I Ain't Gonna Let You Die
The only sounds that I could hear were my own sobs mixed with light whimpering from the great man beside me and the low, hungry growls of the once great man in front of us. I looked at the horrifying sight before me and several more painful sobs escaped my chapped lips. The man next to me, my was to be brother-in-law, Daryl, rose from his knees and grasped the hunting knife he had in his hand tighter. I too stood, much more shakily than he had and wiped my nose clean of the snot that had began to drip out of it. Daryl began to cry, a first for me and for him in a long while.
“We gotta-- we gotta do something… Anything!” I forced myself to say to him.
“I know it, girly...” He spoke lightly. Daryl and I stared on as the once strong, living man that we knew staggered towards us.
He was as dead as dead can be in the world that we now inhabited. He growled and groaned as he inched forward, blood and leftover innards falling from his sloppy mouth. Once in arms reach, Daryl sobbed out loudly and shoved him back forcefully. I stood there, not knowing what to do; not wanting to know what to do.
The man that I loved with every fiber of my being lunged towards us again, arms outstretched and mouth snapping hungrily, savagely. Daryl shoved him once again then tackled him to the ground, raising his knife high above his head ready to strike it down upon Merle’s damaged skull. I collapsed to my knees, crying out harder than ever and pulling at the hem of my shirt desperately.
Daryl raised the knife higher above his head and began to bring it down reluctantly but with a shaking force…
I’m going to stop there for the time being… I’m getting way ahead of myself. In order for you to understand the full length and depth of my story, I think that I need to start from the beginning; the start of what was now Hell on Earth.
My name is Bray Watson; no relation to the great partner of Sherlock Holmes, John Hammish Watson of course… I am 28 years young and the definition of stupid.
I have been in the Dixon brothers lives for some time now and they in mine. I had been in every class with the younger Dixon, Daryl, since our first year of high school. He and I became friends quickly and frequented one another’s company. The first time that I went to his home to pick him up during our senior year, I met his older brother Merle.
Merle was almost the absolute polar opposite of Daryl. Merle was loud, rough around the edges and lacked a sense of caring. About anything. Well, anything that was not Daryl. He was a racist, judgmental, ignorant, hypocritical, under the influence constantly and unfaithful bastard but the greatest man alive. I loved everything about him. Not even two minutes into our first conversation, I knew that that older man would be mine in one way or another.
Over the last ten years, Merle and I have been on and off, mostly on and loving it. Yeah, we cheated on each other (a lot), fought (a lot) and hated one another more times than I can count but we always made up. We made up quickly, always hitting the sack or hitting the powder, we always ended up together again. We called it our “Reckless Cycle of Love”. Cheesy, yeah, but believe it or not, Merle was like that…
I moved in with he and Daryl not even a year after Merle and I first getting together. Daryl had become like my brother and Merle was to be my husband one day if we ever stopped dragging our stupid feet.
A day before the three of us were to leave on a long weekend fishing/hunting trip, everything changed.
I was outside of our disheveled, piece of shit house loading up Merle’s truck with our extra guns, fishing poles and other needed camping supplies. I stood on the side of the truck, strapping and tying things down, lightly singing to myself.
“I fell in to a burnin’ ring of fire… I went down, down, down and the flames went higher…”
I heard someone walking up behind me and heard a low growl. I assumed that it was Merle coming to cop a feel. As the steps came closer, I stuck my ass out to welcome his hand. When the sound of the growls increased, I turned to see what his issue was and let out a startled scream at the sight in front of me. A man with a blood stained shirt and missing half of his face came towards me in a rush. I screamed again, jumping up onto the truck’s side, trying to kick him away from me. The man grasped onto my loose boot strings, and tugged hard. My eyes widened and I yelled out.
“Merle! Oh God, Merle!”
Half a second later, Merle came out the front door grumbling to himself.
“What you yellin’ about, woman?! You don’t gotta--” Merle was cut short by what he saw. I was kicking frantically now at the bloodied man that was coming even closer. Without a second thought, I saw Merle hop over the railing of the porch and bound towards me at full speed. He grabbed the man by the back of his hair and threw him to the ground with a loud thud, kicking his ribs several times. Merle looked to make sure the man stayed on the ground before turning back to me.
“The fuck, woman? You alrigh’?” He practically yelled at me.
Just as I was about to answer him, I screamed again as the man he threw to the ground stood up and launched himself at Merle. Thankfully, he had had plenty of experience in being snuck up on in a violent way so it did not phase him too much. He spun on the heel of his boot, pulling the knife from his belt and shoved the man away from him. Upon seeing the man’s face, or what was left of it, Merle took a step back and stared.
“The fuck?…” He muttered just above a whisper. As the man lunged at him again, Merle plunged his knife into the man’s gut and pulled it out roughly. The man was not fazed in the slightest, he came at us again and grabbed a hold of Merle’s wrist. Merle tore his wrist from his grasp and stabbed him again. He still came at us. This time, the man lunged and threw Merle off of his footing and they both began to fall. I pulled my small snub nose from the truck and shot our attacker in the head… He finally crumpled to the ground and did not get up. Merle stood from the graveled and was motionless, looking on in a confused manner.
“Merle?” I asked him, arms outstretched holding the gun and shaking.
He slowly turned towards me, a bewildered look on his face. He shook his head several times before asking what it was.
“Merle… Did I kill him? What was that?” I asked him, lowering the gun now.
“I sure think you did, baby girl… You hurt at all?” He looked me up and down, ignoring my other question.
“Naw. I’m fine, I think. Bastard caught me off guard is all… You okay, stud?”
He just nodded and stared down at the now dead man. Merle looked at me, opening then shutting his mouth unsure of what to say. Tears began to prick my eyes for I had never killed a person before. Yeah, I had gotten into plenty of fights in my time but never did I actually take someone’s life. I, too, was lost for words.
Just as I was about to say something, we both looked towards the gravel driveway as the sound of Daryl coming up it. Merle pulled me off of the truck carefully and we both hastily walked towards Daryl as he parked his car.
“Shit’s goin’ down in town.” Daryl said instantly as he exited his vehicle.
“Shit jus’ went down here, brother.” Merle almost yelled, pointing towards the man that had attacked me. The man that I killed…
“Yeah... This guy came out of no where and tried to fuck with me.” I spoke up shakily from beside Merle. “Merle tried to get him off but I shot him…”
Daryl nodded once and said without looking away from the dead man, “You two listen to the radio lately?”
So, this is my first chapter to my first publish.
I like it, but of course, I am a bit biased.
This story will follow some storyline from both the television show, as well as the comic book but it will also have my own twists on certain events and how things happen/play out.
I will be running this story until the ending I created, so I am pretty excited.
Please, let me know what you all think.
Feedback is much appreciated.
Thank you for reading!