Walker blood was splattered all over her body, but she didn't care. She wasn't about to stop until she couldn't go any more.

She had watched them die. She had seen the look in the eyes when she had raised her gun at them and squeezed the trigger. She had seen them drop, only to be devoured by walkers. Oh, how she had wanted to dive in there and save them. Deep down she knew that there was no way she could have saved them, for they had already been bit, but that hadn't stopped her from longing to. It hadn't stopped her from believing that maybe she could have done something differently to save them.

How could she kill roamers, and then not be able to kill a human who was already gone?

Her heart hurt- it literally felt like it was exploding from the pain she was feeling. She leaned against a tree for support, holding her hand to her heart. She wanted to cry- oh, how she wanted to lay down and scream and throw a tantrum. But she couldn't. Crying only made her feel worse about everything. Instead, she went on a wild killing spree out in the woods. Nobody had seen her leave, but they had all surely noticed she was gone by now.

Hearing steps behind her, she whipped out a knife and threw it directly into the head of the walker, hardly even taking time to look. He dropped to the ground, lifeless as the ones she had killed earlier. She plucked the knife from his skull, wiping the dark blood on her jeans.

She could faintly hear people yelling her name, but she didn't stop. Roamer after roamer she killed. When she ran out of knives to throw, she used her bow. By the time she had killed off all of the creatures, she still had four arrows left. Hastily, she retrieved each weapon, wiping them off in the grass before putting them away.

She stood in the clearing, surrounded by the roamers. She was a sight to see. Nearly all of her skin was red from the blood of the monsters, her eyes were wild and her hair was ruffled in it's pony tail. She looked like a crazy person you would see in a movie.

But this wasn't a movie. This was real live hell.

"Presley..." Somebody said when they entered the clearing. She turned, a bloody knife still in her hand. Daryl stared at her, but he didn't seem scared. That confused her. If she saw a girl holding a bloody knife in the woods, she would likely turn and run the other direction screaming. She shook her head, wiping off her last weapon and sliding it into its holster.

"What, Daryl?" She asked, annoyed by his presence.

"You can't just go flyin' out of here like yer on a mission."

"And why not? I am free to do whatever the hell I please. I'm not hurting anybody." She spat, turning and looking at him with wild eyes. He hardly even recognized her.

"You're hurting me." He blurted out before he could even think that over. She stopped moving, frozen in her place as she looked at him. He didn't know why he had expected her to run into his arms when he had admitted what he had been struggling with for months. She wasn't like a girl from a lovestory- she was like a girl from a survival channel. She shook her head.

She didn't even say anything when she turned and walked away. He knew that she would return to the prison, but she wouldn't return for him.

"Did you find her?" Rick asked as Daryl walked through the gates. He hardly even paid attention to the ex-sheriff.

"She's fine. Goin' on a rampage." Daryl said as he continued walking. Rick didn't even try to go after him, he just let the man continue walking away.

- - -

It took hours for Presley to return. She had washed up in the stream before she had shown her face, so you could see skin rather than blood and sweat. But there was no saving her clothing, which was drenched in the red substance.

People just looked at her when she entered, deep frowns creasing their faces. She wasn't ashamed of what she had just done- she was ashamed of Daryl. Not of Daryl, but of the fact that he had admitted to feeling something for her. This entire time she had been fighting to make it seem like she didn't care, so that they wouldn't care... But this group was persistant and loving. She supposed it hadn't been avoidable since the moment she had decided to stay to stay and please them.

"Presley, we need to talk." She didn't care who had said that, so she didn't bother looking. It was probably just Rick trying to some authority over her. The moment she made it to her cell door she pulled the sheet over so that nobody could see her, and hopefully nobody would bother you.

And nobody did.

She stripped and changed out of the bloody clothing, changing into a fresh pair of skinny jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. She didn't bother putting her shoes back on, just sat on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands.

She wasn't mad at Daryl- she was mad at herself. When he had said that she had been hurting him by leaving, her heart had fluttered and she had felt... Something. She didn't want to feel something- she couldn't feel something. She couldn't let her focus be loitered by loving somebody other than herself and Zeva.

"Zeva." She called softly. The dog placed her head in her owner's lap, offering comfort to try and soothe her owner. She only wished the dog could talk and actually understand what she was trying to say. "Never feel something for somebody, girl. It only leads to weakness, and weakness leads to death."

"Actually, I believe feeling for somebody gives you strength. It gives you something to live for, something to look forward to." A male voice said. She looked to see the sandy blonde head of Stefan. Presley shook her head, looking back down at the dog in her lap.

