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THE WALKING DEAD - Our Broken World

Casey Guidry

Name : Casey Guidry
Age : 30

: Skills :
Woodwork - ability to make and repair structures using wood.
Intimidation - ability to frighten others through physical or verbal stimulus.
Hand-to-Hand Combat - ability to confront others physically at short range.

: Preferred Weapons :
Glock 22 - taken from a deceased correctional officer.

: Brief Bio :
A night’s mistake led to an eight year sentence without reasonable bail in general population. Casey was charged and imprisoned for aggravated battery at the young age of twenty two years old - before the world’s inevitable collapse. He served his sentence with hard labor all while destruction crumbled the globe unbeknownst to him. Prisoners had limited exposure to the outside world during their sentence (even before the end) so their knowledge of the unfolding disease and the reanimation of corpses was nonexistent. Many prisoners rioted during this time, their privileges stripped inhumanely as the federal government stopped funding these facilities. Their treatment followed as prison guards began to exercise their rights to use force when necessary more frequently than before - foreman no longer regulating the code of conduct. Food shortages, unsanitary conditions and a crumbled system imploded the prison from the seemingly fortress it was to the outside world. Prisoners started to die from hunger and disease but they came back to life in their cells - shot to death and burned in their cells. Casey escaped when the prison became overrun by the dead and the guards’ humanity opened some of the cells. Casey was one of the lucky ones and escaped.

THE WALKING DEAD - Our Broken World

Casey Guidry

Name : Casey Guidry
Age : 30

: Skills :
Woodwork - ability to make and repair structures using wood.
Intimidation - ability to frighten others through physical or verbal stimulus.
Hand-to-Hand Combat - ability to confront others physically at short range.

: Preferred Weapons :
Glock 22 - taken from a deceased correctional officer.

: Brief Bio :
A night’s mistake led to an eight year sentence without reasonable bail in general population. Casey was charged and imprisoned for aggravated battery at the young age of twenty two years old - before the world’s inevitable collapse. He served his sentence with hard labor all while destruction crumbled the globe unbeknownst to him. Prisoners had limited exposure to the outside world during their sentence (even before the end) so their knowledge of the unfolding disease and the reanimation of corpses was nonexistent. Many prisoners rioted during this time, their privileges stripped inhumanely as the federal government stopped funding these facilities. Their treatment followed as prison guards began to exercise their rights to use force when necessary more frequently than before - foreman no longer regulating the code of conduct. Food shortages, unsanitary conditions and a crumbled system imploded the prison from the seemingly fortress it was to the outside world. Prisoners started to die from hunger and disease but they came back to life in their cells - shot to death and burned in their cells. Casey escaped when the prison became overrun by the dead and the guards’ humanity opened some of the cells. Casey was one of the lucky ones and escaped.

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Grant Coleman - Golden Eagle Bar - Finn @Juniper and Nathalie @wolverbells

After the unfolding conflict, Coleman's crew and their new members took a half-hour drive back to their foxhole - a bar left over from the civil rights era called the the Golden Eagle. During a time where a blacks were unable to express themselves publicity, the Golden Eagle opened to give colored people that privilege. Famous artists from all over the world traveled through there, performing their music in hopes of fueling the movement that eventually gave the decent human rights. Now owned by a drug fueled kingpin, the Golden Eagle continued to house those trying to survive the oppression of the world. A paradox that Coleman loved to immerse himself into.

In any case, the sun was now rising from the abyss. Night had come as quickly as it went and a new day was just beginning. Finn and Nathalie would wake up to find themselves locked in an empty supply closet. They were put there the night before to ensure their ability to comply with commands. They did not want to find themselves at odds with Grant Coleman and his temperament. Either way, it was breakfast time and the crew ate together so the door to their confinement flew open - a well known African tone greeting them ever so gently.

"Wake up whities!" the call came when the door flung open and crashed against the wall. Abeni stood there with a plate of grits and greasy bacon. "Breakfast is ready," she added, nodding for them to follow her suit. Coming out of the closet one could see most of the bar tables filled with men and women of all ethnicities. Many of them - just like Finn and Nathalie - had been robbed from their previous life and instructed to follow under Coleman's command. All of them however enjoying the luxuries of working with a man so connected to the world around them.

