saving people.
It isn't enough to stand up and fight darkness. You've got to stand apart from it, too. You've got to be different from it

AFTER walking around for days with no breaks, her face dripped with blood and sweat. Her stomach was growling loudly, and it felt like her belly button was touching her backbone because of how hungry she was. She had the urge to pull up her pants because of the terrible diet she has been on; she hasn't eaten in days.

She let out an annoyed breath and stopped for a split second. She dropped her duffel bag onto the ground and yanked at one of the many flannel's she was wearing. She ripped off a long piece of it and then pushed the fabric through the belt loops on her pants, and then tightly tied it into a double knot to make a makeshift belt.

"Good enough," she grumbled underneath her breath and picked up her bag again before continuing with her journey.

She sighed tiredly, her eyes drooping closed for a few seconds.

Her blue eyes then snapped open when ruckus was heard coming from ahead of her.

Distracted by the noise, she almost tripped over a log, but caught herself in the last second. Normally, she would've ignore whatever or whoever it was, but her gut was telling her otherwise.

"No!"

Octavia gazed in the direction of the noise with furrowed eyebrows. She listened for another few minutes until she heard the sound of a young boy yelling.

She yanked the bag off her shoulder, again, and hastily stuck it into the open log she had nearly tripped over, before running towards the noise.

Gunshots echoed.

Octavia picked up her pace, quickly snatching her sword out of it's sheath on her back.

As she got closer to the noise, she understood why people were yelling. A young boy was being cornered by four of the undead while a woman-presumably his mother-tried to get to him, but was failing miserably. She gripped her sword tightly, picking up up speed as she hurried towards the panicked boy.

Slowing down, Octavia swung her sword and chopped off the head of one of the undead. Multitasking, she stabbed another of the undead's head.

"Go!" She yelled at the boy, watching out of the corner of her eye as he quickly obeyed the command, and embraced his mother.

At that moment, four men burst into the camp with guns and started to shoot at the undead invading their camp. These men obviously had no idea what they were doing because they were mainly shooting the zombies in the chest, which would do nothing.

Octavia rolled her eyes and heaved an irritated sigh before springing to the rescue again.

She cut off the heads of the remaining undead in front of her before turning to the next group of the undead who were cornering a woman and a young girl.

Pursing her lips, Octavia sprinted towards them. Her sword sliced through two of the undead's head's simultaneously. She gave a roundhouse kick to one of them to pause it as she stabbed another straight in the eye. She put her foot on it's stomach, and pulled out her sword before twisting around, and chopping off the head of the remaining undead.

She heaved out a breath and flicked her dark hair back as she gazed around their camp. Most of the members didn't know how to kill the undead so there was still a number of them left behind to kill.

Turning around, she came face-to-face with a zombie.

Quickly knocking it to the ground, Octavia dropped her sword into it's clear grey eye. She snarled at it in disgust.

It's skin was like old crinkled paper with lips the colour of rusted iron. The jaw was open wide, displaying a set of rotting yellow teeth. Veins threatened to burst from it's bald head as Octavia stared at it. Blood was splattered all over it's rotten skin like paint, and his bones hung from his flesh. It had been dead for quite some time.

Octavia wanted to clean the world of these disgusting creatures. They used to be human, but now they were unrecognisable. Those rotten creatures are the reason that the last remaining humans were dying rapidly. Those things--skin peeling, teeth sinking, hungry-for-flesh bastards--were the reason her only family might actually be dead.

Raising her head, her gaze locked onto the young boy from earlier. Unknown to him, an undead was limping up behind him, hoping to get a taste of his flesh. She raced toward the boy, but not before yanking her sword out of the undead's eye.

Reaching the small boy, Octavia knocked the undead down with a single shove, and lifted her foot before stomping down on it's skull with most of her energy, crushing it instantly.

The sickening crunch of it's skull being crushed caused memories of past hunts with her brothers to rush to the front of her mind. If they were here, they would have had a field day with the number of zombies gathered in this camp.

Imagining the scene in her mind, Octavia could see her older brother, Dean, jumping out of the Impala with a resting bitch face, guns already blazing before he had even left the car. Her second eldest brother, Sam, would be right behind him, his expression being his signature puppy dog glare.

