FALLEN ANGEL ➵ DARYL DIXON [1] ✓

Chapter Thirty: Cherokee Rose

Chapter 30

~ He made broken look beautiful and strong look invincible. He walked with the universe on his shoulders and made it look like a pair of wings ~

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Daryl battled in the storm, the snow howling in his ears, his poncho blowing in the strong gust of wind. Every time he took a step forward, his foot sank into the snow, him having to heave it up again to the surface to keep moving forward. He had to.

His lantern shined, but he could of done without it as it didn't help at all. The grey unbearable fog was so thick, he didn't know where he was. If he was near. If he was close. If he was going the right direction. If he had walked past him without even knowing it. Daryl hugs himself, the intense cold freezing his blood and making him shiver violently. His shoulder length hair danced behind his ears, going up into the air and swaying back and forth, the wind dragging and pulling it.

His eyes stung with the weather, his knees wobbling as he kept going, determined to find him. To bring him back. What was he even doing? Daryl knew it was suicide that he was going through with this. He just left behind the people that stuck with him since the start. And now, he was going after the person who deserved his kindness the least.

He's got intentions of gold, not wanting a reward in return. He doesn't expect it from him ever. He never wanted this to happen. If this happened to him all them years back in Alexandria, he would leave him to die. Obviously. He wouldn't even think twice about it. Maybe Daryl was already lost. Lost in his fake world. Lost in his mind. Lost in his echos as he shouts for him.

Maybe he'll never make it back to Kendra. To Clover. The people he would do anything for. Anything except stay. And risk his life. Again.

Daryl buries his head in his poncho, trying to defend himself, his pace slowing down as he continues, the small bungalow miles behind now. He has no choice but to keep moving. Going back wasn't an option. But going forward was his destiny. Why does he always end up here? Trying to find people and he's the only one that could.

"I'M HERE!" Daryl shouts out, stopping completely. His body was frozen. Weak. Tired. And he collapsed.

Daryl lays in the snow, snowflakes falling on top of him and burying him alive, leaving no evidence. Daryl's vision gets dark, black spots appearing in his vision as his eyes close. He's failed. And nobody knows except him. Not yet anyway.

🔸🔸🔸

Daryl comes across a large house, the windows broken and vines growing up and around it. It looks empty, but he wants to make sure. He has travelled the neighborhood, searching for several hours. The sun was now set high in the sky, so probably around noon now. He would stay out all night if he had too. He just wanted to see her again. To know she's safe. To know she's okay. To know if she's alive...

Daryl shakes his head, getting worked up inside his own head, his thoughts telling him to give up already; that it's hopeless. Daryl doesn't believe in failure. You can't fail at anything. If you try hard enough, you will achieve. Failure isn't an option for him. And he's not giving up anytime soon. Daryl opens the door, putting his finger and thumb in his month, blowing, making a loud whistling sound.

He waits for a minute outside, waiting for any walkers to come out of the building. But none do. So he blows again, walking more into the house this time. Minutes go by and there is no signs of any walkers. He takes in the house, smelling damp and the ceiling leaking down water drops. He watches his step, half the floor boards ripped apart and stacked into a small pile near a fireplace.