Post by Deleted on Sept 3, 2015 12:16:21 GMT -5
Often times, Dexter wondered why they even continued with what they were doing. If this was the apocalypse, and he very much believed that it was at this point, then they were ultimately screwed and just awaiting death to give them their much needed relief. He wasn’t typically this pessimistic; at least, not verbally pessimistic. But on hot days like today, with his stomach so empty of nutrition that it merely hurt, he wondered why they fought. He was sitting by a large boulder, a dead walker at his side with the scull, or whatever they would even be called on a walker, crushed in. The walker was young, at least, that’s what the girl looked like, had her body not been in rapid decay. The smell that emitted hardly bothered his nostrils anymore, assuming that the smell still even existed. He would assume it did, though he had grown far too used to it by this point in his life. Each new day seemed to bring the same good and the same bad as each of the days that passed on. The good? He was still breathing, and not walking as one of the undead. The bad? He was still breathing, and merely waiting until he was walking as one of the undead. Early on, he had discovered that it didn’t even matter if one was bit by one of the beasts or not as the same fate awaited them all. As soon as his heart stopped beating, his breaths stopped coming, he would be just like one of those that he constantly fights off. Although it had only been two years, it seemed as if it had been a century, living each day knowing more than ever that it very well could be his last. The rules of society no longer existed, and every man was nearly to themselves. Beyond just the beasts that were constantly decomposing and filling the air with its putrid scent, they also had to be concerned of the humans that were fighting to survive.
He couldn’t blame those that he came across, their mindsets altered from the years of existence in this world. It really was survival of the fittest to the extreme, and that meant trust would be all that difficult to come across. The resources were running scarce; either already used up by the lucky survivors, or destroyed by the disease. But ultimately, Dexter knew why he continued. Even if it was minute, there was still this slim possibility that there was a way to beat this. There was a slim possibility that the world could come together, rebuild society, and live through this. Perhaps it was a long time from now, past everyone being enemies, or past nearly all of the resources being gone. But Dexter knew that he had this small hope that they could learn to live with what was, and that just maybe, he’d be able to find out if his nephew was alive, no matter how foreign that concept might be. Gnawing on a bit of cracker that he had left in his bag, he rested his head against the boulder, lazily tilting his head to the side as his ear picked up on a rustling branch.
He couldn’t blame those that he came across, their mindsets altered from the years of existence in this world. It really was survival of the fittest to the extreme, and that meant trust would be all that difficult to come across. The resources were running scarce; either already used up by the lucky survivors, or destroyed by the disease. But ultimately, Dexter knew why he continued. Even if it was minute, there was still this slim possibility that there was a way to beat this. There was a slim possibility that the world could come together, rebuild society, and live through this. Perhaps it was a long time from now, past everyone being enemies, or past nearly all of the resources being gone. But Dexter knew that he had this small hope that they could learn to live with what was, and that just maybe, he’d be able to find out if his nephew was alive, no matter how foreign that concept might be. Gnawing on a bit of cracker that he had left in his bag, he rested his head against the boulder, lazily tilting his head to the side as his ear picked up on a rustling branch.