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The Slayer of The Walking Dead

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Summary: Livvie is far from home, and can never go back. She thought she could be happy here. Build a life. Then The Walkers came. The only thing left to do is survive. And kill as many of those Walker bastards as possible. Daryl/ OFC *Computer dead. On hold.*

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > Walking Dead, ThemelluseneFR18418,1582182,69423 Oct 1115 Nov 11No

Chapter 4: It's a Massacreee!

Time line: Post Chosen for Buffy, and during Season 2 for The Walking Dead. There will be spoilers for Season 2 of The Walking Dead, including all episodes that air before the date that I post each chapter.

A/N: My character in this story is a Slayer from the Buffy verse, thrown into the Walking Dead verse. There will be no other Buffy characters, except in flashbacks. I’m taking some artistic license as far as the order of events in this episode. Not too much, but a little. Shane is still wearing last season’s pants because they were so bad they have to be ragged on by my uppity Slayer!

Rating: FR21- there will be violence, language, death, and mayhap a little romance later ;) This chapter has some pretty severe language, and violence.


 Chapter 4: It's a Massacreee!


Chapter 4: In Which Livvie Starts to Hate Shane Even More!

     Silence surrounded them, only broken up by the peaceful chirping of crickets, as they thought about Livvie, and what she could mean for them.

     “Huh,” grunted Dixon. “Bitch thinks a lot of herself don’t she?”

     “I’d be pissed too if someone messed up my hard days work. And did she say she had wired the church with C4? Does that mean what I think it means?” asked Andrea.

     “If that’s true we are extremely lucky that we didn’t accidentally set if off while we were in there,” said Dale.

     “C4 is explosives right? Where in the world did she get it in the first place? And what if Sophia ends up hiding in that church?” Carol asked anxiously.

     “C4 is pretty stable stuff. Tha’s why it’s used so much,” said Daryl. “I’ve seen it used on a couple a construction jobs that I worked. You have to stick a detonator in it, and set it on a timer, or a remote trigger. Since the church didn’t blow with us in it, I’m guessin’ she has a remote trigger.”

     “She said she had a generator and fuel right?” asked Dale. “We could sure use that fuel.”

     “I don’ know if we should trust her, man,” said Daryl. “She seems a mite unstable.”

     Everyone who wasn’t Daryl scoffed loudly, and tried to hide their laughter. “You are calling someone else unstable?” demanded Andrea with a chuckle. “I just think maybe she’s been too long without interacting with the living. It can be easy to forget your manners when surrounded by Walkers 24/7. She’s jumpy. Who can blame her? Death can pop up anywhere anytime, and the way she had planned on taking out her frustrations was foiled.”

     “Yer just saying that ‘cause she gave you a pretty gun. You have to like ‘er,” said Daryl.

     Andrea glared at Daryl, “Yeah, well, I might be more inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt here, but that doesn’t mean I like her. We all have to be careful. Like she said there is more to worry about than just Walkers, and we can’t just trust people. They have to earn it.”

     “I’m going to see if Livvie needs help finding a ‘ride,’” decided Dale.  “Maybe after she gets her things we can see if she’ll go after Shane and the bastard that shot Carl. That way she can kill some Walkers, and maybe it’ll calm her down.”




     None of them knew, of course, that Livvie had been close enough to hear the beginning of their conversation.

     Ever since the outbreak, she was used to thinking of herself as better, and smarter than everyone else. She rarely encountered living people, most of the time she was surrounded by Walkers, so of course she was better and smarter than them. They were dead, and had the brain capacity of a concussed pigeon.

     When she encountered people, she usually lent a hand if they were good people, or mostly ignored them if they weren’t. She only bothered to deal with bad people if they were preying on women and children, and that was very rare considering she didn’t often encounter people.

     When she did run into people, she would give them a couple of tips, maybe help them get some supplies, try to set them on the path of survival, and then leave them. She rarely spent more than 48 hours with them, and then left to continue her one woman crusade against the Walkers.

     Livvie didn’t get attached. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to stand making friends, and then watching them die. Not again. Everyone she had known in this world was dead. Her boss, her neighbors, hell even the checker at the market who always flirted with her. She couldn’t afford to form attachments. She would just have to leave anyway, so being polite and decent to people had just fallen out of practice for her. I was easier to bust in, make her points quickly and firmly, and exit stage left.

