The Walking Dead: Misery Ch. 1

Chapter 1: The Viper and the Dixon

She sighs and looks at the city through her binoculars, the decaying buildings casting eerie shadows over the silent streets as the sun went down. Under those shadows loomed the walking dead, limping and shambling across the streets, their bodies decaying horridly, looking for something, anything to devour. She set her binoculars down and walked back down to her campfire, watching the flames lick the sky. She took the dead squirrel and began to cook it.

A ruffling sound from the woods echoed. She blinked and quickly scrambled for her combat knife, standing up slowly. She walked towards the moving plants, watching a shadow move. It moved slowly, yet far too fast to be a mere zombie. She raised her knife in the air, her hand before her to pull it down and sink the knife into his or her decaying skull. Her heart began to beat rapidly, and her nerves became wracked, like delirious live wires shooting up her arms, then to her neck and finally her eyes, making them twitch constantly in fear. A foot stepped out of the plants. And she walked forward, ready to plunge it into the body.

"WHOA! HOLY SHIT!" The figure stepped back and pointed a pitch-black crossbow at her head, the bolt aimed directly at the very center of her forehead. She fell back and landed on her back on the ground, eyeing the figure with wide eyes. He was an attractive man, not-so-pale skin, with his light-brown hair parted to the side; his green eyes squinted as he studied his possible victim. He wore combat boots and jeans, a sleeveless shirt, three buttons opened on his chest. He eyed her, studying her with the precision of a hunter.

She had long black hair, wavy as it reached down to her back, her bangs parted in the middle, framing her face heart-shaped face. She had big brown eyes, her lips full and parted as she breathed. She was slender, common for women her age. Black tank-top, tight jeans and combat boots. Young. "W-who are you? A-are you bitten?" She asked eyes still wide in fear and shock. She remained on the ground, unable to move. Her body trembled. "I could ask them same of you," he responded. He began to lower his crossbow… a girl as frightened as she was couldn't possibly pose any harm whatsoever. He took out the bolt and put it back in his quiver, never keeping his eyes off of her. "Name's Daryl. Daryl Dixon. And I can assure you, I ain't bit. You?" She slowly scrambled back up onto her feet and dusted off her butt. "Um… Leia. Leia Vipers. I'm not bitten…" She turned to her campfire, and pointed to it lightly, "You um… you want to eat something?" Daryl looked up at her and extended his hand for her to shake. She shook it and yelped, clearly startled by his strength. He nodded and sat down slowly.

She sat on a log and tossed him an already cooked squirrel. "You eat squirrels?" He asked and looked up at her, twirling the animal in between his fingers as he observed it, curious. "It tastes good?" She nodded slowly and sank her teeth down into her own cooked squirrel, "yes, actually… try it." He shrugged and bit off a chunk without any remorse, raising his eyebrows and nodding as he chewed, "mmm… it is. Huh." She nodded and smirked gently, watching him. The fire created an orange tint on his masculine face, his stubble taking in the orange hue. He looked up at her and she averted her eyes. She looked nervous and heavily frightened, even if she was trying to compose herself. He wondered how a girl with that kind of look could survive out in the wilderness, where a zombie can come from behind her and attack her.

"So… why's a girl like you out here all alone?" He asked, trying to make conversation with her to break the awkward silence, and to calm her down even a little. She looked up at him and took another bite of her squirrel, the poor thing thankfully dead, so he didn't have to feel the pain of human teeth piercing and ripping at its flesh. "Um… I'm looking for my parents. My mother to be exact. I'm heading back to where I used to live to see if I can find them." "Your mom only? What about your dad?" He noticed her twitch. The question struck a nerve. "I don't care what happens to that sick son of a bitch…" she whispered and looked up at him with piercing eyes, as if she wanted to glare. He nodded, "trust me… I couldn't care less 'bout my dad either." She looked at him; her eyes showed a small glimmer. Sympathy. "So why are you out here? Looking for someone too?" She finished her squirrel and tossed the carcass aside. He sank his teeth into it and nodded. Chew, chew, swallow, and toss aside the carcass. "Yeah. My brother to be exact. You haven't seen 'im have you?" Leia blinked and tilted her head to the side, "um… maybe? What does he look like?" "Tall and pale. Kinda buff. Bald. Leather jacket." She thought for a moment and slowly shook his head. "Not… not really. I don't remember seeing anyone like him on my way here." She reached over to grab a camera.

