Status: updates coming soon-ish =D
Forsaken
Carrie
The first words that came out of her mouth probably weren’t the best considering the situation, but what else was she suppose to say? That filter of hers, which had rarely been used before the world went to hell, hadn’t been put to action in… way to long. Like she knew- the days were running together and everything was kinda just a blur now. Carrie had reduced herself to moment-by-moment actions, not even able to handle thinking far enough to do day-by-day planning. But anyway, thanks to the lack of a filter, her original thought came back to her and was out her mouth before she could do anything.
“What the hell do you want with me?” She could have slapped herself- not for the words themselves, no, but for sounding like a small child. Her voice had been incredibly weak, a little raspy, and she sounded more like a small child than an insecure woman who very much held the potential to become violent if the situation called for it, regardless of how effective (or not effective, given the situation) the violence would be. How was he supposed to know that he wassupposed take her seriously? Goodness. This was bad. Bad badbad. Oh man… not so idly, she wondered how far up this room was, and what her chances of either harmless landing or guaranteed death were, should she jump out the window. Because honestly that was looking like her number one option if she didn’t manage to figure out what the hell was going on, and fast.
“Nothing- You, I just wanted to make sure safe.” What the…? Okay, so foreign man over here decided to rush in on his white horse. Apparently. Carrie didn’t know what to believe anymore. She probably shouldn’t even be thinking about taking his word for granted- what she should be doing is making a dive bomb straight for that window, not looking back, at all. Whatever happens, it happens. And then he can blame himself and go cry in a corner. Or whatever he did to deal with the guilt he may or may not feel, were she to die. No wait, Duke might try to follow after her, which would not be a good thing… no, she had to keep Duke safe. That was number one priority, even above ensuring her own survival. And the reason for that was simple- if he died, she was a dead woman.Might as well put the bullet right between her eyes. Actually, scratch the might as well and jump straight to the ‘put the bullet right between her eyes’ because his death would kill her to the point that, if whatever caused his death didn’t, then Carrie would just do it herself. He was her only grip on sanity, and she wouldn’t be able to function without him.
“I know you probably don’t believe me.” He continued. Carrie just watched him. “He didn’t either.” The man made a gesture to Duke. Man, if he got Duke to trust him, and this ended up biting her in the ass… that would not be fun times. At all. Hopefully his loyalty to her would cancel out his newfound friendship. Hopefully. Otherwise things might get just a teensy bit complicated for Carrie, and complications were the last thing she needed in her life. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done it- Three days you’ve been here, that must say something, no?” She flinched softly at his voice- he was being way too loud. The way he didn’t lift his voice at the end made his words sound less like a question wanting confirmation, and more like a straight up fact. No, actually.Was what she wanted to say- The fact that you haven’t done anything while I was unconscious from sleep deprivation doesn’t say to much- it’s no fun to play with something if they’re unaware you have a new toy. Wait… three days?... Had she really been asleep that long? Well, not like it mattered any… Not like she had any time constraints she needed to meet. One thing the apocalypse had provided? Time. No more ‘there just aren’t enough hours in the day’ crap. That was one thing everyone had plenty of. Too much, in fact.
Thankfully he seemed to take her mistrusting position at face value, as he closed the door without another word, leaving Carrie to her own thoughts.
Well, she would have been left to her thoughts, were it not that she was filled with the immediate urge to pee, less she make a mess of herself, which she just did not need. Getting up, she first checked the doors in the bedroom, aside from the one that he had opened. Nothing.Just a closet.Fantastic. Now probably wasn’t the time to venture out of the room, but she really wasn’t interested in further desecrating her clothing. They were nasty enough as it was.
With a soft groan, she locked her legs together, as if that would really do any good, should her bladder choose to burst. He was somewhere else, the exact details of which Carrie wasn’t concerned about. Mindlessly, she opened door after door until she found it- bingo! Ignoring the mirror (and not wanting to look at herself anyway), she made a beeline for the toilet, closing the door and immediately fiddling with getting her pants undone.
As ludicrous as it sounded, the fact that she was actually taking care of business on a true toilet, rather than behind a tree, was a blessing and caused a feeling of bliss unmatched thus far to course through her body. Letting out a happy sigh, she then became aware that she hadn’t bothered to check if the toilet still worked. Oh well, she really wasn’t all that inclined to care at the moment. Damn zombie apocalypse. And…. Oh… there was toilet paper too. How she had taken these simple pleasures of life for granted. Cleaning herself up, she stood, not looking down as she reached down, pulled her pants up and fastened them, before freezing as she noticed something in the corner of the bathroom.
It was a pile of clothes. Nothing more, nothing less.Just a pile of clothes. However, it was a pile of clothes she knew very well. A pile of clothes that she should be wearing… what in the hell? Sharply looking down, she realized that she was in a completely different pair of jeans, and the pattern of those panties had definitely not been there last time nature had called. Wide-eyed, she went to the mirror- yup. Shirt was different too. No bra.
“That son of a bitch!” She cursed loudly, flinching when she realized just how much of her outside voice she’d used. Looking down at her skin, she noticed it was… distinctly cleaner. Less pink, returning more to the white skin she normally had. The dirt and grime were gone. Well, for the most part.