     Livvie had a feeling that she needed to stay with these people. She didn’t know what made these people different from the others she had met, but she trusted her instincts. Most Slayers had a specialty. Some had better senses than other Slayers; Hearing, sight, smell. Some had prophetic dreams. Some had extra strength or agility. Some had highly developed instincts. Every Slayer was unique.

What made her different from the others, was her ‘Slayer-sense.’ She could sense evil from miles away. She could even narrow down what sort of evil: Vampire, Demon, Warlock. Magnitude of evil; Upper or lower level demon, Master Vampire or Fledgling. Since landing in this dimension her sense had developed into being able to tell the character of a person. She could sort of ‘feel’ and ‘see’ a person’s aura, and tell what kind of a person they were. If they were innocent, or evil. Honest, or liars. Murderers, rapists, and abusers had a distinct feel about them. Like a dark spot on their aura for every sin committed. The intent behind the sin could also clearly be seen in the depth of the darkness marking their soul.

After the outbreak she could tell if a person was infected. She could tell if there were Walkers near, and usually estimate how many before she saw or heard them.

     So far Livvie had made these observations on the group she was currently with:

     -Rick- Good guy. He had a clear soul, and loved his family dearly. The responsibility of leadership was weighing on him heavily. He had a clear definition of what was right and wrong, and was always trying to do the right thing.

     -Carl- Cute innocent kid. The apocalypse had taken it’s toll, as it had on everyone, but he could still appreciate beauty. He worshiped his dad, and thought he could do no wrong.

     -Shane- He certainly wasn’t as dark as some she had seen, but he was no innocent. He cared for his friend, Rick, and hated him at the same time. He was selfish. He had hurt someone recently. Not as bad as he could have, but he was still ashamed. He was detached, and trying to separate himself from the group.

     -Lori-She was a good person, but also selfish. Livvie had only been in her presence for a moment, so she didn’t have too much to go on. Lori had been in severe pain when she had heard her son was hurt. She also had a layer of guilt surrounding her. About what Livvie didn’t know yet.

     -Andrea- She was in pain. She had lost someone recently, and wasn’t sure it was worth it to move on, and keep fighting. She was pissed at Dale for being so controlling, when she didn’t think he had a right to be where she was concerned. Her soul was white, and pure, but recent pain and hardship had bruised it. She didn’t have an evil bone in her body.

     -Carol- She was devastated over the loss of her child, and would do anything to get her back. She felt guilty, like it was her fault that her daughter was missing. Her identity was so mixed up with her daughter’s, that if the worst were to happen, Livvie thought Carol would surely kill herself. She was also fundamentally weak. If she was to survive she would have to make herself strong.

     -Glenn- Genuinely good guy. He tried his best to be good, and helpful. He had an abundance of compassion.

     -Dale- Had the scars of loss on his soul. He was a essentially good person, but seemed a bit manipulative.

     -T-Dog- Livvie had only vaguely met him, and didn’t talk to him at all, as he was so sick. He seemed like a good honorable man. He had issues, as did everyone in a post-apocalyptic world, but he seemed trustworthy.

     And last but not least:

     -Daryl-His soul was more light than dark. He was wounded deeply early on and it affected the rest of his life. He didn’t like to hurt people, but would do anything for his family. He was a racist, but Livvie got a feeling that he just didn’t know any better. He had a chance now to interact with different people, and make judgments for himself. He was a hunter, and more in tune with the earth than anyone else she had met in this dimension. He was a decent guy. Not true blue like Rick. He was surely rough around the edges, and his temper had a very short fuse. But he did his part to help his tribe, and seemed to be the only one who still thought that they’d find Sophia safe. Livvie was also sure that he would never hurt a woman or a child.

     Out of everyone she would rather have Daryl at her back. He seemed the most capable. On the trustworthy scale of men Rick would come next, then Glenn, then T-Dog, then Dale, and then eventually Shane. She had the feeling he was the type of man to leave you to die if it meant he got one more second to live. That might be a good strategy in the short run, but to survive he would need a group of people with him that he could trust. If he killed them, or disillusioned them all, he would be alone. As for the women Andrea seemed the most capable here. She may have been having a hard time, but she was fighting still. Carol had crumpled into a useless pile of tears, begging, and prayer to a god that couldn’t hear her anymore. Livvie wished she would stop whining, and DO something about it.