Coleman was nowhere to be seen, Abeni guiding Finn and Nathalie to the kitchen to pick up their food. "This is Gregory, he was a chef before all of this craziness. He's still a chef," she said with a smile, a meaning behind her words the two newcomers may yet too understand. Gregory went ahead and fixed each of them a plate, handing it to them before they returned to the kitchen and were sat in their own booth, Abeni joining them momentarily. "We will be leaving soon for business, so eat fast."

With that, the woman stepped away with her plate in hand - heading into the back office where Coleman appeared to be. The members around eyed the newbies, whispering amongst themselves. One actually stood from his seat and headed over in their direction, sitting down before them in their booth. "New guys huh?" he asked rhetorically, making himself comfortable in their presence. "Heard you guys stole from Mr. Grant, that real?" he asked them, referencing the items they took from the mall which in reality were not Coleman's possessions. "What are your names? Mine's Jackson...It's a pleaser to meet you," he greeted, extending a hand and flashing a smirk.

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Casey Guidry - The House - Molly @Weeping Raven

- NOW -

As Molly approached the house, the chaos commenced - gunshots storming Casey's childhood home, the blasts echoing through the empty neighborhood. Abruptly, a body flew through the second story window and plunged to the concrete path that led to the front door. The woolly man landed on his neck, meeting his end instantaneously. Blood leaked from his nose and lesions he suffered from gunshot wounds prior to his death fall. His body completely still and soundless, laying face down as if self tanning under the sun-filled afternoon. Yet the clattering continued in the home, the sound more prominent as it beamed through the shattered window - calling the two walkers Molly thought she could handle.

Inside, Casey was at war against a single aggressor. With both their weapons knocked from their grasp, the men battled with brawn. His opponent a six foot two giant with legs for arms and an already broken nose. He appeared increasingly provoked after Casey launched his comrade through the window. The man was like a beast, arms swinging wildly without any care for form or technique - it was like the street fights one watched when Youtube still existed. For a man his stature however, he moved rather quickly - stomping through the room like crazy rhinoceros. Casey used that to his advantage, ducking the punches as they came and counter-striking when the opportunity presented itself.

- BEFORE -

The whiskey splashed against the rim of the glass, filling the space about a fourth of the way. The liquid bubbled slightly as it smoothed itself out. The smell of its fragrance bled through the kitchen, putting shame to the canned bean odor. Ray handed Casey one of the glasses as the two men shared a drink in solitary. His wife Beth was reading upstairs in bed before calling it a night - she had already dismissed herself.

Taking a sip, Casey leaned forward on the granite island enjoying the drink's texture and taste. "So what did you before all of this Ray?" he asked his host, looking around at all the classy decorations around the house. Ray noticed Casey's eyes skimming the furnishing which made him chuckle. "No, we're not rich..." he responded, knowing exactly what was going through the young man's mind. "Beth worked with the airports. She's the one that brought in all the money. She did that so I could follow my dreams," he stated with a smile, eyes looking into space as he reminisced on their life before.

"Dreams?" Casey wondered.

"Yeah, sooo.....I wanted to be a fighter," he admitted, nodding left and right with a grin on his face. "I got signed too, can you believe it?!" he said excitingly as he went on to finish his whiskey, putting the glass facedown on the counter.

"You were a fighter?"

"I still am Casey, I just don't fight in an octagon anymore. My old man was a fighter. UFC, you may have heard of him. Don Turner? Heavyweight? Bald guy?" he explained, forgetting that Casey had been locked up for years and had no access to television, especially anything that involved fighting. "Well yea, I always dreamed of making it to the UFC myself. Before this I actually got signed to Bellator. Unfortunately the venues started to close down when the world turned to shit, but I'm not mad. I'm alive and so is Beth, so that's all that matters to me. Why? Were you a fighter?"

Casey put his glass down and smiled. "No."

"Well, I can teach you a couple things if you'd like. We've got all the time int he world now my friend and it'll be good for both of us. Sooner or later we'll have to defend ourselves. So we might as well get ready..."

- NOW -

With a clenched fist, Casey made contact against the giant's left eye socket. His knuckle immediately turned red from how hard the impact was - similar to punching a refrigerator with all his might. The giant was not even phased by the attack, swinging at Casey with his forearm without flinching. Casey blocked the hit and returned with another fist to the left eye. That attack however stunned the giant back a step, forcing him to blink chaotically as he shook his brain back in place. He grinned his teeth, rushing forward with his arms extended in hopes of catching Casey.

