Fallen (Part Two)
Fallen (Part Two) fiction stories
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kaylynn
kaylynn Awkward writer girl
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Fallen (Part Two)

"You aren't supposed to be here."

Lilith sighs quietly, the puff of air echoing in the tense nursery.

The weight of death against her head is familiar, her eyes fluttering slightly at the relief that could come from the barrel.

"You know that won't work on me." She murmurs, carefully folding the aged paper.

Black, leather gloves yank Lilith to her feet.

She is turned to face her attacker, the nuzzle digging into the underside of her chin in an attempt to frighten.

But the subtle shake of their grip on her upper arm proves otherwise.

Lilith tilts her head down, coolly gazing at the man. She glances down at the finger resting beside the trigger, snidely curling her lip.

"At least make good on your threats, Dagger."

Dagger pushes the gun further up, his face obscured by a soot black bandanna. A dark ball cap rests low on his brow, a pair of scratched sunglasses hiding his expressive eyes.

'Seems he took my advice', she muses.

"Why are you here? You aren't supposed to be here." He states again, spiking a surge of rage in Lilith that she hasn't felt in a long time.

In mere seconds, Lilith is aiming Dagger's firearm at his knee cap as he sits on his bum, furious.

Despite his hidden facial features, she knows the glare, that can make even the strongest of men tremble, is directed at her.

Luckily, Lilith isn't a man.

A piercing screech permeates the abandoned suburban neighborhood, garnering Lilith and Dagger's attention.

They share a look, promising to resume this later.

The obnoxious noise of the undead horde echoes as they slump down the street.

Dagger peers from the window as Lilith digs through the box of pristine baby clothing and memorabilia.

She flips the bird at his growl of impatience, pocketing the item she was looking for.

"Please, take your time." He remarks, pulling a second gun from a hidden holster.

"Piss off, Dag." Lilith weakly fires back, heart weighing heavily at the treasure she found.

He takes note of the hollow tone, lips twisting in anger. He leads the way out, mentally cataloging the various routes out of the neighborhood.

His back twitches, shoulders bunching in anticipation.

Dagger pulls up short at the end of the stairs, swearing vehemently at the size of the undead pouring into the various houses.

They're too late. They'll never be able to outrun or fight their way through this.

"Well. This is just peachy."

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