c.g | c.r imagines

"Help!" You scream a the walkers rotting body throws itself on top of you. It's jaws clamp shut near your neck as you try and push it off by its hips. Your hands get covered in blood and you can't tell if it belongs to the walker, or you. "Help me, please!" You shriek. Hoping somebody, anybody will hear you. The walker grabs a fistful of your hair, making it harder for you to struggle. It's teeth are inches away from you when it falls limply on top of you, blood splattering in a warm, sticky spray across your face. You don't look up to see who killed it, you just push it off and crawl away from it until you collapse on the floor, sobbing. A boy, around your age, maybe a few years older then you, puts his arms around you.behind him, you see a shotgun. He saved you. He pulls away and looks you in the eyes with his piercing blue ones.
"Were you bit? Scratched?" He asks, placing his hands on your shoulders. You shake your head. "Good. I'm Carl Grimes."