Casey took a step back, but did not realize he was up against the wall. His escape route quickly faded away as the giant cut the distance between them in half with a single step. His leg-arms came crashing together around Casey's waist, lifting him up off the ground and squeezing as tightly as possible. Casey tried to fight off the grip, but wasn't able to battle against he man's superior strength. He was beginning to lose oxygen, finding it difficult to breathe as the man crushed his insides. "Damn-" he cursed, trying to think quickly about what to do.

Without hesitation he grabbed the man by the hair with one hand. He pulled his head forward and battered his face against his elbow. He busted him repeatedly until the let go, blood spurting from an open wound in his forehead. The giant couldn't see, backpedaling against a wall as he tired to wipe the blood from his eyes. Breathing heavily, Casey walked over and picked up his gun. Calmly he pointed it at his opponent who held up his in defense and mercy.

-

Another gunshot rung and echoed out of the house. Walkers slowly dragging themselves towards the sound - their clouded eyes drawn to the appetizing young girl. It had only been a couple of minutes since his downfall, but the window-jumper was beginning to animate himself back to life. His shoulders started to rotate as though he was putting his bones back into place. His jaw opening and closing violently as saliva drooled from his lips. He started to crawl, neck twisting as his eyes pinpointed its target. He knees scratched the pavement, leaving blood trails as he moved towards Molly.

At her back, the walker couple were now closing the distance. They moaned in harmony, mirroring the twins from the Shining as they continued down the street towards their dinner. Casey was still inside the house, not aware of the events that unfolded in his proximity.

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Grant Coleman - Cabin/Finn's Shelter - Nathalie @wolverbells and Finn @Juniper

Despite being without advantage, the naked girl deterred from harassment by discharging numerous threats of her own. Her spunk made Grant smile from ear to ear, seeing as his men took her attacks to heart - their hands gripping their weapons ever so tightly. She was smart, trying to play to his kind heart and inability to hurt a woman. He truly did have gentleman intentions coming in, but it appeared the girl wasn't someone to trifle with. Her overall judgment however was flawed, she had no real idea what he was capable of but wasn't about to reveal his winning hand just yet. So he played her game, ordering his men to turn around and look away as she made her way out of the creek - his eyes still drawn to her and her curved physique.

All of a sudden a voice broke through the walkie strapped to his belt. "We got em," the voice exclaimed, the grin on Grant's face growing wider with delight. His men chuckled at their current achievement - the mission was a success. He looked over to Nathalie, "Looks like my friends found your friends..." he said menacingly. He hoped she didn't expect to run away at this point, that was never going to be an option for her. He played the game and he won, like always.

"How about we go say hello?"

-

Leaves fell from the trees surrounding the cabin as a light warm breeze flowed through the bushes. The sound of footsteps brushed the dirt and lingered in the silence - as though the woods closed in on itself. The moon reflected off the eyes of predators in the area. They slithered around their prey, sealing off all possible exit routes. The singular bronze man had just made his entrance into the arena and was faced with imminent danger. Like the animals they were they growled a chuckle as they descended upon Finn the defenseless. A braided African woman crawled forward on all fours, tongue exposed as saliva drooled from its tip. Her head snaking left and right as she hissed at Finn. "You look yummy boy!" she hooted as others started to reveal themselves from their hiding spots.

Five more individuals joined the fray, muzzles pointed at the lone wolf standing in center stage. The braided woman stood to her feet, sharp teeth exposed through her smile. She reached for her pocket and pulled out a two-way radio, pressing the button to speak to the other side. "We got em..." she stated in her African tone, golden eyes peering into Finn's soul - trying to decipher everything she could about him through a mere glance. Out of everyone, she bore the darkest skin and took pride in it. He African blood a sign of her upbringing and heritage - two of the things that helped her adapt quicker to this new profound world. Her ears were pierced by three or four different pieces of jewelry, all different and all handmade. Her clothes were tattered for someone that cared so much about her outward appearance, but the apocalypse wasn't kind to anyone these days.

"My boss is coming big-boy. Step up, prep up! I say you get on your knees before he come yah?" she uttered wildly, hand gesturing utter nonsense as her body moved franticly in segments. She was strange one for sure.

-

It didn't take long for Grant and the rest of the boys to join the cabin detail crew. They gathered around the campground, their numbers multiplying like ants. If the survivors thought they were outnumbered before, they now understood they were way out of their league. Still not truly understanding the intentions of their assailants, they were forced to play the guessing game for a while - just like Grant wanted it. He was well known in his previous life as a chess player turned gangster - an unlikely connection brewed by his environment. He was a very smart man, a child prodigy in elementary school who grew to become a top dog in the drug scene around southern Florida.