The scene made Octavia let out a dry, humourless laugh before she came back to reality, focusing on the fear radiating from the camp. She realized laughing in this situation made her look insane, so the only logical response was to stop.

Lifting her foot from the crushed undead's skull, the boy she had just saved was grabbed by the women he was with earlier - his mother. As the boy sobbed into her chest, she kept her eyes on Octavia in shock and - dare I say - slight amazement. She clearly couldn't believe that some stranger - who looked like death - could come into their camp and save them.

Tearing her gaze from the dark-haired woman, Octavia noticed the sound of screaming and gunshots had stopped. Aside for the relentless sobs and heavy breathing, it was silent. Many people had lost their lives or had lost people they loved. They would never be seen again because of the cruel world God had put them in. He made the apocalypse possible. The world was now full of the walking dead and the rest of the surviving human race was rapidly dying out.

All of them might die one day, but it still wouldn't end there.

Octavia gazed around at her surroundings to realize she was being stared at. It was expected because, for all they knew, she was another threat to them. she certainly looked like one.

To them, Octavia could be a serial killer looking for her next victim. She wasn't, of course, but they didn't know that.

The thought made Octavia think about her life before the apocalypse. Was she a serial killer? Of course, she had killed before, but she had to. Yet, there were times when it wasn't necessary. There were times where what she did couldn't be passed off as an accident.

Octavia's breathing was heavy, and the adrenaline that was surging through her veins moments ago had completely disappeared. Her dark hair, which reached to the middle of her waist, was frizzy and knotted, and had blood and guts splattered all through it.

Octavia could feel the undead blood drying on her face as if she had just gotten her face painted at the fair.

She inwardly smiled, remembering back to the time Dean had snuck her and Sam out to the local fair. They got there only to get caught stealing, being taken to the sheriff's office and getting yelled at by they dad. It was still one of the best days of Octavia's life.

She was startled out of the memory when a man in a sheriff's hat spoke - which she found ironic.

"Who are you?"

He was wearing a dirty police uniform that had multiple sweat stains. The man was in an embrace with the mother of the young boy she had saved earlier. He had his left arm around her waist in a protective manner, whereas his right arm was holding a gun to Octavia's head.

When Octavia didn't answer his question, a man to the other side of the lady cocked his gun. The man had curly black hair and was also dressed in the same attire as the sheriff. He was also standing next to the woman in a protective manner as if she couldn't protect herself.

Still refusing to reply, Octavia let her eyes flicker around the camp and people. As she turned her head to the left, she was met with a crossbow shoved in her face. Ashe was unable to see the face of the owner, only being able to see sandy-blonde hair.

"Who are you?" The sheriff asked again, tone demanding.

"Octavia," She said gruffly, sliding het sword back into it's sheath. "Octavia Winchester." There was no need to lie about her name.

The man barely moved his gun, only lowering it a smidge. "Well," the man drawled out slowly. "I'm Rick Grimes and this is my wife, Lori."

He tilted his head towards the dark-haired woman in his embrace. At Rick's words, the other police officer's expression contorted into faint anger and sadness, yet only for a second.

"And this is our son, Carl." He gestured to the boy who clung to his legs.

To Octavia, it was adorable. She had always wanted children, and so did her brothers. Being a Winchester was hard because they could never have what they wanted, and they were always in danger.

"You saved my wife and my boy," Rick said, making Octavia shrug. She wasn't the type of person to let an innocent child die. He tilted his head to the side. "Thank you."

"Why would you risk your life for people you don't know?" the other copper asked, glaring, his gun still pointed at her head.

Octavia stood my ground. She had been taught to hunt creatures and save innocent people all her life. "Because I'm not one to let the innocent die."

"Nobody risks their life for people they don't know," the curly-haired man stated, taking a step forward with his gun aimed at her head.

Octavia turned to stare him directly in his eyes. She didn't flinch. She could tell that if he had to pull the trigger and shoot her, he would not think twice about it. Rick, on the other hand, looked like he might jump in and stop the situation.

"Shane," Rick warned, making his way to officer and placed his hand on the gun to lower it.

