This Ain't No Place for No Hero
POV: First person narrator who is not a main character - pulped_fictions community prompt
Author/Artist: 1_rhiannon_1
Title: Ain't No Place for No Hero
Challenge: Short Challenge
Rating & Warnings: some mild language, death of an animal,
Summary: A bystander watches Rick Grimes's epic entrance into Atlanta
Author’s/Artist’s Note: This is fanfic for The Walking Dead - that's more my niche than original fiction. This popped in my head when I was on the treadmill earlier and I had to get it out. The title is inspired by the song that played when the idea hit me, "Short Change Hero" by The Heavy. Guillermo isn't a main character so this should fulfill the prompt. I went over a bit on the word count - 634 words. Hope you like it!
Prompt used: (POV) first person, secondary character
Clip, clop. Clip, clop. Clip, clop.
I quickly ducked behind the dumpster in the alley as soon as I heard the hoof beats coming my way. The city was once a bustling, loud metropolis and I never would've noticed the sound a couple of months ago. These days, the city belonged to the undead and they damn sure don't ride horses.
My curiosity got the best of me and I crept toward the mouth of the alley. I had to see who was stupid enough to come riding into the city like some gunslinger out of a bad Western on the late show. I caught a good look at him as he came around the corner, talking softly to his horse. Damned if he wasn't wearing a police officer's uniform. Of course, that could mean anything. It's not exactly difficult to find those these days. The cops went down just as easy as everyone else when the dead started walking around, eating people. I couldn't help but notice he was carrying a big bag of guns on his back, too. I could almost feel the wheels in my mind spinning as I looked at that bag. Those guns would really come in handy for me and my boys. We needed all the defense we could get.
I shook my head and watched the cop or whoever he was make his way down the street. He passed the burned-out shell of a bus and managed to rouse two of the walkers that were inside, waiting for something that smelled like lunch to come by. I heard him mutter, "It's ok, boy. Just two of 'em, nothin' we can't handle."
Dinner on the hoof. Come and get it boys.
I snorted softly and shook my head. Gallows humor. I had to get a grip on myself.
The cop and I both heard the sound at the same time, the solid whump whump whump of helicopter rotors slicing the air overhead. Both of us craned our necks to look up past the rooftops, trying to spot it, hoping for salvation. I watched in disbelief as he apparently spotted the chopper and took off like a bat out of hell, shooting his gun in the air, trying to draw their attention. That crazy bastard was going to get himself killed if he wasn't careful. I could hear the walkers a couple of streets over. They were getting riled up by the noise of the gunshots and the hoof beats.
Unable to look away, I watched as he tore down the street and rounded a corner. I saw the horse skid to a stop and rear up, almost dumping the cop from his back. They wheeled around, headed back my way but they didn't have a chance. A horde of the walkers met him at the next corner and they just closed ranks around him.
I watched, sickened, as they took the horse down and fell on it, beginning to feed. The cop managed to scramble to his knees and slide under a tank. I made note of the location; as he fell off the horse, he dropped the bag of guns he'd been carrying on his back. Shouldn't be too hard to find later. There weren't that many tanks in the city.
I watched for a few minutes more. The walkers swarmed all over and around the tank. People say that the walkers lose have no intelligence but I can't buy that. They knew he was in there, and they knew he was dinner, if they could get their hands on him. I shook my head and slipped away while the walkers were busy. I hated to leave him there, trapped and surrounded by walkers but you know what they say. This ain't no place for no hero.
Author/Artist: 1_rhiannon_1
Title: Ain't No Place for No Hero
Challenge: Short Challenge
Rating & Warnings: some mild language, death of an animal,
Summary: A bystander watches Rick Grimes's epic entrance into Atlanta
Author’s/Artist’s Note: This is fanfic for The Walking Dead - that's more my niche than original fiction. This popped in my head when I was on the treadmill earlier and I had to get it out. The title is inspired by the song that played when the idea hit me, "Short Change Hero" by The Heavy. Guillermo isn't a main character so this should fulfill the prompt. I went over a bit on the word count - 634 words. Hope you like it!
Prompt used: (POV) first person, secondary character
Clip, clop. Clip, clop. Clip, clop.
I quickly ducked behind the dumpster in the alley as soon as I heard the hoof beats coming my way. The city was once a bustling, loud metropolis and I never would've noticed the sound a couple of months ago. These days, the city belonged to the undead and they damn sure don't ride horses.
My curiosity got the best of me and I crept toward the mouth of the alley. I had to see who was stupid enough to come riding into the city like some gunslinger out of a bad Western on the late show. I caught a good look at him as he came around the corner, talking softly to his horse. Damned if he wasn't wearing a police officer's uniform. Of course, that could mean anything. It's not exactly difficult to find those these days. The cops went down just as easy as everyone else when the dead started walking around, eating people. I couldn't help but notice he was carrying a big bag of guns on his back, too. I could almost feel the wheels in my mind spinning as I looked at that bag. Those guns would really come in handy for me and my boys. We needed all the defense we could get.
I shook my head and watched the cop or whoever he was make his way down the street. He passed the burned-out shell of a bus and managed to rouse two of the walkers that were inside, waiting for something that smelled like lunch to come by. I heard him mutter, "It's ok, boy. Just two of 'em, nothin' we can't handle."
Dinner on the hoof. Come and get it boys.
I snorted softly and shook my head. Gallows humor. I had to get a grip on myself.
The cop and I both heard the sound at the same time, the solid whump whump whump of helicopter rotors slicing the air overhead. Both of us craned our necks to look up past the rooftops, trying to spot it, hoping for salvation. I watched in disbelief as he apparently spotted the chopper and took off like a bat out of hell, shooting his gun in the air, trying to draw their attention. That crazy bastard was going to get himself killed if he wasn't careful. I could hear the walkers a couple of streets over. They were getting riled up by the noise of the gunshots and the hoof beats.
Unable to look away, I watched as he tore down the street and rounded a corner. I saw the horse skid to a stop and rear up, almost dumping the cop from his back. They wheeled around, headed back my way but they didn't have a chance. A horde of the walkers met him at the next corner and they just closed ranks around him.
I watched, sickened, as they took the horse down and fell on it, beginning to feed. The cop managed to scramble to his knees and slide under a tank. I made note of the location; as he fell off the horse, he dropped the bag of guns he'd been carrying on his back. Shouldn't be too hard to find later. There weren't that many tanks in the city.
I watched for a few minutes more. The walkers swarmed all over and around the tank. People say that the walkers lose have no intelligence but I can't buy that. They knew he was in there, and they knew he was dinner, if they could get their hands on him. I shook my head and slipped away while the walkers were busy. I hated to leave him there, trapped and surrounded by walkers but you know what they say. This ain't no place for no hero.