Rosita Walking Dead Novels & Stories

“What? No. Please. No. Never do that. Besides, you’re taking this too seriously. It’s just a crush. It’ll wear off. I know it will.” ——— [Rosita] After leaving Vivienne’s place, I drive straight home. I park the car in the garage and enter the house through the backdoor. I pause when I hear the TV on in the living room. Dropping my bag and keys on the table, I quietly make my way toward the noise. When I enter the room, no one’s there. Maybe I left it on in a rush yesterday? Just as the thought crosses my mind, a pair of arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against something solid. I almost scream.

Jade replied shamelessly, "Oh, come now, they've known each other since they were kids. We're together! I'll let Allen take Rosie's name if that's fine with you." She then signaled for Allen to come over, but Allen did not budge. My mother smiled and said, "I've told you: it's better for our families to not have any further dealings. Stop all your bullcrap and get straight to the point." Jade's expression turned awkward as she said, "Actually, I came to apologize. Please have mercy on us. The Walters can't take this anymore!" "Why not? But Allen must admit that he was engaged with Rosie, and Lydia has been the third wheeler all along."

She turned around and saw an ice cream man passing in front of the driver's car who wouldn't let her out of his sight. *** Rose let herself go on her bed of exhaustion. She felt like she had walked all over the city... She had bought provisions and food tonight... She could go more than a month without worrying about her stomach. And she was still alive... That money wasn't as bad as she thought... The next day... The weather was bad and the young woman was panicking... She didn't want to wake up and look for a thousand and one ways to dodge what was going to happen tonight. She could pretend to have a cold or a contagious disease. She could run away... However, none of her plans seemed to w

She took a quick glance into the plate and looked away sullenly. "Won't you eat? Oh I see, you're handcuffed...hahaha."I moved behind her and untied the rope. I discovered that I had tied the rope too tightly, the rope had eaten into her skin. She rubbed her hand, trying to get blood circulation in her hand. I stubbed my cigarette, then told her: "Eat up", and then walked out of the room, making sure to lock the door after me. VANESSA

, he had no more debts to repay. If there were ever a life beyond this one, he hoped, that he would never cross paths with these people. He stayed like that for a while, his vitality slowly getting drained away and soon, he'd be left lifeless. [Host has successfully activated the: WITHERED ROSE, system.] [Host's vitality is decreasing at an alarming rate. Initiating immediate resuscitation!!] What was that?. Who's there?! Alan paused, listening to the automated feminine voice as it spoke through his consciousness. He was certain that he was at the depths of the sea at this point,it was currently impossible for someone else to be around him. He relaxed - Probably he was just hearing things.

“Uhm… oh, I meant I have things to do, so I don’t have a particular day.” Just then, I immediately walked out the door, heading down through the elevator, It was almost 12 AM, and Rose would take over her body soon, I had only a limited time to enjoy myself. FUCK!! I took a cab and went back home, sneaking inside quietly, I didn’t want that bitch’s parents asking useless questions but fortunately or unfortunately the motherfucking asshole of their daughter Rose couldn’t wait, taking over her body before I could even drop my bag. And yeah… Rose is finally in charge now. Watch her do her thing.

Each breath carries the flavor of gun oil and the metallic hint of blood I cleaned from Isla’s nose today when she sneezed, the color a red-gold shade, like a molten sunset. She found it amusing. My five-year-old giggled as her nose dripped the hues of the city. I did not. I’m wiping down the rifle for the fourth round my hands working automatically when the basement door squeaks and Rosa descends the stairs. She’s dressed in tactical pants and one of my worn Marine hoodies with the sleeves cut off to reveal scars that never fully healed. Her machetes are fastened across her like wings. “You resemble death’s bookkeeper " she remarks, her voice hoarse, from sleeplessness.

Her breath hitched, her eyes scanning the whole area for the sight of Freya and Orson. “They must be back.” She muttered, sniffing the air that seemed to carry the familiar scent of her brother. Ryan and Elena strode behind her, gently taking steps with their hearts thumping in their chests. They wanted nothing but for the whole ordeal to end. Freya and Orson needed to be back so their minds would be at rest. When they got inside the pack, their eyes widened, falling on Rosa, who’d slumped to the floor. She was sniffling, her eyes red and shedding tears.

The woods are silent. Someone mutters, “Thought this place was supposed to be crawling with different abominations.” “It was,” I say. All heads turn towards me. I hop down from the truck and walk past them. I didn't take permission and I didn't hesitate. Jaxon lets me. I look up the trees where werewolf skulls are being hung as a reminder of the dead. It was a forbidden tradition but I did it anyway. The first skull hangs from a tree branch. It had been bleached, clean, and polished by time and weather.

“I’ve got a location.” “Where?” “North ridge. That old observatory. Remember?” She nodded once. “No signal?” “None. Not even a whisper.” Good. Rosalita intercepted us as we moved down the corridor. She didn’t panic, not the way most people would’ve with all the cameras disabled and the whole house humming like something had gone still in its veins. She knew what kind of home she worked in. What kind of people we were. “She’s still asleep,” the older woman said softly. “Do I wake her?”