Stranger (Carl Grimes)


Lizzie's pov

I slam the puny snitch against the wall.

"Why did you say that?!" I hiss into his small ear.

He whimpers in response to the knife on his throat. Hershel took my knife, so I borrowed one from the dining hall without anyone looking.

"Tell me or you will be hurt!" I threaten, pressing the knife tighter against his throat drawing some blood.

He cries a bit at the pain and I smile wide.

"Because you did something wrong. You had to be told on," he whimpers.

"Well, if you don't want to get hurt later, you need to help me with my plan." I whisper.

"What is it?" he asks.

"I can't trust you. Just follow my orders and don't tell anyone about it." I threaten.

We hear a clatter down in the tombs hallway, followed by a squeak of rusty hinges.

I release the scared boy.

"Tell no one!" I whisper at his retreating form go around the corner.

I run off and hide in the library. The sun is setting now. I need to hide the knife somewhere and torment the brat later. I will strike.

But least expected.

Charlotte's pov

"On what?" Maggie asks, sipping on her tin cup of water.

We both got water and went up to the tower. It's beautiful up here.

I blush slightly and say, "Boys."

She grins and sits up straighter. "What's the problem?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone?" she nods.

"I guess me and Carl are testing out dating and we were about to kiss but Judith started crying and you get the point," I explain, not looking at her with a blush on my cheeks.

She nods, relating with me.

"Well, the only thing I would recommend is time and the right place. Somewhere alone where no one could burst in at the wrong time. As for Carl, warm up to him. You haven't been exactly friendly with a lot of people here."

I nod, agreeing about it all.

"Anything else?" she asks, standing up with her empty cup.

I shake my head and leave.

As I walk to my cell, I hear a whimper echo down the hallway. I walk toward the whimper. Luke is cowered in the corner of the end of the hallway.

"Luke? What's wrong?" I call quietly, echoing down the hallway to him.

He whimpers a bit louder and pushes against the wall, trying to get away from me even though I'm at the end of the hallway. I walk down to him and crouch to him. A weird feeling settles in my stomach. Something isn't right. I stand up fast and turn in a full circle. Nothing. I crouch back to him, squinting in confusion on why he is so scared.

I hear him whisper, "I'm sorry."

I was about to ask him why when I heard it. The squeak of a boot. I stand back up and see Lizzie with a gun. Instead of shooting me, she pummels the but of the gun to my temple too fast for me to register it. I crumple under a sky of black dots.

I wake up dazed. I'm in a different bare concrete room. Judging by the small rectangular windows near the ceiling I'm in a basement. I try to move my arms. No sucess as I realize they are bound to the arm rests of the wooden chair I'm sitting in. I lick my parched lips and taste dry blood. My nose is throbbing as well. Lizzie must have beaten me up when I was out.

I groan. It echoes in the room. It isn't large. A door is to my right. I don't know what is behind me but I find another door in front of me which was the last place I looked in the room. The door in front of me opens and Lizzie enters.

She unbuttons my shirt, revealing my bandage over my scar, which is still healing. She grins and pulls out a clean knife from her back pocket. Without a warning, she is only ripping open the stitches. Fresh blood spills out and I grit my teeth. I don't want to show pain around her, not wanting to give her satisfaction.

"Since you took my Carl, I thought you should pay for it and for the trial we had. Enjoy. Also, don't try screaming, it won't help." she says as the door to the right swings open slowly.

A low groan from behind it emerges.

I curse wildly under my breath as a walker shuffles in the room. I hear the click of a lock. She didn't tie up my legs, which is good right now.

It sniffs the air, not using sight but smell. It turns its head, which has some brains overflowing from its left side rotten black. Its lips are gone, revealing yellow teeth stained with blood and bits of pink stuff, probably an organ of its last victim. The eyes are murky brown and red where white should be. Its right arm is missing up to the elbow. It bites at the air, already anticipating my flesh.

It shuffles over growling. I lean forward, getting to my feet and turning so the legs of the chair were facing the walker. I backup into it and pin it to the wall. It squirms around underneath. I groan as I press harder, my life depending on it. It pushes back, making me loose my balance and it up on the floor, the legs sticking up. I scream out in frustration as I rock back and forth, trying to get back on my feet. My knee caps are screaming as the heavy chair weighs down on them, so do my hands.

The night has come making it black except for the silver of light coming from underneath the door. I loose my balance and topple over on my left. It kneels and I can smell rotten flesh and hear the saliva gurgling in its throat to wash me down better. I scream again and kick it away.

I scream as loud as I can while kicking it away from me every time it tries to get close.

I'm getting tired. I can still feel blood seep out of my wound onto the floor, encouraging the monster trying to eat me. My kicks are getting weak as the walker crawls to me. I feel its only hand land on my shoulder, going in for the throat like an animal. I close my eyes and whimper.

The bite of death doesn't come as I hear a whoosh of an arrow being released from a bow, or a cross bow for this situation. It falls limp.

"What the hell?" Daryl exclaims, twisting a bulb to see.

"Lizzie." I blurt out.

It's the only light in here, and it is bright. I see Rick and Michonne in the hallway. I tremble and choke out a sob as tears race down my cheeks. He cut me loose and helps me up. Rick hands me his jacket so I can use my shirt to stop the bleeding. I wrap my arms around myself for support.

I'm shaking as they lead me up to Hershel. As we cross the courtyard I see Carl. He runs over to me. I hug him tight, sliding my hands between his shoulder blades and clasping onto his shoulders, runing my finger tips over the nubs of his spine. He holds me tight around the waist. I hold him closer. I want to be impossibly close so that I have a sense of protection.

"It's okay now. You're safe with me. Come on, let's get you to Hershel." he says.

I cling to him as we walk together followed by Daryl and Rick. Hershel is in the cafeteria with a medical kit on the table opened, displaying various things for various situations. I let go of Carl and sit down. I clear my throat and they leave for privacy.

He dabs it clean after restitching the wound and puts a fresh square of gauze.

"It isn't too bad of a set back, she only cut the stitches but you still need to be careful." Hershel says while packing up.

I nod before leaving. On shaky legs I scurry to my cell. I slip on a black t shirt and grey sweats even though it's hot outside. I take my gun with me to bed, too scared not to be without it in case Lizzie tries anything as horrific as what happened.

I don't go to sleep. I stay propped up against the smooth, cold, concrete wall behind me. The gun is rested in my lap, my hands are trembling a bit but I don't do anything to stop them.

I see a silhouette in my curtain. My right hand has the gun trained on the door as I finally see who it is I put it down.

"How are you?" Carl asks, sitting on the end of my bed.

"Traumatised," I dead pan to him not looking into his eyes.

An awkward silence swells between us. The noises outside filling it in. He clears his throat and shifts to go to the door. I lean and catch his hand with my finger tips. He looks back at me and freezes.

"Stay. Please." I ask.

He nods slowly and bends down, unlacing his boot strings and sliding out of his socks as well. He stands up and places them at the door. Next he takes off his hat and tugs his brown flannel off, revealing the teal t shirt underneath.

I move next to the wall and peel the blanket back. He moves in and reclines back after unhinging his holster and gun from his belt. I'm still sitting up. I take a deep breath and move to place my head on his chest, my arms around his waist.

"This ok?" I ask, not straining my neck to look up at him.

"Yeah. See you in the morning Charlotte." he says, his voice vibrating in my ear with his heartbeat, ripping through his chest as it came from his vocal chords.

He wraps his arm around my waist and I close my eyes, only to see the lipless walker staring at me like a meal. I mentally whimper and fall asleep with it in behind my blackened lids.

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