 Livvie was no wilting flower. She didn’t submit to anyone, but she was going to have to learn to cooperate again, instead of assuming that she knew best. If she was going to start forming attachments, she needed to be more open herself. She could never tell them everything about her, but she could let herself interact with them and let them see for themselves who she was.

     Livvie would have to prove how useful she could be. That meant she would need to go get her things, and bring the generator and gasoline back here. She had a nagging feeling that she should go after Shane, and Otis. Having an extra pair of hands there to watch their backs couldn’t hurt. She had no idea what supplies they would need, or what they looked like, but if she was there, she could be another obstacle between the Walkers and them. Plus she didn’t trust Shane. Not one bit.




     Livvie found a smoky grey colored Ford Escape Hybrid, off to the side of the highway. It was dark enough to blend in to it’s surroundings, but still light enough not to absorb too much of the sweltering Georgia heat. It looked like the driver had swerved to avoid something, and stopped their car off the side of the road. It looked intact. It had all four tires, they all looked fully inflated. She walked around the hood to get to the drivers side.

     As she cleared the vehicle she saw a corpse on the ground near the drivers door. It looked like it was once a man. It was laying face down, and had a small revolver in it’s right hand. It was obvious from the position of the remains that the man had shot himself in the head. Something glinted in the setting sun near his left hand, and Livvie walked closer to investigate.

     It was the man’s car keys. Livvie would have thanked the Fates, if they could have still heard her. She picked up the keys, and removed all of them that didn’t belong to the car. She set the superfluous keys back down by the man’s hand.

     “Thank you,” she said to the dead man. “Your car is going to help me survive longer in this messed up world, and I promise I’ll take good care of it.”

     Livvie hit the keyless entry, and the car gave a little chirp as it unlocked. “Okay,” she said to herself. “I’ll be using that sparingly.”

She walked around to the back of the car and lifted the tailgate to see inside. The car’s interior lacked the smell of rot and decay that permeated every molecule of air around the highway, and Livvie sighed in relief. A dead body hadn’t been left to decay in the car, and there was no blood splatter to indicate a Walker had eaten someone within the car.

     The back was stuffed with the man’s belongings haphazardly, like all the other cars, and Livvie started taking stuff out to sort through.

     She turned her head to the highway as she heard movement. Dale came walking into her sightline, and smiled at her.

     “That’s a real beauty,” he said. “Looks intact, and I don’t see any bodies inside. Plus with four wheel drive you should be able to drive right out of that ditch. Great find!” he exclaimed.

     “Thanks,” said Livvie softly.

     “Would you like me to check under the hood while you clean out the back?” Dale asked.

     “Sure,” she replied gratefully. “The doors are unlocked, you should be able to just reach in the drivers door and pop the hood. But look out for the owner, he’s right beside the door.”

     Dale rounded the front of the car, and took off his hat at the sight of the man on the ground. “Well,” he said sadly. “At least he didn’t suffer.” He reached down and gently pried the gun from the man’s hand. “He doesn’t need this anymore, either.”

     Dale popped the hood, and called back to Livvie as he went back to the front of the car. “Gas gage says it’s a little over half full. I guess we hadn’t gotten over here yet to siphon fuel.”

     “Good,” said Livvie. “Then I won’t have to borrow any from you guys.”

     As Livvie sorted through the man’s things she separated everything into piles. Clothes, food, misc useful items, and trash. She put what she wanted to keep back into the car. It wasn’t much. She took his large suitcase, some razors, a pillow and some bedding, and some food and water. The back seats had been folded away so that there was more room in the back, and there was now plenty of space to fill with her own things.

     Dale came around to the back of the car after he shut the hood. “It looks good to go,” he told Livvie.

     “Thanks again, Dale,” she told him. “You guys should look through the rest of this stuff, and see what you can use. These clothes look like they’ll fit Rick, and there’s some ammo for that .38 here too.”

     “Sure thing,” said Dale.