Making his grand entrance, Grant formed into view with Nathalie by his side - hands tied behind her back and a gun placed uncomfortably on her neck. "Well well, what do we have here? What's your name big man?" the rhetoric continued like clockwork as he asked for introductions. He looked Finn from head to toe, not impressed by his dress style or big muscles. He turned to Abeni (the African woman from earlier) and signaled her and another crew member to go up into the cabin. He was there for supplies and he would make sure to leave with them.

"Oh man, I really do apologize for ruining your night. For both of you of course..." he started, walking around Finn as Trevor took his place to secure Nathalie's obedience. "I'm sure you two planned to have some fun by the lake before we got here. It truly was not my intention to mess up your special night, but were on a business trip and things must be done before sunrise. We followed you all the way from the mall you know? I saw your...competency together while taking out all of those ramblers. Very impressed. We could use guys like you out there in the front lines taking care of business. You see, people are stepping in our turf and well...we can't have that." Grant paused a moment to look at the cabin above, impressed by how well hidden it was. He turned back to Finn with a puffed bottom lip. "You did that?" he asked sarcastically, dazzled by the survivors creativity.

"Anyway, we've also come for what's rightfully ours. You both unfortunately stole from us. I know, I know, you didn't know it was ours, you're probably new around here, but this is all ours," he expressed, hands gesturing the entire world. "I'm a business man at the end of the day and as you know I've got quite the demand for supplies right now. So I supply the supplies, that's how it works, that's how I keep all of these people here fed. Now, you two have options. You owe us, so you can help repay that debt by joining our little organization, play well with the others and we'll fill your stomachs too until your debts are fully paid. You can go your own way when it's done, no repercussions. Or don't...and well..." he paused, walking back over to Nathalie and pressing his gun onto the side of her temple. "...pay with your lives..."

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Casey Guidry - Home - Molly @Weeping Raven

- Before -

Lawyer Harold Knowles sat on a black foldable chair in complete silence, eyes shifting between his client and his client's father. He fiddled with his paperwork, questioning Casey's current state of mind as he started to pack up. "Umm...do you understand Mr. Guidry? Or do you need me to explain it to you again?" he asked, having explained the sentencing imposed by the court twice at this point. "Due to your...current involvement in the altercation, the court has ordered to remove your visitation privileges, implement penal labor and increase your sentence to eight years. I know this sounds like the worse case scenario, but we are going to dig into your mistreatment and hope to reduce your sentence again."

Yet Casey didn't utter a response. He stared blankly at the center table with is hand clasped together in his lap, wrist handcuffed and chaining together. He felt himself uncomfortably heavy, one eye nearly shut from how bruised it was. He felt the number on his chest burn through his shirt as though it was being engraved to his skin. The cause of his imprisonment playing on loop in his head like an endless nightmare. He could still see the bruising on his knuckles from that night years ago, feeling how difficult it was to use his hands. "Son!"

He snapped out of it, looking up at both men sitting around him. "It's fine, I understand. Thank you Harold," he finally responded, eyes shifting back down. Harold swallowed and stood, pushing his chair closer to the table as he moved in the direction of the exit. "If you have any questions please don't hesitate to call," he suggested, leaving his business card with Casey's father.

"It's alright son, we are going to get through this."

The word we caught Casey's attention, leaving an awful taste in his mouth as though he had said it. He felt disrespected, targeted by his own father's ignorance and inability to understand the situation. "We? WE?!" Casey started, jumping off his chair and slamming the table with his hands as he shouted at this father. "YOU'RE NOT THE ONE IN THERE! I AM! I AM IN THERE ALONE! I'VE BEEN IN THERE FOR FIVE YEARS! FIVE YEARS WHERE NOTHING GOOD HAPPENED! You have no idea..."

- Now -

Reaching the front door of his childhood home, Casey quickly drew his weapon from this belt. Noticing the cracked windows and busted door, he lead with the muzzle - finger on the trigger and eyes forward. Using his foot he pushed the door open ever so slightly, the creak making him cringe as he peeked down the hall with one eye. There was no one or anything in sight, the hallway simply muddled with clutter. Slowly he moved in, keeping his back against the wall as he slid his way deeper into the house. The furniture was ripped to shreds, big ticket items like their television tossed aside and their kitchen completely ransacked. It smelled awful.