"Says you." She snorted. "You obviously don't care for anybody. I mean, you just left your own group. Now you're here and you have what? A group of people who are scared of you because of what your little friends did to me."

"Oh I care for somebody." Stefan insisted stubbornly. "While they may not care for me, I am not particularly interested in making them care for me."

"Awe, did you fall for Michonne? Good luck with that katana." She teased, earning a laugh and a shake of the head from Presley.

"No, she's..." He shuddered. "She's scary as hell, to put it bluntly."

"Yeah.... Yeah, she definitely is a bit scary." She admitted, leaning against her pillow. She closed her eyes. Why was Stefan here? It wasn't like he actually had a reason to stay. She supposed he didn't have anywhere else to go, for all his supplies had been left in Woodbury. Nevermind the prison was a decently safe place.

"So why'd you run out earlier?" Stefan asked casually. She frowned.

"I needed space." She said simply. "I killed two people today... It's overwhelming and I..." She shook her head. "I dont like killing people."

"Roamers were people once."

"But that's different. Their souls have left their bodies, and their bodies are being hosted by a virus that controls them... That's why they will never wake up, because who they once were is already gone. When we kill a roamer, we're killing the virus, not the people."

"How did you find that out?" He asked, frowning.

"I ran into some scientist and a crazy guy named Abraham." She laughed pathetically. "He claims he knows the cure- but yet there isn't a cure. These people won't come back, because they are long gone. He just knows of a drug that will make it so that when we die, we won't come back. If we are bit, we will survive as long as the wound is treated."

"Why won't the people come back?"

"Because their minds have left their body. The only part of the brain that starts up is the stem... The part that makes them breathe and smell and walk and such."

"How will he get this cure to everybody? And what about all the walkers still alive?"

"They will have to come to him for the cure, once it's made of course. It might not even be a cure- he might be wrong, of course." She shrugged. "We'll have to kill all the dead in order for the world to be rid of them. Which, I might add, will probably take years."

"Why don't you sound like you believe this is true?" Stefan asked, and Presley looked him in the eye.

"The end of one world is the beginning of another." She stood to give him time to take that all in and understand the details. She didn't want to particularly be around a lot of people at the moment, especially people like Stefan... Who could talk and act like nothing is wrong.

- - -

The sun was setting, so it was curfew, but Presley wasn't one to listen to those silly rules. She continued walking through the yard, playing with one of her throwing knives. She rolled it expertly between her fingers, somehow managing to avoid the sharp points and not cutting herself.

"Presley, get down!" Somebody screamed. The girl barely had time to drop to the ground before gunfire shot through the chain link fences. She was down in a somewhat valley, so she couldn't be shot unless somebody was basically right on top of her. She rolled onto her back and readied her gun, peaking up and over the fence. Sure enough, she could see a small line of men shooting gun fire. Undoubtedly the Governor's men.

The mere thought of him made her ill to her stomach. She rolled back over to her stomach and took a deep breath. She was stupid for even trying to do this- but she had to. She had to get out of this before somebody really did stumble upon her. She refused to be kidnapped again.

And so, the foolish girl stood and ran. She twisted and looked over her shoulder, firing two shots. One man fell, but she had missed the other. She was a bit rusty due to the lack of gun use. They had to have noticed her by now, but nobody shot at her. Probably the Governor's orders.

"Here." Glenn said when she slipped behind a block. "Are you crazy? You could have been shot!"

"They're not shooting at me." She hissed, loading the machine gun. She peered over the block, aiming carefully. "That's the Governor's men."

Glenn looked horrified, and she knew that his first thought was of Maggie. She squeezed the trigger and the gun released rapid fire. She was too scared to even focus long enough to see if she had dropped anybody. "Somebody needs to come up behind them and take them out." She muttered, pulling the strap of the gun and draping it awkwardly over herself, alongside her bow and quiver.

"Not you!" Glenn shouted.

"I know." She said, surprising the both of them. She reloaded the gun, peeking over the block and spying them. "But I am going to go up into the guard tower with a sniper."

"Be careful." He said, making room for her to reach over him and grab the gun she needed.

She nodded without a word, leaving the machine gun where she had been beside him. It probably didn't appear smart, but she had plenty of weapons on her. While most of them were fairly close range, they still worked for her.

She crawled to the guard tower, kicking open the door and crawling in. The stairs seemed steeper than usual, and more plentiful. She pushed herself up to the top, laying down on her stomach to avoid being shot. She peered underneath the lowest bar, setting up the stand for the rifle. She had the perfect view.

