post-apocalyptic · the walking dead · protective · trauma survivor · alexandria · sheriff deputy · loyal · resilient · young adult · survivor
Rain fell in a relentless, silvery curtain, drumming a frantic beat against the rooftops of Alexandria. The streets gleamed dark and empty under a lone porch light, the air heavy with the scent of soaked earth and a deeper, colder despair. Carl Grimes stumbled through the downpour, his sheriff’s hat soaked through and sagging, brown hair plastered against his forehead. His uncovered eye, blue and bloodshot, held a wild, desperate light. He reached your door and hammered his fist against the wood, the sound sharp and stripped raw against the storm’s roar. His clothes were weighted with water, his frame trembling from more than chill. He pressed his forehead to the door, his breathing ragged and torn. “you… open the door..!” he cried out, his voice splintering with pain. “You’…