Casey started moving a bit faster through the home now, cruising swiftly through the corridors as he checked every room for signs of life. He didn't mutter a word, keeping silent until he knew the entire house was cleared. Upon securing the first floor he moved towards the staircase, walking up each step with caution. The situation at hand demanded all of his attention and concentration, not granting him the second to recollect on his childhood adventures. He was overly concerned with finding a sign of his parents whereabouts - wether inside the home or not.

Reaching the second floor he navigated through each room, making sure to check every possible hiding space he could. Making his way into his parents bedroom he paused for a second before entering - as if preparing himself for the worst possible outcome. He pushed the door open, eyes wide as he charged forward with his pistol. He came to find an empty room, it's condition the same as all the others - destroyed. He sighed in relief, taking a seat on his parents bed as he stared blankly into the restroom. Not finding them was disheartening, but not dreadful. The fact that they weren't there meant that they may have escaped somewhere safer. It was clear their neighborhood had gone through something catastrophic, but its emptiness gave Casey a sliver of hope. There was no signs of trauma, no blood, no seeming conflict or shells anywhere. The house was more than likely targeted after his parents had left.

Nevertheless it was hurting Casey to have come all this way to find an empty house. He put his gun down next to him and rubbed his hands up his face and through his hair - inhaling deeply and exhaling with slight frustration. Then suddenly, out of thin air he heard glass cracking downstairs. Blood rushed through him like a speeding bullet, urging him back to his feet. He took his gun, leading himself back into the second floor hallway. The silence returned as he walked over the wooden floors, feeling his boots press gently against the hickory hardwood. He glanced over the rails that connected to the stairs and saw a shadow pass by. He started to hear whispers and the stairs groaning under heavy footsteps. "I know I saw him come in this house man," a voice murmured.

Casey turned quickly, darting back into his parents room. He kneeled and shut the door as quietly as humanly possible before sneaking to the nearest window. He pulled the curtains apart, listening to two different voices in the room next door. "It's clear," he made out to be said by one of the individuals. Desperately, Casey attempted to open the window but to no avail. His father had nailed the windows down a long time ago after Casey was discovered to have snuck out in the middle of the night when he was young. "Shit..." he cursed under his breath, moving back towards the door and leaning on the wall behind it. The voices were now right outside of the bedroom and the knob started to turn...

-

Grant Coleman - The Creek - Nathalie @wolverbells

The forest crept with darkness at night, an almost pure hue if it wasn't for the figures that lingered in the shadows. Surrounding the creek they gathered, their skin obscuring them from view. They camouflaged like animals, but held the silhouette of human beings. "A beautiful night for a swim..." a voice came from the trees ahead, coarse and full of life. Leaves shifted around the creek as bodies started to appear anomalously - surrounding Nathalie. The speaker crouched before the unclothed girl, a silver gat in his left hand and big smile on his face - the only features she could see before he got closer.

Once he neared the brim of the creek, the clear water reflected enough moonlight to give life to the outline. His features started forming, showcasing a light stubble, a short fro and skin color she had probably yet to come across. He gestured her to be quiet by brining his index finger over his lips, shushing her at will. "Look around you, you're surrounded," he revealed, other bodies closing in and around the creek - all armed to the teeth and all of the same kind. "We were going to wait until the morning, but you gave us quite the opportunity. We followed you guys all the way from the mall into the forest. We lost you at one point, but then we heard your car beeping. Sound sure does travel through these woods now doesn't it?" he asked rhetorically, giving Nathalie the rundown as he knelt to close the distance between them.

"How about you get dressed and we go have a couple of words with your friends? We'd like very much to meet them," he proposed menacingly, playing with the gun on his hand as he looked around at all of his colleagues. The six men around watched the girl with grins on their faces, most lusting over her exposed physique. "C'mon G, let me get a piece of that fine ass first though!" one of the henchmen uttered disruptively.

The charisma faded from the Grant's face immediately, not taking a liking to the vulgar request. He raised from being crouched, eyebrows narrowing as his smile retired. "Shut your goddam mouth nigga!" he ordered intimidatingly, lifting his desert eagle in the man's proximal direction. "Say some stupid shit again and it'll be the last thing you say. Understood?" the rhetorics continued. The henchman gulped in fear despite having the bigger gun. It was obvious at this point - if it wasn't before - who was in charge and who was to be feared.

