Walking Dead

Olivia found herself walking into where the prison cells are located. She pushed open the barred entrance, pointing a gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Her eyes flickered across the open space. Nothing. She let out a deep breath. Safe.

She strode through the room, glancing past each cell. She could hear the walkers hissing at her as she came by. Their decaying arms reached out for her through the bars, struggling to grasp at her. She ignored them and kept walking. There was no point in killing them; it would only draw more at her with the sound of gunfire.

Towards the end, she found an open cell. She peeked inside — inspecting it — before going in. A messy bed sat on one side, blood stained in the sheets. Behind it, sat a toilet. On the ground, was a scattered variety of pill bottles. The cell must have belonged a junkie, she assumed. Olivia bent down, shaking them to see if they were empty. Most — to her disappointment — were, but she found at least a few half-full.

“Jackpot,” she muttered to herself, knowing that Alex had been looking for painkillers. She then left the cell, scanning the rest of the room. There was nothing else she could find of use. But as she went to turn around, she heard a voice.

“Hey you,” it whispered. Male. She spun back around, looking for the speaker. She flashed her light across the cells, her eyes searching. There, at the very last cell of the building, stood a figure. She stepped towards him cautiously, one hand resting at the gun hanging at her hip. “Yeah, you,” he said as she came closer. “Come here.”

She approached the cell, making sure there was a few feet distance between him and her. Olivia pointed the flashlight at him. He was a young man, maybe a little older than herself. He had dark hair that hung messily past his ears. His eyes were blue, maybe a bit green — bloodshot — and had a hungry look to them. Dark circles hung under them, purpling. They looked like bruises in the dark light. He wore a white shirt and jeans. Both, stained with dried blood.

He pointed his chin to the table in the middle of the room. “There’s keys on that table,” he told her. “Help me escape.”

“And why would I do that?” She asked skeptically. Olivia took a step forward, narrowing her eyes. “For all I know, there might be a reason you’re locked in there.”

He laughed, throwing his head up. She realized she hadn’t seen anyone laugh in days…months. Maybe not even smile. Is that what the world has come to? She thought, can’t even laugh or smile anymore…

He pressed his face against the metal bars. A crazy look was playing in his eyes, his mouth in a deep smirk. “Come here, closer,” he said. She didn’t move. He beckoned her forwards with his fingers, “I won’t hurt you.”

“Something tells me you’re lying.” Again, he laughed. She pressed her lips tightly together. “What’s so funny?”

His fingers wrapped around the outside of the bars. “You,” he replied with a smile. He tilted his head oh-so-slightly. “You are.”

Olivia took a step forward. “I wasn’t trying to be,” she replied.

“I know.” His expression went deadpan. What is…with him? She found herself thinking. She could feel herself be studied under his gaze. His blue-green eyes flickering up and down her. It made her uncomfortable. “Look,” he finally said. “I won’t lie to you. I’m done with that,” he pointed back to the table. “The cell keys are over there. If you could be so kind, all I would need is you to toss me those keys. Then you can leave, or resume whatever you were doing.”

She thought for a moment. Then took another step forward, and pushed her face close to the bars. She knew she was talking a risk in doing this, but somehow, she wasn’t worried. “Tell you what,” she whispered. “First, tell me why you’re locked in here, and then I’ll let you out.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled. She could feel his breath touching her face. “I came in here…ah, a few weeks ago, at the most. With a group. I did something they…apparently, didn’t agree with, and they locked me in here.” He shrugged.

Olivia blinked. That was it? He looked like he was telling the truth, most of it, at least. “Good enough,” she muttered. She went for the keys and brought them back over to the cell. She started to pick through them, looking for the right one. He watched her as she did this.

“It’s the tenth one over,” he explained. “The copper-looking one.” She found it and pushed it into the cell lock. It clicked, and she drew it open. The dark-haired man grinned.

“About fucking time,” he exclaimed. He glance back at the cell, wrinkling his nose. “You have no idea what it was like being in there.” He stepped to Olivia’s side. She noticed he was much taller than she was.

“I’m sure I don’t,” she responded. Then a thought came to her head, “What did you eat in there anyways?”

His face darkened immediately. “Go look for yourself.” She walked back to the cell, looking inside. She had been focusing on him the whole time, that she never had looked behind him…

Her eyes widened at the sight.

She almost wished she hadn’t looked. In the cell, laid torn pieces of what looked like was once a human body. Bones, and ripped muscle were scatter across the floor. Only a few remains of limbs were left, and blood drenching the floor. He had ate a person. A real person. She wanted to gag.

Olivia backed away from the cell, covering her mouth. He nodded at her, only saying, “I did what I had to.”

Her hand flew to the gun. She pulled it out and pointed it at his head. “You’re insane!” She hissed. Slowly, she started to step back. “Is that why you wanted to be free? So you could eat more people? Eat me?” He said nothing. His face was sad…almost ashamed.

“You don’t understand,” he said in a low voice. “He was my friend. I didn’t want it to be that way. But I would have died if I hadn’t. Survival of the fittest…right?”

“You disgust me,” she said through her teeth. She backed towards the entrance to the cells. “If the world wasn’t like it was, you would still be in jail. I wouldn’t have freed you. But it isn’t. And you know what? I think walking around in this nightmare with those– those things! Is a shitload worse than being locked up in here. So, happy birthday! Be thankful I’m letting you live.” She slipped through the doorway, glancing back with hard eyes. “I hope you rot in hell.”
She dashed away, still holding up her gun. She didn’t allow herself to start shaking until she reached out of his view. And the man…the man still stood in the same place; frozen.

Note: this could be loosely considered a fanfic?