     “Well,” said Livvie, as she put her bag and coat in the passengers seat, and settled into the drivers seat. “I’m off! I’ll go get my things from my defunct car, and grab the genny and fuel on the way back.” As she talked she adjusted the seat, steering wheel, and mirrors. She started the car, and it clicked over with a soft purr. “Ah, yes! Thank you, baby!” Livvie said caressing the steering wheel. She rolled down the drivers’ side window and closed the door so she could still talk to Dale as she adjusted the drivers’ side mirror. Plus the pinging of the door alarm was getting on her nerves. Dale looked like he still had something to say.

     “Are you sure you want to go alone?” asked Dale. “We could send someone with you, and you could check up on Shane on the way back.”

     Livvie shook her head. “It’ll be faster if I go alone,” she said. “Besides, you need all your people here to help find the little girl. I’ll swing by the High School on my way back here, but if I don’t get back before you guys leave, I’ll meet you at the farm.”

     “Alright then,” said Dale worriedly. “You be careful! And good luck!”

     Livvie nodded to Dale politely, and then rolled up her window, and drove off. It was tricky getting out of the ditch, and around the dead man, but she hit the incline at an angle and was on the road easily enough. Then she had to dodge the dozens of cars in her way, until they thinned out enough for her to speed up. She turned on the AC on low, she didn’t want to use too much gas, but she needed some cooler air. Her outfit was hot as hell. She needed it to act as armor to Walkers, but it still sucked major ass. At least she looked good wearing it.

     It took her about an hour and a half to reach her broken down compact car. She drove around it, and backed up so that the rear hatch of the Escape faced the hatch back of the tiny car. She then immediately jumped out, and put her coat back on, so she could move her things over to her new car. There were a couple Walkers ambling in the vicinity. Not too many, as she had already killed several dozen in this area after her car had broken down. What could she say? She had some anger issues. She dropped them quickly with her Sig, and moved most of her meager belongings over to her new ride. She left some things that were too worn out, or that she didn’t need any more.

     Lastly she hopped into the drivers side of her old car to grab the stuff from the front. She emptied out the glove box, and the passengers seat and foot well, and then grabbed her rear view mirror ornament. A car wasn’t hers until it sported her little stuffed frog hanging from the rear view mirror. She had won it at a carnival, when she and Faith were there tracking a Demon. Some Carnie's were actually weird for a reason. It was silly, she guessed, but it made her feel more at home in this world gone mad. Something familiar to hold onto. After she had everything she needed, she siphoned the remaining fuel from the tank, and then threw a match through the open drivers side window onto the worn out upholstery. The car went up quickly, and she drove away without a single glance back.

     Maybe she was just being paranoid, but back home you didn’t leave your blood around for someone to find and use against you. She doubted there were any witches here, but that car had a significant amount of her blood on the interior, and she wasn’t taking any chances.

     It took her 45 minutes to find the tiny dirt road that led to the church. She found a truck halfway down, with it’s door open and blood everywhere. She pulled over. She wasn’t interested in the truck, but she was interested in the small open trailer attached at the back. She hopped out again, and surveyed the area, before she started taking stuff off of the trailer. There was a good deal of furniture, and other useless things. After she moved a weight set off to the side she rethought it, and took the long bar to use as a weapon, and some of the smaller barbell weights to augment some other weapons with.

     She kept a couple small wooden TV trays, and a couple dining room chairs, and repacked them and strapped them down. She also found an outdoor ‘Zero Grav’ lounge chair still in it’s box, that she decided to keep. Either this person knew how to loot, or the boxed goods had already been on the trailer when the person decided to evacuate.

     When Livvie was done sorting, she detached the trailer from the truck, and pulled it around to the back of her new car. Since no-one was around to see her, and it really wasn’t that heavy, at least to her, she decided to avoid the awkward guess work of moving the truck, and then trying to back up to the trailer hitch. She attached it to her car easily enough, she had seen it done a time or two in her home dimension, and continued on towards the church.

     Livvie had been worried about how she was going to get the generator, and the fuel barrel back out to the farm. She didn’t want the generator to tear up the back of her new car, and the fumes from both it and the fuel barrel would have made it impossible to breathe in the car. She had found the generator, and the fuel barrel several days after her ickle car died, and she had moved them out to the church, one at a time, in a wheel barrow. Not fun. Not at all. It was awkward and annoying, and a long list of other things she didn’t want to think about.

