Walking Dead Indifference Novels & Stories

His eyes were wide with trepidation as he relayed the message. "The Alpha of the walkers has arrived in Canada," Williams said, his voice quivering. "He's known for his brutality, and both Derick and Blake fear him." My heart sank. The Alpha of the walkers was infamous for his ruthlessness and unyielding dominance. His presence would undoubtedly complicate our already precarious situation.

I didn’t even know if I’d be able to drive home in this state. I practically crawled my way over to Jack’s room—or what I had remembered was Jack’s room and knocked on the door. “Coming,” I heard Jack’s groggy voice on the other side of the door. Okay, so I had remembered his room correctly. He opened the door for me, and I went in, falling over on his couch. “Fuck, man, I thought werewolves weren’t supposed to get hangovers!” I moaned. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking bad,” he agreed.

Just like all the other previous floors, it was quiet, no staff, no warriors, just an empty shell of a high-tech hospital. Adam looked down each side of the hallway and sniffed the air, "You smell that?" "Blood," I muttered under my breath. I could smell it the moment I stepped foot on this floor. "And fresh by the smell of it." "You think Aaron got here before us?" "Maybe, look," I pointed to a dead warrior at the end of the hallway. He was partially changed to his dark grey wolf. Adam and I cautiously paced down the hallway towards the dead warrior. He was a young man, and his lifeless eyes were wide open, looking like he just seen a ghost.

KATHERINE WALKS AWAY. MARCUS DOES NOT ANSWER. BEN SELLS EARLY. AALIYAH IS NOT FOUND. HALEY STAYS SHALLOW. Jack stood slowly. Each title hit like a fist. Katherine touched the door marked KATHERINE WALKS AWAY. It trembled under her fingers, and for a moment Jack saw the first dinner again. Vance's hand. Susan's smile. David's calculation. Katherine's face turning aside, not from cruelty, but exhaustion shaped into indifference.

Their foul smell made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I knocked on the door once, and it quickly opened. Zechariah was revealed. It had been long since I had seen him. The last time I met him, he wasn't quite welcoming. I placed my hands in the pockets of my black jeans and gave him a smirk. He kept a straight face, not buying my friendly gesture. "Mr. Zechariah Walker," I spoke gently. "What do you want, bloodsucker?" He asked rudely. I chuckled slowly, not wanting to get angry at his words. I knew he never liked me, so there was no use in causing violence.

“Stop this, Walker. You´re going to face my rage if you don´t stop this now. I don´t want Marcus to end up getting killed in the process.” Walker scoffs. “Oh please, Laura. I´m the First Vampire. I´m unkillable. That´s something this poor boy needs to realize as well. Sometime you don´t exact revenge by killing the object of your hatred. Most of the time, it involves you killing a part of yourself instead.” Walker moves towards Patrick. “So, face me, Patrick Grayson. Although I can´t promise you that you´ll come out of this alive.” I obstruct Walker´s path. “I can´t allow you to do that. You´ll have to go through me first.”

She couldn't believe it that she witnessed the changes of the world. The zombies slowly walked like a snail on the road. Psyche looked around as she felt something wrong with these zombies. Why does she felt that they are ignoring her? Psyche's eyes shone as she thought, "Maybe, they cannot see people on the ground?" "Grrrrr!!" Many.zombies groaned as they saw a group of people walked out the convenience store. They looked at Psyche but looked away immediately as they many zombies around her. Psyche was confused as to why they are looking away from her like she's a dead meat.

Quickly, we all got up and mount our guns, I push the zombie aside and lift my bloodstained bag. Mel sigh, “Daywalkers”. Unlike the nightwalker, the daywalkers seem easy to kill. They are slow, weak and lack the sense of teamwork. Seven of them shuffled towards us, dragging their feet. Eddy shot three in a snap while I aimed for a headshot, but my bullet hit the shoulder instead, the zombie jerk, but it kept dragging its feet. 'Don't be a newbie' - I said to myself then, I took my time before pulling the trigger again, the zombie drop immediately the bullet lodges into its forehead.

“What’s the point of talking about this now? Whether in my past life or this one, I can never forgive you. The best outcome for us is to never see each other again.” I looked away and clung tighter to Marco’s arm. “Come on.” Marco glanced at me, then at the disheveled figure on the opposite side of the street. Not asking any questions, he gripped my hand tighter. “Alright. Let’s go home.” In the back, the shadow sank to his knees as scattered chamomile petals swirled across the ground in the wind. Still, not a single soul turned back.

He stood a few steps away, his gaze fixed on them—not with anger, not with rage… But with something far more terrifying. Indifference. "Do not hold back because of their titles," he continued, his tone even, almost bored. "Their ranks will not shield them here." Another strike landed. And another scream followed. "Please—mercy—!" The word sounded foreign in their mouths. As if they had never expected to need it. As if they had never imagined they would be the ones begging. Theorone stepped closer, his boots stopping just before one of the elders who had slumped forward, barely holding himself up as blood ran down his back, dripping slowly to the stone beneath him.