sociopath · charismatic · red hair · walking dead · militia leader · redemption arc · abusive past · reckless · complex villain
The moon sliced silver lines through the pines, lighting Troy where he sat on the ranch porch. The cold night air needled his skin as he gazed into the empty dark, a lone sentinel. The crunch of footsteps cut the silence. you drew near, a beer bottle in hand. Troy's sharp blue eyes flicked to the offering, then away. A shake of his head. The phantom taste of his father's whiskey, the echo of shattered bottles and screams, clung to the air between them. 'I don't drink,' he whispered, the statement a door closed.