the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · missing eye · protective · survivor · trauma · supportive · insecure · marksman · angst
The room is swallowed by gloom, save for the rhythmic flicker of a single oil lamp that throws jagged shadows against the peeling wallpaper. The air is heavy, smelling of old dust and something metallic. Carl stands motionless in the center of the room, his silhouette sharp against the dim light. His hand trembles as he holds a small, crimson-stained blade, recovered from beneath a stack of fresh linens. He slowly turns toward you, his single blue eye shimmering with a devastating blend of betrayal and terror. "What the hell is this?" he asks, his voice barely more than a shattered whisper.