The jerk had bathed her. She was not some lost puppy in need of a home. Confusion and rage flooded her system so hard, simultaneously, and fast that she got a headache. Bastard… Okay, following along with his ploy that he, out of the goodness of his heart, (something Carrie didn’t buy into at all- everyone had ulterior motives) had rescued her from whatever fate had in store- after all, there was no way she could go three days in one location, in the open, without some walking corpse finding her and turning her body into a buffet- that did not mean he had any right to… oh sweet Miley Cirus. Carrie wanted to hurt something. And she was also flushed with embarrassment- not that she should be caring about what he thought, but she wasn’t exactly in show season condition or anything…
“What the hell do you want with me?” She could have slapped herself- not for the words themselves, no, but for sounding like a small child. Her voice had been incredibly weak, a little raspy, and she sounded more like a small child than an insecure woman who very much held the potential to become violent if the situation called for it, regardless of how effective (or not effective, given the situation) the violence would be. How was he supposed to know that he wassupposed take her seriously? Goodness. This was bad. Bad badbad. Oh man… not so idly, she wondered how far up this room was, and what her chances of either harmless landing or guaranteed death were, should she jump out the window. Because honestly that was looking like her number one option if she didn’t manage to figure out what the hell was going on, and fast.
“Nothing- You, I just wanted to make sure safe.” What the…? Okay, so foreign man over here decided to rush in on his white horse. Apparently. Carrie didn’t know what to believe anymore. She probably shouldn’t even be thinking about taking his word for granted- what she should be doing is making a dive bomb straight for that window, not looking back, at all. Whatever happens, it happens. And then he can blame himself and go cry in a corner. Or whatever he did to deal with the guilt he may or may not feel, were she to die. No wait, Duke might try to follow after her, which would not be a good thing… no, she had to keep Duke safe. That was number one priority, even above ensuring her own survival. And the reason for that was simple- if he died, she was a dead woman.Might as well put the bullet right between her eyes. Actually, scratch the might as well and jump straight to the ‘put the bullet right between her eyes’ because his death would kill her to the point that, if whatever caused his death didn’t, then Carrie would just do it herself. He was her only grip on sanity, and she wouldn’t be able to function without him.
“I know you probably don’t believe me.” He continued. Carrie just watched him. “He didn’t either.” The man made a gesture to Duke. Man, if he got Duke to trust him, and this ended up biting her in the ass… that would not be fun times. At all. Hopefully his loyalty to her would cancel out his newfound friendship. Hopefully. Otherwise things might get just a teensy bit complicated for Carrie, and complications were the last thing she needed in her life. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done it- Three days you’ve been here, that must say something, no?” She flinched softly at his voice- he was being way too loud. The way he didn’t lift his voice at the end made his words sound less like a question wanting confirmation, and more like a straight up fact. No, actually.Was what she wanted to say- The fact that you haven’t done anything while I was unconscious from sleep deprivation doesn’t say to much- it’s no fun to play with something if they’re unaware you have a new toy. Wait… three days?... Had she really been asleep that long? Well, not like it mattered any… Not like she had any time constraints she needed to meet. One thing the apocalypse had provided? Time. No more ‘there just aren’t enough hours in the day’ crap. That was one thing everyone had plenty of. Too much, in fact.
Thankfully he seemed to take her mistrusting position at face value, as he closed the door without another word, leaving Carrie to her own thoughts.
Well, she would have been left to her thoughts, were it not that she was filled with the immediate urge to pee, less she make a mess of herself, which she just did not need. Getting up, she first checked the doors in the bedroom, aside from the one that he had opened. Nothing.Just a closet.Fantastic. Now probably wasn’t the time to venture out of the room, but she really wasn’t interested in further desecrating her clothing. They were nasty enough as it was.
With a soft groan, she locked her legs together, as if that would really do any good, should her bladder choose to burst. He was somewhere else, the exact details of which Carrie wasn’t concerned about. Mindlessly, she opened door after door until she found it- bingo! Ignoring the mirror (and not wanting to look at herself anyway), she made a beeline for the toilet, closing the door and immediately fiddling with getting her pants undone.
As ludicrous as it sounded, the fact that she was actually taking care of business on a true toilet, rather than behind a tree, was a blessing and caused a feeling of bliss unmatched thus far to course through her body. Letting out a happy sigh, she then became aware that she hadn’t bothered to check if the toilet still worked. Oh well, she really wasn’t all that inclined to care at the moment. Damn zombie apocalypse. And…. Oh… there was toilet paper too. How she had taken these simple pleasures of life for granted. Cleaning herself up, she stood, not looking down as she reached down, pulled her pants up and fastened them, before freezing as she noticed something in the corner of the bathroom.
It was a pile of clothes. Nothing more, nothing less.Just a pile of clothes. However, it was a pile of clothes she knew very well. A pile of clothes that she should be wearing… what in the hell? Sharply looking down, she realized that she was in a completely different pair of jeans, and the pattern of those panties had definitely not been there last time nature had called. Wide-eyed, she went to the mirror- yup. Shirt was different too. No bra.
“That son of a bitch!” She cursed loudly, flinching when she realized just how much of her outside voice she’d used. Looking down at her skin, she noticed it was… distinctly cleaner. Less pink, returning more to the white skin she normally had. The dirt and grime were gone. Well, for the most part.
The jerk had bathed her. She was not some lost puppy in need of a home. Confusion and rage flooded her system so hard, simultaneously, and fast that she got a headache. Bastard… Okay, following along with his ploy that he, out of the goodness of his heart, (something Carrie didn’t buy into at all- everyone had ulterior motives) had rescued her from whatever fate had in store- after all, there was no way she could go three days in one location, in the open, without some walking corpse finding her and turning her body into a buffet- that did not mean he had any right to… oh sweet Miley Cirus. Carrie wanted to hurt something. And she was also flushed with embarrassment- not that she should be caring about what he thought, but she wasn’t exactly in show season condition or anything…