Octavia had to fight off a chuckle as she found out the curly one's name. Shane was certainly a name for a douchebag. She gazed over at Shane and narrowed her eyes, practically daring him to do something.

"She saved my boy's life. She saved Lori's life." There was a slight pause and Octavia noticed a glint in Shane's eyes. He's in love with her, yet Rick doesn't seem to notice. "She could've killed us instead of helping us, but she didn't."

Rick tried soothing Shane, but he just huffed and walked towards the back of the group, besides the RV.

Such a drama queen.

Octavia rolled her eyes and shifted her weight onto her right foot."Well, I should go," She stated, pointing to the woods. "I left my bag in the middle of the woods, anyone could walk by and grab it."

Before she could get far, the old woman who she had saved earlier with the young girl, blocked her path.

Before Octavia could even utter a word, the older woman wrapped her arms around her, crying and sobbing.

Octavia tensed and swallowed harshly. She hated when people other than her family touched me. She was used to hugs from the people she had saved before, but it didn't mean she hated it any less.

She waited impatiently until the woman let her go. She made eye connect with Octavia and smiled. Tears skidded down her face as she spoke, "Th-thank you. You saved our lives; you saved my baby girl. I owe you one."

"You're welcome," Octavia told her, beginning to walk into the woods again to where she stashed her bag.

"Octavia," Rick called out to her and she slowly turned to him, raising an eyebrow, waiting for what he had to say. "I know you don't know us, and we don't know you, but, I was wondering if you would stay. You saved more lives tonight than any of us could've." He breathed in and then out, slowly. "I would very much appreciate it if you would stick around. We might need you."

Octavia chewed on her lip as she looked around at everyone. She analyzed each and every one of them, pinpointing their strengths and weaknesses. They did need her help, but she needed to find her brothers.

"You're alone out there, it's not good to be alone in this world," Rick spoke up, his hands on his hips.

His words made her want to laugh hysterically, but she restrained herself; he would have thought she was insane.

She knew that it's not good to be in this world alone; she's been in this kind of world since she was six-months-old. It may have not been the walking dead, but she had dealt with monsters - whether that be people or the supernatural.

"So, you want me to stay? Wait, let me rephrase that - you all want me to stay?"She asked in disbelief, raising her right eyebrow.

They wanted the one who could possibly be a serial killer to stay?

"I can get them to cooperate with your presence." He smiled and she lightly chuckled. "As I said, none of us knows you and you don't know us. There is a lot of trust that needs to go around, but we need you. You saved my boy and my wife. You saved Sophia and her mother. So think about it. No pressure," he informed her, starting to walk off.

"Whenever someone says no pressure, it usually means there is pressure," She called out to him, turning to face him as she continued to walk backwards. He allowed a chuckle to pass through his lips. "But yeah, it might do me good to be with people. I've been on my own since it started." She then realized that she still needed to grab her bag from the woods. "I just need to grab my bag real quick and I'll be right back."

Rick nodded and she swiveled back around, going into the woods to find her bag and bring it back to her new group.

When she made it to her bag, she pulled it out of the log and hooked it over her shoulder. It was heavy, but she had already gotten used to the weight of it.

Inside it, she had multiple daggers, guns, a machete, her demon knife, angel blade, holy water, a copied version of her father's journal, some ammo, an iron poker, and dead man's blood.

It was a bit much, but she had to be prepared in case any supernatural creatures decided to visit. Being a hunter taught her to never keep her guard down, to always sleep with one eye open.

Aside from weapons, she had two extra pairs of clothes, a few pairs of clean underwear, and a hairbrush she had taken from an abandoned house.

When she made it back to the camp, she put her bag in the RV, And, of course, she hid it in a cabinet so that nosy people wouldn't go searching through it. She didn't trust anybody here. And they don't trust her.

Rick had explained to her that they were going to leave for the CDC after they finished burying their loved ones and burning the others.

Yes, they call them walkers - she had learned.

Octavia knew that going to CDC was a lost cause, yet she didn't inform Rick because this group needed hope. If giving them hope meant not telling them about CDC, then so be it, even if there was no point.