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The Walking Dead: Shane & Clementine
Who: Clementine & Shane & a chorus of walkers
What: Getting out of the prison (maybe)
Where: TWD
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Violence, gore, dead things. Oh, and Shane curses a lot.
Another night terrified, quaking with it, and being alone in this place was different than being with folks. Another morning came, and Clementine figured she was done for. Real cracked lips, she'd stopped counting on days without water, but she figured it at nearing three. Sleeping was something that wasn't happening regular neither. She was in the cell Graham and Shane had shared a year earlier, and she had the sheets off the bunks; she had them sheets strung up across the cell bars, tied high when she was trying to hide from Lore. Now, they blocked out the dead, but she could hear them plenty well. All crowded in like sinners in church on Sundays, and they rattled the bars as they rammed into them over and over, like getting at the meal inside was most important.
She'd tried some things to get them away, but none of them had worked real good. She'd tossed some of Shane's rations out at them, since lacking water meant she could only eat them dry. They'd scrambled some when she'd tossed the things out past the blankets, but they'd come on back quick enough, and she hadn't bothered again. No point, and she realized, sun up and another day, that she was going to die in this damn place. All alone, and not a point in any of it. She'd learned a lesson, sure, but that lesson was worthless here, and she thought it was all real unfair.
Good thing about being tired as she was, time slipped sometimes, and she wasn't real sure how much was dreaming and how much wasn't. Like just then, she was curled on the top bunk, a shimmery micro mini and a pink v-neck, her heels in the middle of the cell. She was dozing, on and off, and there were at least a few dozen things outside that cell. The courtyard, last she'd seen of it, was wide open, and walkers wandered thoughtless, like they always did. Inside the cell, she muttered as she dozed, names of folks she didn't think she would ever see again - Shane. Graham. Jake. Joy. And like anyone thinking the end was near, she replayed things in her mind and wished she could do things over different.
What: Getting out of the prison (maybe)
Where: TWD
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Violence, gore, dead things. Oh, and Shane curses a lot.
Another night terrified, quaking with it, and being alone in this place was different than being with folks. Another morning came, and Clementine figured she was done for. Real cracked lips, she'd stopped counting on days without water, but she figured it at nearing three. Sleeping was something that wasn't happening regular neither. She was in the cell Graham and Shane had shared a year earlier, and she had the sheets off the bunks; she had them sheets strung up across the cell bars, tied high when she was trying to hide from Lore. Now, they blocked out the dead, but she could hear them plenty well. All crowded in like sinners in church on Sundays, and they rattled the bars as they rammed into them over and over, like getting at the meal inside was most important.
She'd tried some things to get them away, but none of them had worked real good. She'd tossed some of Shane's rations out at them, since lacking water meant she could only eat them dry. They'd scrambled some when she'd tossed the things out past the blankets, but they'd come on back quick enough, and she hadn't bothered again. No point, and she realized, sun up and another day, that she was going to die in this damn place. All alone, and not a point in any of it. She'd learned a lesson, sure, but that lesson was worthless here, and she thought it was all real unfair.
Good thing about being tired as she was, time slipped sometimes, and she wasn't real sure how much was dreaming and how much wasn't. Like just then, she was curled on the top bunk, a shimmery micro mini and a pink v-neck, her heels in the middle of the cell. She was dozing, on and off, and there were at least a few dozen things outside that cell. The courtyard, last she'd seen of it, was wide open, and walkers wandered thoughtless, like they always did. Inside the cell, she muttered as she dozed, names of folks she didn't think she would ever see again - Shane. Graham. Jake. Joy. And like anyone thinking the end was near, she replayed things in her mind and wished she could do things over different.