He furrowed his brows and watched her fidget with it, listening to the beeps of the buttons. "You're a photographer?" She nodded and a slow smile broke across on her face, as if talking about photography gave her some kind of inner peace, "yes. I am. I used to be a freelance photographer, and I worked with bands too so…" "Wow. Fun. Bands like Motorhead and such?" She suddenly let out a low laugh, and he cracked a smile. "Yeah. I worked with Lemmy a couple of times. He was a really nice guy. Really cool." Daryl let a laugh break from his mouth. "That's badass. Why'd you bring your camera out, tho'?" "Well… I like to believe there is beauty in everything." Daryl just had to stop her, "whoa whoa whoa… surely you ain't tellin' me you actually see beauty in the faces of them zombies." She laughed again and shook her head, "obviously not but… other things. When I see something I deem beautiful, I take a picture of it. It'd be a waste if I someday get, I don't know, Alzheimer's or something and just forget about it." Daryl nodded wisely, acknowledging her philosophy. Whatever made her happy, he guesses. "Mind if I take a look?" She looked up at him suddenly, her eyes showing surprise. "Um… sure…" She gave him her camera and smiled gently when he took it.

He messes and pokes the camera and finally manages to find the button that shows him the picture gallery. His eyes widen ever so slightly, impressed with her work. She took all kinds of pictures. Flowers. Insects. Mountains. The sea. A sunset. A sunrise. A homeless man holding a paper that says 'The End is near' and another homeless that held up a tiny napkin that read 'I have two children and a wife with cancer.' His eyes widen once more, passing by all the pictures. And then he stops at the photo of a nice-looking lady with blond hair and light brown eyes. She looked very much like an older version of Leia, "this your mom?" He shows her the picture. She looks at it and nods slowly, "yes. Before the outbreak. I took the picture from the ones I had framed at home." "None of your dad." "Nope." She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, watching as he kept sifting through the photographs. "Whoa! Rob Halford?" He stopped suddenly and showed her the picture of her with Rob Halford. She nodded with a smile as he kept passing through them, looking at all the bands she's photographed. Motley Crue. Motorhead. Judas Priest. Even Metallica. He smiled and gave it back to her, "I'm impressed. Those are some really good photographs." She smiled gently. "Thanks."

She stood up suddenly, the sun having gone down finally. She walked towards her sleeping bag and started to open it. "Um… I assume you'll be on your way then? You have to go look for your brother, and I have to go look for my mother. You can stay the night and leave in the morning if you want to. It'd be a shame that I come across you again, but as a zombie." He crossed his arms, putting his hands under his armpits, "you don't think I can take care of myself?" "I do. But you never know, you know?" She looked at him and he nodded. "Good point. Alright then, I'll stay." She looked around, "You can have my bag. I can sleep out here. Besides, there's a river really nearby. I can just bathe tomorrow." Before Daryl even protested, she set her messenger bag filled with weapons and her spare digital camera on the floor, fluffed it for comfort and lay himself down. Daryl sighed and shook his head, and reluctantly curled himself inside the sleeping bag.

Her eyes stared at the stars above, twitching. She was sure that this stranger would be gone very early from the campsite. So she took out her camera and pointed it at his direction discreetly. He was also looking up at the stars, still not asleep. She snapped a picture of him and quickly returned to her position. He looked over at her and tilted his head to the side, "and that sound…?" "I took a picture of the sky. Sorry." She lied and smirked discreetly to herself. He nodded gently and looked back up at the starry sky and closed his eyes, falling asleep rather quickly. Leia had a harder time falling asleep, but she did, eventually.

And as she fell to sleep… memories slowly creeped behind her, covering her mouth so she could not scream… "Stop…"
"Stop moving Leia… it'll hurt so much more if you keep moving…"
"Please stop… it hurts…"
"Leia… I'm going to… I'm close…"
"NO…!"
And she screams the rest of the night away, his laughs echoing right behind her screams and pleas.

To be Continued in Chapter 2: New Challenges