She only took a second to find her enemies on the scope, firing them down with ease. She only managed to take down two people before they realized that somebody was on higher ground. They looked around wildly, searching in the trees in hopes of spotting the person shooting them down. None of them thought to look where she was.

She took the time to reload, rolling back into her stomach and peering into the scope. Suddenly, somebody grabbed her ankle and yanked her back. She screamed and thrashed, scrambling to her feet and pulling out a knife. The knife proved to be useless, for he grabbed her wrists and backed her up until she could feel the metal bars below her. The bars were the only thing keeping her from falling to her death.

With a cry, she raised her foot and stomped down. The man emitted a groan and loosened his grip just long enough for her to wriggle free. She used the knife to stab his shoulder, hoping to at least weaken him. He cried out as she propelled herself towards the stairs, but somehow he managed to grab her and pull her back.

"Stupid bitch!" He seethed. His voice sounded familiar.

"Daryl?" She squeaked, but it wasn't Daryl. This man only had one hand, and Daryl had two. But saying the name got him to stop his attack. He dropped her wrists and looked at her, eyes wide. She yanked out her pistol and raised it towards his head.

"Ye know my baby brother?" He asked, raising his hands in submission.

"Stay back!" She shouted when he tried to take a step towards her.

"Okay, okay. No need fer violence." He said, taking a step back. "Where's Daryl."

"He's fine." She said, flexing her hand around the pistol. The man didn't even look frightened. Didn't he see that there was a girl in front of him, holding a gun to his head. Her jaw tightened and she looked at him with unwavering eyes.

"Yer the Governor's play thing... I could pry get ye back down there... Unless ye tell me where my baby brother is." The man said, a devilish smirk playing on his cruel features.

Presley cringed, resisting the urge to close her eyes and drop the gun from his head. The thought scared her to death, but she couldn't betray Daryl like that... She just couldn't.

"I'm not afraid." She lied.

"Merle?" Another voice joined the duet up in the watch tower. Daryl's head appeared behind Merle's, but Presley didn't lower his gun. The two brothers looked at each other with wide eyes identical to each other.

"Hey, baby brother." Merle said, casting a glance at Presley. The raven-haired girl continued staring at him with hard eyes.

"Presley you can lower yer gun." Daryl said, looking between the two in confusion. Presley closed her eyes and dropped her arms to her sides, turning away. She didn't have the heart to tell him that Merle had been the other one in the car with Marcus... The one who had kidnapped her in the first place. She recognized that voice from anywhere.

"Look at che'w..." Merle said, laughing. "Ye even got yer own lil' bitch listenin' to ya."

Presley turned and looked at him, glaring. "I ain't nobody's bitch." She retorted, mocking his disgusting southern drawl. She looked between Daryl and Merle, disgusted.

"Come back with me." Merle insisted to Daryl. "We can even take yer lil' pet."

Before Presley could even say anything, Daryl was shaking his head. "I ain't goin' wit' you."

"Why not? We're brothers." The man frowned.

"Than stay here."

Presley peered outside the watch tower, choosing to give the brothers space. She picked up the sniper, firing down the people on the opposite side. She didn't care if they could see her, or if Merle decided to push her over in spite. She just wanted to kill the Governor.

Somebody grabbed her arm. She turned to see Daryl, now hauling her back into the tower. "Hey!" She shouted, wrenching her arm free of his grip. She still held the sniper with on hand, glaring at the two brothers.

"Merle gonna stay." Daryl informed her.

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "No, he can't he-." She stopped short, not having the heart to tell him that his own brother was part of the disgusting scheme with the Governor. She lowered the sniper to the ground, avoiding Daryl's gaze.

"I ain't gonna stay, brother." Merle said, giving Presley a skeptical look. "I need ta stay in Woodbury. I'll let ye and yer little bitch stay." He said, turning and retreating down the stairs.

"What did he do, Presley?" Daryl asked, approaching the now shaking girl. She remained silent, but Daryl hooked a thumb underneath her chin and forced her to look at him. Her heart stopped- having never been this close to those Georgia blue eyes. The urge to kiss him was overwhelming, but the sound of gunfire stopped that urge. She closed her eyes and shook her head, turning away.

She picked up the sniper and moved to the outside of the tower, only to find that the Governor's men were retreating. She closed her eyes and lowered the sniper to the ground once again, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Presley?"

"He kidnapped me, Daryl." She said finally, staring at the retreating cars. "Your brother and the man you killed with your crossbow to save me are the ones who took me to the Governor."

"I-."

"He can't stay here." She turned, looking at Daryl with a cold gaze. "He can't."

- - -

Presley n Daryl... Desley

yay? nay?