in his lower limb made his fall to the dirt. He hit the ground hard, but the mud and grass made the fall less painful.

    Victor’s nostrils were flaring as he clutched his wound. Raising his head a little, he saw a small circle perforated in his leg that was spewing out blood like a geyser and soaked right through his jeans. “Son of a bitch!” He barked, followed by continuous yelps and a hefty breathing.

    Bianca froze with a terrified expression upon her visage. Not because she had much affection with Victor, but because she didn’t expect Tina to reveal herself as a dangerous person. As she looked at her, she clasped a Glock 17 in her fingers, and beamed it at Bianca.

    “What the fuck?!” Bianca exclaimed, the shock from the sudden event dissipating. “He helped you!”

    “Shut the fuck up!” Tina responded, her phrase followed by Victor’s wails and his movements as he rocked himself around on the ground, in a futile attempt to ease the pain. “Come here! Come here, girl!”

    Bianca raised her hands, and with all caution, she strolled towards Tina. “Pick him up!”

    “What? I don’t want to haul him!” Bianca complained.

    “Just do it! Or I’ll shoot you!” Tina menaced, jolting her weapon.

    Bianca walked up to Victor and crouched down. She grabbed his arms and slipped it around her neck, then utilized all of her strength to pull him up. Victor was forced to use his other to boost himself up, because Bianca would never have the force to pull him up on her own. Victor’s face and clothes were covered in mud and filth. His screaming had diminished, now reduced to vague winces and brief sniffles.

    Tina sauntered behind Victor and Tina. “Okay. Now get to moving in that direction.” Tina commanded, jabbing the barrel of her pistol toward a direction in the forest.

    Bianca walked towards where she indicated, with Victor limping with an arm over her neck.

    Atlanta, Woodfire Grill Restaurant. Night 4.



    “I’m not leaving her!” Victoria told Oliver in a determined tone as she tapered her brows. She couldn’t believe what Oliver was doing; he was being stupid and he was willing to let Jill die just to chase the stalker. She knew he meant well, but she couldn’t stand on the same ground as him in that situation.

    Oliver looked back and forth at Victoria and the alleyway. “Just stay with her, okay?!” He said, already in march towards the alley, before he sprinted off into the passage, disappearing out of eyesight.

    Victoria sighed with a heavy breath, pinching her nose bridge. She looked back at Jill, and inspected her wound. The rod had gone clean through, and its black iron was clouted with a coating of crimson blood. Despite her not having the medical knowledge to know it, her acromion bone had been displaced and a chunk of it had been shattered into multiple fragments due to the impact and her right arm would probably be out of commission for a long while, if not forever.

    Jill’s eyes were watery and glassy. She gripped the rod like she thought she could rip it off, as a tear streamed down the side of her face. “Fuck…please…take me off this thing…it hurts so friggin’ much!”

    Victoria’s eyes were peeled off as she gazed at the injury. She had never been in a scenario like this and she was totally clueless on what to do. Her mouth drooped and she was humming, trying to think of something to say. She ran her shaking hands through her hair.

    “I’m, uh…I’m gonna…I’m just gonna yank you off, okay?” Victoria said.

    Jill looked her right in the eyes. “Do it…quick…”

    “Okay…alright…okay…” Victoria rambled, in a way to soothe herself. She gripped one of her arms with her left hand, the other with the right hand. She tightened her fingers around her arms, so tight that even Jill was feeling an acute pain in that area and Victoria had her fingers blanched. “Ready?”

    Jill did an almost imperceptible nod. “Okay, on three. One…”

    Victoria yanked Jill out of the rod. Jill screamed so loud that the pitch rang out and was heard for miles. The sound of the rod tearing away at the shoulder as Victoria wrenched Jill off made Victoria close her eyes from the macabre noise.

    However with just that one good yank, Jill was on a sitting position, clear of the rod.

    Jill had tears running down the corners of her eyes and covered her wound. Blood slithered its way through the gaps between her fingers. Victoria grinded her teeth, thinking that maybe she had hurt Jill too much.

    “You yelled so loud you woke me up.” Anson said, as she stormed into the scene as he wiped his shirt with his palms.

    Victoria lugged her head to the side and saw that Anson was no longer lying fainted on the gravel; he was now leaning against the hood of the wrecked car whilst catching his breath. He looked much different without his glasses; looked less smart and less old-styled. The meager hay-straws of his moustache were dusty and his hair erecting in different directions.

