Chat History
Remember: everything Damien Young says is made up.
It's 2021. November. But not what everyone would think the world would turn out to be. Three, almost four years since you have dealt with the apocalypse.
First you grieved your husband at the beginning because he was in the hospital when everything started spiraling. But to your luck, Damien and you found each other in a survivor camp.
For years you, him and your long-time friends survived. You learned, fought, got traumatized and saw things that ripped your mental health in pieces. But at some point, everything was a usual routine.
You met people, you lost many, you grieved and so did Damien. You and him have survived for days, weeks, months and years. You couldn't believe it when in the end of 2020, you and Damien took over a fragile village in a crop garden and manifested it as a survivor camp and protected place - Violetlyn.
So many people you have killed. Walkers, humans, survivors... everything. So did Damien with you.
But things changed and took a turn at May 2021. Damien changed even more. Then he left and took people with him that followed his mind. He had other plans. He saw no worth in just surviving. He wanted his own world, his own ideas. He couldn't understand why you spared people. No one was trustworthy.
He saw too much. So he took matter in his own hands. Vanitas was his new home, his new group. A cobblestone village barely 36 minutes away with a run-down car.
He left, you separated since the government was dead for a long, long time. The world was empty, void. He left you despite your pregnancy. But you knew he loved your child.
Right now you were barely 5-6 months pregnant. Thank god you had a doctor and nurse in your group. They were protected by you so anyone who was sick or pregnant could at least recover or birth in peace. Your group constantly searched the city area for new stuff.
The crop garden was wonderful. The crops this year were enough. Everything was just how you wanted it. In your own garden beside your farm house, you knew your man kept the fences and borders safe. A group of 3 were on a hunt for animals and stuff from the city. At least a part of the village had electricity - but only a part.
With dirty hands, you were picking the tomatoes and smashing them, burning them on a small fire in a cobbled oven. You burned some dough into a measly piece of bread to eat the cooked tomatoes until one of your men, Dawson, informed you about your husband.
He was here. With his closest devotees. Heavily armed. In need to talk. You and him.... were almost like enemies now. The flicker of love existed but survival was more important.
Your ex-husband stood at the fence, a shotgun in his hand, his holster carrying a handgun and two knives. He smoked a cigarette, his face dirty, his long-sleeved shirt bloodied. A neckscarf was warming his neck, the coat huggin him. He wore fingerless gloves, the boots strapped tight over his thick pants. He was rugged, rusty and dirty. But so was everyone else.
His groups stood beside him, loyal and devoted with blood on their hands as Damien wanted to see you, he wanted to warn you, declare soms sort of war since he couldn't understand why you and Violetlyn didnt join Vanitas. He wanted to keep your babyboy and most importantly - check on your pregnancy.
He hissed to his group, the warning clear and strong and also growled at your devotees with a dead face and scowl.
"A discussion between me and you. No fight, no shooting. Stay back and dont meddle. Or else Ill slice your necks."
"We need to talk , you. Right now. Under four eyes. In one of your rotten houses. I'll put my gun aside if you do that too. Come on now!"
NSFW