Daryl Poncho Walking Dead Novels & Stories

The entire street looked like a massive graveyard, with dead monsters scattered almost everywhere Ivy looked. "Fuck... We did it," Darren murmured under his breath. He finally brought the armoured vehicle to a stop and climbed down from it. However, the moment his boot touched the ground, he accidentally stepped directly on the head of one of the dead monsters. CRUNCH! Darren froze. He slowly lowered his head and looked at what he had stepped on. The sight immediately made his stomach churn. As if the already unbearable smell of decay wasn't enough, looking down at the crushed monster beneath his boot pushed him over the edge. Darren immediately staggered away from it and began vomiting terr

Diana finally broke off. Cedric glanced at Alpha Darren for permission to ask again. "Luna, did you see his face? When that man pulled the corpse as you said. Was the man's face someone you recognized? Since you could tell that he was a member of Pack Kyne, it is likely that you recognized him." Diana swallowed hard. Meanwhile, Alpha Darren also realized that Diana seemed to recognize the members who were in Pack Delonix. "Diana, is that someone close to you?"

But also the realization that once Gonzalo knows the truth, many people will die. "Are you alright?" Darryl turned his head to the right, and saw a pretty Spanish lady sitting beside him. After talking to two of the oldest Spanish street gangs, and being in danger twice, Darryl finally felt tired. He sat at the first bench he saw at the park. "Haha! Yes, I'm okay. Just a little tired." "Maybe that's because you're looking in the wrong direction. Perhaps I can help you?" "Were you following me?"

Darin said and before Dahlia could say another word, she felt his sharp fangs deep into her neck. She felt her strength leave her rapidly and soon, she could no longer struggle or breathe. “Thud!” her lifeless body fell to the ground. “Dahlia!” Wendy screamed at seeing the body. “No! No! No… No. This can’t be happening.” West said as he fell to the ground and tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt like the world had come to an end. “Come on, kill me too. Just take my life.” West whispered. “I’d rather not. I like to hunt for my prey.” Darin said and zapped away and came back with another body.

Jack and I aren’t twenty yards, when we find the sharp left that opens into the underground room that houses the cells. Visible from the entrance, Cordelion has Darby pinned against the wall of her tiny cell. Her entire body hangs limp and lifeless, and the only reason I know she’s still alive is because I can see the vampire repeatedly plunging his teeth into her, sucking for a second, then moving to another spot. It’s brutality of the most grotesque and malicious kind.

Third POV Daniel stepped out of the room with an expressionless face. He slightly creased his face when he saw Daryl rushing towards him. “What is chasing you?” He asked, but Darryl stretched his hand, passing his phone to him. “You forgot this in the car and Mr. Dante has been calling you for a while now,” he informed him. “He has been calling?” He asked, speaking more to himself before reaching for it. Just then his phone rang again and he picked the call immediately.

I yelled at him and lightly tapped his face; he then opened his eyes and got up from my grip, and held his head. "Arrrrggh aaah!" His breathing became heavier, and his eyes turned bloody red. "Daryl!" He gave me a look and pointed to his desk. "The drugs! Take the pills!" He said, and I hurriedly took the drugs from his desk, mixed them with water, and gave them to him to drink. He calmed down and caught his breath after a few minutes. "Are you all right, Daryl?" I asked, and he nodded. "How long has it been since you last drank human blood?" I asked him, but he didn't respond.

Cheesy sat restlessly on the back porch of the mansion. Her face was pale, her eyes puffy from lack of sleep. She kept staring at her phone screen, hoping for news from Daryl. But there were no messages or calls. Suddenly, her phone rang. Daryl's name appeared on the screen. Cheesy answered immediately. “Daryl! Where are you?!” The voice on the other end sounded faint. “At the clinic. I had an accident last night.”

The day that he earned enough to buy back the grocery store, he rushed home to tell his grandmother the good news, but he found his grandmother lying dead on the floor in a pool of blood with Damian standing over her. Something was tragically different about Damian. He wore a mask that only covered his mouth and his arms were glowing with devilish red energy and black lightning surrounding it. The horrifying sight of his brother standing over their grandmother’s corpse drove Daryl mad. He charged up his arms and swung at Damian. But Damian blasted him out of the building onto the roof of the building across from them. When Daryl awoke, he saw police tape over the crime scene and officers hol

I shout, coughing, shielding my face as the smoke burns my eyes. I hear the scuffle of boots in the mud, a grunt of exertion, and then the sound of a body hitting the ground—but it’s not the sound of a dying man. It’s the sound of a retreat. I stumble through the thick, swirling haze, my hands reaching out into the void. My fingers brush against the cold, wet stone of the altar, finding nothing but empty, echoing space. I keep moving, panic rising in my chest like bile. I find Daryl, his form looming large in the thinning mist, his breath coming in ragged, wheezing gasps as he staggers back. He’s no longer looking for the kill; he’s looking for me.