    An animalistic growl caught the three people’s attention. They turned their heads to the left, and saw a walker hobbling towards them. This one was a probably a waiter; it wore a white shirt splattered with muck along with a muddy apron. His jaws were drowning in blood, maybe from a recent killing. The worst part was that in the faraway streets, more lurkers began gathering and limping towards their location.

    “Fuck.” Anson sputtered, recoiling back and inspecting their surroundings.

    Victoria helped Jill up, who could walk, but her injuries still affected her promenading that was somewhat crippled. Anson fixed his regard upon a gun store located in the corner of the avenue. “Over there!”

    Atlanta, House In The Forest. Night 4.


    Hours had passed. Minutes ticked by. Seconds speeded away.

    Matt had lost track of how much time he had spent on his knees, before the corpse of his friend. The blood puddle leaking from his cranium grew bigger, and now doused the tip of Matt’s trousers. His face was moistened with sweat and tears, and reflected the dim light that penetrated the basement. His legs had cramps, but he barely felt them.

    The walkers were gone. He deduced that due to the absence of moans or battering at the door. The door had surprisingly held through the attack, despite it being splintered and scratched on.

    The last few hours – or perhaps endless minutes – had been the worst in Matt’s life. His heart was butchered into particles of never-ending, excruciating pain and added an invisible yet heavy weight to his chest. He had stopped crying. Not because he felt better, because he didn’t have any more tears to taste.

    The door creaked open, but Matt didn’t even pay attention to that. He listened to the stranger’s long breathing, and the wooden stairs squawked with each step he or she gave. The walking ceased. The guy or gal stopped climbing down the stairs.

    The stranger kept walking, and Matt could feel the person nearing him.

    “Hey. You’re not a bagged human or anything, right?” A man with a French-accent spoke.

    Matt didn’t even turn his head to face the stranger. The man stood beside him. Matt could only catch a glimpse of him through his peripheral vision, but due to the darkness, he couldn’t tell any details about his appearance.

    “Go away.” Matt mumbled in a cold and hushed tone. He lowered his head further.

    The man looked at the gory corpse with a frown, as he folded his arms. “He turn on you or you turned on him?”

    Matt didn’t answer. The man wrecked his brain, searching for something else to say as he scrawled his hair.

    “Look, uh…I’ll be honest. You’re a legitimately creepy guy.” He said. “I’m Donatien. I know right? Long ass name. Just call me Don.”

    Matt prolonged the silence for over a few seconds. “Are you gonna kill me? If you are…just do it. Make it quick.”

    “What? No!” Don replied with an intonation of denial. “I ain’t gonna kill you. Look, I don’t know what in the minimal fuck happened here, so…how about you get up, go get some fresh air, and we’ll do this introduction thingy.”

    Don touched Matt’s shoulder, but the teenager slapped his hand away and got up in a brusque and violent way.

    “Don’t fucking touch me!” Matt shouted, panting heavily.

    “Woah! Chill, dude!” Don soothed him down, making a peaceful gesture with his hands. A delicate portion of light lit his wrinkled and aging face, contrasted by emerald eyes and a saggy ball cap. “It’s okay…it’s okay…I’m cool. I ain’t gonna hurt you or anything. This is…less you try to hurt me. Sounds fair right?”

    Matt dodged his gaze away. “Whatever.”

    “Mind telling me your name?” Don asked.

    Matt drew another breath. “Matt.”

    “Okay, Matt…now mind explaining me why where you standing like a statue in front of a dead body?” Don said.

    Matt scrubbed his face, essaying to clean his tears and sweat away. His facial features were red and sticky from all the bodily fluids drenching him, and his t-shirt was almost glued onto his torso.

    “Would you mind just leaving me alone?” Matt said in a softened voice. “If you want, take the house. Just leave me alone.”

    “Oh-kay…” Don responded in a blunt manner. “I don’t know what happened between you and the guy there, but I assume you’re sorta…mad about it? I can be your buddy, man! Trust me, you don’t wanna stay alone. Not in this place, for sure. Too many windows, for some reason the main door is wide open…I closed it by the way. I don’t think you have much of a chance here.”

    “I’ll make it.” Matt assured, more like of an empty phrase though. “If I don’t…like I care.”

    “Look, man, we don’t know each other from fuckin’ Adam, but you’re definitely disturbed.” Don chuckled in an arbitrary manner. “I can help you. I’m offering to. This place isn’t good to live in. You can come with me.”