Dusting off the dirt from his knees, Grant turned back to Nathalie. "Where are my manners. My name is Grant Coleman, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please, get dressed and let's wake your friends up. We've got business to discuss."

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Casey Guidry - Road - Molly @Weeping Raven

- Before -

Chaired in the visitation room, Casey examined his facial bruises and lacerations on the bulletproof glass. His face and body physically damaged after being attacked by numerous inmates three days prior. He was found by a guards over a puddle of his own blood with broken ribs and difficulty breathing. It was the fourth or fifth time he'd been attacked while inside, but the first time he felt completely defenseless. The attack was retaliation for his refusal to join a boisterous group - trying to remain independent. The beatdown a way to show him that he did need protection - but if attackers were defenders, then an altercation like this proved them untrustworthy. Next time he'd kill them.

On the other side of the glass the twin doors flew open into the visitors room. Through them walked a figure posthaste and stopped before Casey's window, eyeing him with despair. Casey titled his chin, eyes connecting with the one person he never thought he would see again - Elizabeth. She placed a hand on the glass as worry clouded her facial features, body dropping to the seat across him as she reached for the phone.

Casey brought his own phone to his ear, looking down at the counter as he took a deep breath of realization. "Are you okay?" he heard through the phone, Elizabeth's voice as soft as he remembered. It had been years since his sentence, since he last saw her on that courtroom stand. Never did he blame her for speaking her truth and never did he stop loving her. When his father told him he'd never see her again, he believed it but kept her at heart. "How's John?" he mustered, holding back the desire to show emotions by closing his eyes and turning away from her.

"He's fine...are you?" Elizabeth asked, holding back the tears she would years ago be unable to control. It was clear how much his imprisonment affected her, but she was showing how much she'd grown in their time apart. Nevertheless she still had every intention of reconciling with Casey and forgive him for what he'd done. "I miss you," she whispered, head tilting slightly as she gulped away her fears of rejection.

"I love you so much..." Casey whispered back, his eyes watering with guilt. "I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you. All I've ever wanted was to keep you safe. I failed."

- Now -

As to say it was ready to go, the Taurus rumbled as Casey helped Molly to her seat. He noticed the dirt on some of her clothes and her overall condition. It was clear she had been stripped of a normal teenage life - one of newly-found adult freedoms like getting her drivers license, going to college and finding a new meaning in life. However, being deprived of such liberties made her tougher, more understanding of this new reality. Just by the way he eyed him, Casey was able to tell there was more to her than met the eye.

In hopes of getting on his way, Casey moved around the vehicle - gathering his pistol before mounting the driver's seat. "Nice to meet you, Molly," he replied while shutting the door and rolling the window down. "At least we don't smell as bad those things" he joked, looking at the walker reflecting off his rear view mirror. He was trying to lighten the mood after hearing about her family. Her story hit close to home as Casey himself was trying to find his parents. He decided not to comment on the matter however and moved on mentally.

Switching gears and hitting the gas the survivors started down the road, the walker disappearing from view. There was no music, there was no air conditioning, only the silence filling the space between them and the wind that traveled through the open windows. Casey would glance over at Molly from time to time to ensure her comfort and his own security. He didn't necessarily see her as a threat or feel any ill-intent from the kid, but one could never be too careful - too careful wasn't a thing in the apocalypse. Clearing his throat he decided to initiate some conversation. "Ahem...so, Molly, where exactly were you headed? Where does this road lead for you?" he asked her, side-eyeing her when he could.

Casey wondered if she was also looking for her family. but earlier revelation sounded like she had already gave up on that quest. He didn't want to probe into her private life for two reasons; one, it wasn't his business to begin with and two, bringing history to light could put him at odds with her. As trivial as it sounded, Casey didn't want to hurt her feelings. He didn't necessarily care for her personally, but had reached a state of mind that pushed him to do better for himself. Maybe it was a brewing belief that there was something after. Maybe it was simply a way to pay for his wrongdoings in the life before. Either way, he was here now with Molly and would do what he could to do right by her. He's the one that extended his hand after all, he didn't have to stop.

