Post by Teacakes on May 11, 2014 16:41:10 GMT
Clementine grabbed the front of her hat and pulled it down over eyes, before taking the hood of her coat and pulling that over her hat. Lowering her head she began to feel the inside of her mouth with her tongue. She almost immediately found a bleeding cut on her inside cheek. Clementine spat blood, the red liquid leaving a metallic taste in her mouth.
Carver. Clementine hated the man who went by that name. She may have escaped his camp alive but she had been damaged, both mentally and psychically. Her face stung, her lip was cut, her nose was broken, she also her a black eye along with some bruised ribs. All she wanted was to get as far away from that mad man as possible but of course, it wasn't as easy as that. Now that she had left the camp Carver and his followers would hunt her down like she was a wild animal that needed to be tamed. But Clementine wasn't too keen on going back and she would do everything in her power to stop them from capturing her.
The eleven year old breathed a sigh of relief as she heavy snow fall began to ease off and instead the snow flakes began to drift gently down from the dark grey sky. The little girl walked past several trees and down a small hill towards a stream which was covered in a sheet of ice. Kneeling down by the frozen water, Clementine took a hatchet from her belt and swung the blade at the ice, breaking a few holes and allowing the water to clean the blood soaked weapon. The rifle was placed down next to her as she collected some of the fresh water in a bottle.
Clementine was spooked by a group of ravens that came flapping out of the safety of their tree and flew off into the sky. Puzzled by the startled birds, Clementine glanced around with confusion only to notice the cause. Standing on the hillside was Carver and his followers, two men holding guns to be exact. The three were staring down at her, watching eerily silent from afar. Once Carver realised his presence was known he called out to her.
"There doesn't have to be any trouble, darlin', all I want is for you to be safe. So why don't you make things easy and come over here?"
No. Clementine felt like screaming that word at the top of her lungs but instead she remained silent and reached for her rifle cautiously. Fumbling around she managed to attach the hatchet to her belt before finally taking hold of the rifle. Quick as a flash, Clementine jumped to her feet and went sprinting across the ice and towards the trees on the other side of the stream. Carver ordered his men to take aim and fire at will. His followers did so, lifting their assault rifles and firing at Clementine.
The eleven year old slipped on the ice, her whole body collided with the thick sheet. She lie there for a brief moment, the sound of gun shots and bullets ringing in her ears as she struggled to get up. Clementine got to her feet once again and ran to the other side of the stream, making contact with solid ground. But she wasn't out of the woods yet. Both literally and metaphorically.
Clementine ran for cover only for one of the bullets to get a direct hit. The piece of lead ripping through her leg caused the little girl to scream in agony and collapse to the ground once again. Clementine glanced down at her leg, blood oozing from the bullet wound. Her vision blurred, the world around her became hazy as she began to feel faint.
Carver. Clementine hated the man who went by that name. She may have escaped his camp alive but she had been damaged, both mentally and psychically. Her face stung, her lip was cut, her nose was broken, she also her a black eye along with some bruised ribs. All she wanted was to get as far away from that mad man as possible but of course, it wasn't as easy as that. Now that she had left the camp Carver and his followers would hunt her down like she was a wild animal that needed to be tamed. But Clementine wasn't too keen on going back and she would do everything in her power to stop them from capturing her.
The eleven year old breathed a sigh of relief as she heavy snow fall began to ease off and instead the snow flakes began to drift gently down from the dark grey sky. The little girl walked past several trees and down a small hill towards a stream which was covered in a sheet of ice. Kneeling down by the frozen water, Clementine took a hatchet from her belt and swung the blade at the ice, breaking a few holes and allowing the water to clean the blood soaked weapon. The rifle was placed down next to her as she collected some of the fresh water in a bottle.
Clementine was spooked by a group of ravens that came flapping out of the safety of their tree and flew off into the sky. Puzzled by the startled birds, Clementine glanced around with confusion only to notice the cause. Standing on the hillside was Carver and his followers, two men holding guns to be exact. The three were staring down at her, watching eerily silent from afar. Once Carver realised his presence was known he called out to her.
"There doesn't have to be any trouble, darlin', all I want is for you to be safe. So why don't you make things easy and come over here?"
No. Clementine felt like screaming that word at the top of her lungs but instead she remained silent and reached for her rifle cautiously. Fumbling around she managed to attach the hatchet to her belt before finally taking hold of the rifle. Quick as a flash, Clementine jumped to her feet and went sprinting across the ice and towards the trees on the other side of the stream. Carver ordered his men to take aim and fire at will. His followers did so, lifting their assault rifles and firing at Clementine.
The eleven year old slipped on the ice, her whole body collided with the thick sheet. She lie there for a brief moment, the sound of gun shots and bullets ringing in her ears as she struggled to get up. Clementine got to her feet once again and ran to the other side of the stream, making contact with solid ground. But she wasn't out of the woods yet. Both literally and metaphorically.
Clementine ran for cover only for one of the bullets to get a direct hit. The piece of lead ripping through her leg caused the little girl to scream in agony and collapse to the ground once again. Clementine glanced down at her leg, blood oozing from the bullet wound. Her vision blurred, the world around her became hazy as she began to feel faint.