    “Where to?” Matt inquired out of curiosity, although he wasn’t sure that he would agree to do it.

    “Jesus fucking Christ, I dunno.” Don stated, shrugging his shoulders. “I got a pickup.” He indicated by jabbing his thumb towards the door. “We tip this place over, load what we can in the truck, and just let the roads guide us. What do you think? Up for a little road trip?”

    Matt didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure if he should go with Don, but he had no wish to stay alone in the house. He feared that if he did so, he would become insane, perhaps even contemplating suicide. He didn’t know anything about surviving. He couldn’t even maneuver a gun.

    Perhaps some distance from that place was what he needed.

    He shifted his attention towards Billy. “I wanna give him a proper burial.”

    Don sighed, like he was frustrated that he would have to do some physical work. He placed his hands on his hips and looked around the basement. “If it makes you happy. You better hope the coot who lived here had shovels, ‘cause I’m not digging with my bare hands.”

    Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Building. Night 4


    Steve woke up with a jostle. Opening his eyelids, he noticed that he was immersed in complete darkness. He rectified his position by butting his back against the brick wall. His vertebrae cracked, which caused a breath to escape Steve’s mouth. In the obscure oblivion, all he saw was bizarre patterns that his brain created in his mind’s eye. The only light visible came from a chasm that was situated below the sole door in the room.

    Steve moved a little in his sitting position, only to hear metal elements clapping against each other. He looked down, but he only saw bleakness. However he felt that his wrists were shackled with some kind of restraint, probably handcuffs.

    “Fuck.” Steve mumbled.

    Steve gaped in all directions, wondering what to do. Within the absolute silence, he could hear beads of water dropping down a pipe and the occasional moaning of a passerby walker.

    “Hello?” He said out loud. He already expected the lack of response, but he didn’t know what else he could do.

    Steve lowered his head and shuttered his eyelids in order to think straight. The last thing he remembered was falling to the ground after he was struck in the nape by a blunt object. Remembering that made him aware of his stiff neck that seemed to be made of wood. The next memory that surfaced was his pet panther entering the horde and…

    Steve shook his head, to dissolve those memories into the past. Recalling that fatidic moment generated a weight in his chest and he felt his heart being stabbed by an invisible dagger.

    A raspy noise made him snap his head towards the door. He crawled towards it, toward the segment of light.

    When he reached it, he noticed that the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor was actually spaced out, perhaps four centimeters. A tray was slipped through the gap, and Steve inspected the contents. He saw a plate with a thin layer of beans, along with a spoon.

    Steve glanced at the door. “Hey! Who’s there?!”

    “I’m Luis.” The guy introduced himself. “What’s your name?”

    Steve wanted to berate at the man, roaring to let him out. But he reconsidered. He thought that if he wanted to escape whatever that place was, it would be better to keep a level-head.

    “Steve.” He replied. He planned every word of his carefully. “What is this place? Why am I here?”

    “I’m sorry…I can’t tell you those things.” Luis said.

    Steve bit his lip and silently cursed. “You guys gonna kill me? Just…be honest with me. Please.”

    The silence on the other side almost served as an answer. “I don’t know. George will have to decide it.”

    “George? Who’s he?” Steve interrogated, believing that he was making progressing in extorting infro

    “He’s our leader. He…he keeps us from harm’s way.” Luis explained.

    “Luis…just let me go.” Steve pleaded. He regretted just a few seconds later; he was probably a bit too hasty on saying that. “I’ll…I’ll go away and you’ll never see me again.”

    “I…I can’t let you go.” Luis said in a hesitating stammer. “George would be pissed. I have to go. I…shouldn’t even have talked to you.”

    “Wait, Luis…Luis…Luis!” Steve called out, raising his voice a little bit. But the man was already gone. Steve punched the door in fury, causing a metalling rumble.

    Steve sighed, looking down at the mass of beans. His stomach growled at the sight of food, and he pondered if he should eat the food. For all he knew, it could be poisoned or something, but if he would be imprisoned for the long-term, he didn’t know how frequent eating was.


    [DON’T EAT]

    Atlanta, Red Target. Night 4.


    Anson kicked the door in, whilst Victoria hauled Jill inside the gun store after Anson had entered. Once they were in the interior, Anson closed the door but it wavered a bit back. The lock had been broken; meaning the door couldn’t close.

    “Fuck.” Anson grunted between teeth, looking around him for a decent piece of furniture to barricade the door. His gaze became fixed on an empty stack of shelves.

    While Victoria carried Jill further into the store – which was mainly made out of posters announcing discounts on certain guns or vacant shelves – Anson shove the stack of shelves in front of the door.

    Once the door was barricaded, Anson leaned against the wall and kept on the lookout to see if any walkers hadn’t lost them. Victoria inspected the room, and spotted a dirty mattress. Although it wasn’t the most hygienic mat, it was a comfortable place to lay Jill down.

    With all care, Victoria slowly kneeled down with Jill mimicking her movements. Victoria placed her stretched out on the cot. Victoria then intertwined her fingers into a shell and compressed them against Jill’s wound.

    Jill wailed. “Jesus…easy…!”

    “Sorry.” Victoria excused herself.

    Anson deemed that at least for the moment, they were safe. He walked away from the door and marched through the store, checking the place out with his eyes. He was disappointed to see that there wasn’t a sole gun they could use – they had probably all been looted in the first few days – however he smiled once he saw a barred cabinet that despite missing two pistols, contained three Glocks 17 along with two M4s assault rifles and five boxes full of bullets.

    Most importantly of all, he saw a medkit.

    Victoria jerked her head to the side and saw the first-aid kit. “Anson, can you go get that kit? We could use it to fix Jill’s arm.”

    Anson made an agreeing sound followed by a nod, before he walked up to the cabinet. He wrapped his fingers around the handle, but when he pulled to open it, it didn’t open.

    “It’s shut tight. Locked. We need a key.” Anson stated. He swept his eyes through the room and looked at a door situated in the corner that had a plaque saying ‘OFFICE’.

    “Maybe the key will be in there.” Victoria suggested.

    “It has to. If someone had the key, they would’ve taken the guns already, don’t you think?” Anson said, walking up to the door. “You coming?”

    Victoria was about to open her mouth to say that it would be best to stay with Jill, but the latter intervened. “Just go…I’ll be fine.”

    “This is a serious wound.” Victoria riposted. “I can’t just leave you alone.”

    “It’s okay, I can go alone.” Anson told them, revolving the handle and letting the door swing on its hinges. “This way, in case there are biters in there, you won’t be harmed.”

    A/N: I hope you liked the chapter. I went a long way to upload it quick, so give me some credit! Question of the day, and an important one: which characters do you find yourselves liking the most?

  • I'm glad that Jill is somewhat safe, or at the very least alive, good thing we helped her. Though both she and my other character Victor are pretty seriously wounded... well, it could have been worse for both of them. Tina however is a bitch and I hope there will be a very brutal death coming for her soon.


    Poisoning food makes little sense if they want to kill him. They captured him alive for a reason, I think they would have just killed him on spot or would use a method that is less complicated if they want him dead.

    which characters do you find yourselves liking the most?

    Naturally I like Jill and Victor and hope that they survive their current injuries. I also find Anson intriguing even though he gives me a bad feeling and is not very sympathetic. However, if we go for likeability I think Steve is pretty likeable as a character, the same goes for Jill and Andrey. From the PoV's I probably find Bianca to have the most interesting character and Victoria to have the most interesting story.

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil Atlanta, Forest. Night 4. Bianca [HELP TINA] “Tell you wha

  • Victor is an awesome character, so I have to thank you for the great character! I like how he isn't neither a good person or a bad person. It makes writing his character much more interesting, as I like to balance his actions between bad and good Victor.

    I'm glad that Jill is somewhat safe, or at the very least alive, good thing we helped her. Though both she and my other character Victor are

  • Well, that Tina plot twist was unexpected.


    As for the favourite characters, Victoria is my favourite POV and Victor is my favourite non-POV. that I've written it, it sounds pretty funny. Victor and Victoria. What a coincidence.

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil Atlanta, Forest. Night 4. Bianca [HELP TINA] “Tell you wha

  • I'm glad you like him. I enjoyed creating him a lot and I absolutely love how you have written him so far!

    hihitwd posted: »

    Victor is an awesome character, so I have to thank you for the great character! I like how he isn't neither a good person or a bad person. I


    My favourite character so far is Victor but I also like Victoria, Steve and Jill. Favourite POV is Victoria.

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil Atlanta, Forest. Night 4. Bianca [HELP TINA] “Tell you wha


    [Eat Food] Why not?

    Ans favourite POV Bianvca and non-POV character Tina! :D

    hihitwd posted: »

    The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil Atlanta, Forest. Night 4. Bianca [HELP TINA] “Tell you wha

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