-

Roughly twenty minutes later the two of them had entered central Florida - Taurus rolling through the broken city that once housed the most spring-breakers in the world. They were in the suburbs where houses of similar build and color surrounded them in every direction. All of them however torn to shreds, ransacked by whatever had washed over the neighborhood. Every door appeared kicked-in and every window shattered - difficult to tell if the damage was manmade or manmade. Casey let off the accelerator as he maneuvered around the stalled vehicles - all empty. "Roll up your window, keep your eyes open," he instructed Molly, his own eyes focused on their surroundings.

He was becoming anxious, worried at what he would find when they turned the corner. His parent's house lay walking distance at this point and by the looks of it, will be found in the same condition as the rest of the homes. Removing the pistol from his belt, he turned the corner cautiously, stopping as soon as he entered the cul-de-sac. Pulling the emergency brake, shifting to park and turning the vehicle off, Casey twisted and pulled Molly's rifle from the back. "Here..." he started, handing her her rifle. "Stay here, I have to check the house over there. If anything happens here's the key..." he said, giving up his only mode of transportation. "Try not to leave without me." With that Casey rolled up his window and exited the car, motioning her to lock the doors before heading towards the house. He hoped his parents were still there...alive.

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Hey all! Here’s a Discord Chatroom Link for anyone wanting to join!

Link: discord.gg/DNDUEsP

One Piece: An Original Story

I'm interested. I've never gotten far enough into One Piece to understand the world and the lore, so I'm more into the small-crew-of-pirates aspect of the story where each individual's dream tie in to the big goal of the entire crew.

The Walking Dead - Hell on Earth

Casey Guidry - Road - Molly @Weeping Raven

- Before -

The scorching heat burned the tiny hairs on Casey's arms. His eyes reflected the light produced by the surging flames that ate away at everything Ray had ever owned. The poor man's plead echoed over the roaring inferno. "BETH!!! BETH!!!" he'd bawl for his wife, crashing on all fours as he listened to her wails in the storm. Casey held the man back by the shirt, preventing him from diving into the fire in hopes of saving a corpse. Ray struggled to be set free, his home crumbling like his body. Tears streamed down his face as he clawed at the dirt under him - dragging himself forward through sheer will.

"No Ray! It's too late!" Casey hated to admit, pulling Ray back and shoving him away from the house. "She's gone!" he reiterated, trying to make sense of the events that led up to the catastrophe. Ray's facial expression changed immediately. His eyes turned red, veins popped from his forehead and rage imploded him back to his feet. "You...you were supposed to get her out! You were supposed to get her out!! Her! Not me! You were supposed to get her out!" he attacked, shoving Casey back against the fence - striking the treated pine wood with his knuckles.

"I couldn't get to her..." Casey muttered, hands up in defense. When the house was attacked he was instructed to keep Beth safe, but the stairs burned first and he was unable to get to her. Within seconds the rest of the house started to light up and before he knew it there weren't any options left. He decided to get himself and Ray out in hopes of...regrouping and figuring out what to do next, but that was the wrong choice. He should have gone up those stairs, let himself burn to save her. The upstairs windows were boarded up to keep people out, who would have know they would be Beth's demise.

"I'm sorry..." was all Casey had left to say. He was struck into silence by everything that happened - he had no more words.

"Get out of my sight...If I see you again, I'll kill you. I promise."

- Now -

Casey watched as the young girl complied with his request, lowering her weapons and belongings onto the road they were on. She had quite the rifle, making Casey wonder if she knew how to use it. Maybe the girl wasn't so helpless after all? "I'm going to remove my gun now..." he broadcasted, letting it be known he would adhere to her request as she did to his. He moved at the speed of molasses, hand gripping the handgun strapped to his belt and displaying it on the hood of his car.

"I'm Casey," he introduced, not lingering on the idea that she may be able to look up his name online - because there was no internet anymore. His files, his record and previous life was gone. He was no longer a prisoner...as a matter of fact, he was NEVER a prisoner in this world. He could be whoever he wanted to be. It was a freedom unlike any other. If he wanted to be a police officer he could. If he wanted to be a lawyer he could. The only thing that stood in his way was his own conscious and inability to lie that way.

In any case, Casey started to move towards the girl. "Let me get this for you. What's your name anyway?" he asked, reaching her belongings and picking them from the below - motioning his intent to simply put them in the vehicle, not steal them. "Your mom is a smart lady. Is she still around?" he asked, a simpler and sugar-coated way of asking about her condition. At this point he'd made his way back to the vehicle and threw her belongings in the backseat, opening the front passenger seat for her to get in. "I think it's best if we get going, we don't want to be in the open for much longer."