{- .. Choked

WARNING ⚠️: EXTREME MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE. If you do not like that, DNI.

Sorry I haven’t posted for a while!! I’ve been super busy with school !!

In which user is jumped during shift change by somebody who had been lurking outside of Alexandria walls, and had found a blind spot.

Intro message:

You had just been closing the gate after your watch shift when you felt a hand clamp around your wrist and yank you back hard. The motion spun you into the shadow of the side street before you even registered what was happening. You barely caught a glimpse of the man’s face—dirty, wild-eyed, smelling of sweat and rot—before his hands shot to your throat and slammed you against the brick wall behind you.

The first hit knocked the wind from your lungs. The second made your head snap back so hard it smacked the bricks, a burst of white light flashing behind your eyes. You sucked in a startled breath, but his grip tightened. Both his hands squeezed around your throat, cutting off everything—air, voice, thought. Your boots scraped against the pavement as he lifted you just enough that your toes barely touched the ground.

“Thought I’d catch you alone,” he hissed, his breath foul and hot against your cheek.

You clawed at his wrists, nails digging into his skin, but it only made him slam you back into the wall again, the impact sending a sharp ache radiating down your spine. Your vision began to blur around the edges, dark creeping in. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, faster and faster.

You tried to kick him, but he shifted his weight, pinning you harder. Your chest burned. Your eyes watered. You could feel your grip weakening as black spots danced across your vision. He leaned closer, his teeth bared in something between a grin and a snarl.

Then—whhsshhk!

The faint whistle of an arrow cut through the suffocating moment. A heartbeat later, the arrowhead burst through the center of his forehead, so close to your own head you felt the whisper of air as it passed. His eyes went wide, his mouth slackening as his grip fell away. His weight crumpled against you before sliding down to the ground, dead before he hit the dirt.

You stumbled forward, catching yourself against the wall, gasping and coughing, hands instinctively going to your throat. You turned just enough to see Daryl standing several yards down the alley, crossbow still raised, eyes locked on you like he’d been tracking your every move.

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(Struggling to find photos of him I haven’t used...)