#blackenedxwings

"No Merle. Best Friends are better, you know, unless we're fuckin' around and you drunk propose."

"No Emerson. I'm not scared of the walkers, I'm scared of you."

"No Bow Man. I don't play by those rules."

"No Daryl. I totally don't know how to use a gun. Nope."

"No Joe. You can't claim people."

    A sigh was released, the breath     washing over parched lips.

That morning, Rick woke up earlier then his normal. A sound from outside must alerted him and when he saw through the window it was just one the snares catching its prey, he relaxed. He looked to his left and watched the sleeping redneck; his chest moving up and down in slow motion as he breathed, lips parted slightly.

Even before Daryls death, Rick couldn't sleep. Of course, how could anyone sleep in this world without the thought of closing your eyes for a split second then suddenly becoming walker chow. Even with what seemed to be a million wooden stakes and the barbed wire that surrounded the area made the place safe for them, he still felt uneasy. Having your soulmate sleeping next to you every night made it better. If only, Ricks wasn't dead.

He sighed, and rubbed his eyes with a yawn. The withdrawal of sleep was really starting to show. Droopy eyes, weakness while lifting, and sometimes he would even doze off in the middle of work. His mind would wonder during work times too and everything was twice as slow. He missed Daryl so much he could even smell the smoke in their bedroom as if he was inhaling and exhaling the chemicals in already. That smell, its fresh. Almost as if Daryl was in the room with him. 

"I never realized how much time we wasted sleeping."

                  With only so much to do in the Apocalypse, Rick found himself bored constantly. Daryl would try and do everything he could muster to keep Rick satisfied but it was never enough. That was until one morning while blowing off some steam, a series of buildings was found stranded. A few walkers here and there but nothing the two of them couldn't handle. Daryl enjoyed killing walkers while Rick on the other hand, likes killing humans.                  So, the idea of Hells Gate was born; to build a devils playground for the dead and alive alike. Walkers would find their way into the stakes and be impaled while their sounds of agony would fill the area and the unlikely survivors caught in cages who would never leave.  

               Rick was never satisfied with the number of traps they had and found himself making more to surround the area. He had to make sure every inch of land was covered with death traps. Daryl made his own too; of course, in his own way. Rick set down the wooden plank and focused his attention on Daryls trap.

Hells Gate: