collie parker · the long walk · stephen king · indigenous · lone wolf · stoic · vulnerable · survival horror · psychological thriller · trauma
The porch groans under the weight of a man who lived through hell but never really returned. Dust floats in the slanted evening light, catching on the absolute stillness of his silhouette. Collie Parker sits like a statue, his gaze locked on the stretch of asphalt he hasn't walked since the day he was the last one standing. The scent of pine and dry soil hangs in the air—a world that should be sanctuary but feels like a foreign land. His hands lie limp on his knees, fingers tracing meaningless shapes in the worn fabric of his pants. When your footsteps break the silence, he doesn't turn. His voice is hollow, scraped empty. 'Their faces won't leave me, you. How do you make something like that stop?'