     So, now, with her new/old trailer, she could just toss them in and be off. She reached the church a half hour later, and carefully got out to collect the things she had left here. She hauled the generator, and the fuel barrel, again one at a time, in the wheel barrow over to the trailer and secured them. Then she added the wheel barrow with a shrug. It was useful, even if it was also annoying.

     Next Livvie grabbed the suitcases outfitted to store the C4, and the detonators, and carefully re-packed them with the munitions in she had left in the church. C4 went into one suitcase, with special padding to keep it from moving around, or being damaged, and the detonators went into another until all the spaces were snugly filled again. She latched the cases, and locked them with two of the three keys she had hanging on her cross necklace around her neck. The necklace had been a gift from her first Watcher when she was only a child, and ever since she had grown old enough to wear it she never took it off. She tucked the cases down into the passengers’ foot well so they wouldn’t bounce around too much. She had strapped down her gun safe in the back, but she wasn’t taking chances with the C4.

     Speaking of her gun safe, Livvie got out and moved to the back door on drivers side. She had strapped in the safe so that the door faced the back drivers’ side door, and she could get into it fairly easily. She entered the combination, and used the third key on her necklace to unlock it. She took off some of her knives, and added another gun holster to her left hip. She slipped her second Sig Saur P226, with attached silencer, into the holster. She called this one Jerry. The gun on her right hip, Ben, she always kept on her. But when she knew she was in for a big fight, she brought Jerry along too. She dug out her four extra clips, with twenty rounds of 9mm hollow point ammo each, and slipped them into their places on her holsters, and her belt.

     She had three boxes of her 9mm ammo left, each with 100 rounds, and it would go quickly if she wasn’t careful. She opened a box and popped Ben’s clip to top it off before putting it back together, and checking the chamber. She knew there was a round in there, but she checked anyway. She holstered Ben, and took Jerry out to chamber a round and take his safety off too. She shut and re-locked her safe.

     Livvie moved to the back of the car, opened the hatch to get to her clothes bag and her blade duffel, and took off her coat and sword to change her shirt. She put on a cotton shirt with long leather sleeves, and tucked it into her pants. Then she added a thick, tight fitting leather vest, that zipped up almost all the way up her neck. She strapped her katana, or ‘Rukia,’ back on, and added a double edged Gladius, or ‘Spartacus,’ as well. She quickly re-braided her hair and coiled it back into a bun to make sure it was tight, and together so no Walkers could grab it. She pulled on her rose gloves, and pulled her shirt sleeves down over them to her wrists.

     She inventoried her knives, and added a long kukri ‘Amut,’ to the arsenal on her person. She had several of her ‘normal wear,’ blades strapped to her waist and thighs still, she didn’t name these or get attached so she could leave them behind if necessary, and she still had on her Sai’s ‘Elektra,’ and ‘Mr. Miagi’ respectively. She added a sheath and some throwing knives to her forearms, a book of matches to her pocket, some safety goggles over her eyes, and figured she was armed enough to face a horde now.

     Livvie got back into her car, and headed to the High School.




Livvie parked at a small strip mall near the school, and made sure the car was facing the exit. She had detached and left her trailer near the main street of a nearby town that was abandoned. There weren’t any Walkers near where she left it, and she would pick it up on the way back to the farm.

     She got out, locked the car, and hooked her keys to her belt with a carabineer she had attached earlier. Losing her keys would suck. She moved stealthily towards the High School then, and started looking for Shane and Otis. She heard gun fire, and sprinted to the back of the school, while picking off a couple of Walkers in her way with Ben and Jerry.

     Livvie rounded the back of the school, and saw them. They were only a few feet in front of a horde, and both of them looked worn out, and possibly injured. She kept running, and as she did she heard Shane say, “I’m sorry.”

     No! Livvie thought. Don’t do it, you douche! Livvie ran dodging cars, curbs, and Walkers as she tried to reach them in time. Then she heard the gunshot, and Otis cry out in pain as he fell to the ground. Livvie was screaming in her head as she continued forward, but it felt like she was hardly moving closer at all as she watched the scene unfold. Shane and Otis fought on the ground as the horde grew closer. Livvie started shooting at the Walkers to try and keep them away from Otis. She would have shot Shane, the prick, if he hadn’t needed to get those supplies back to the farm. Shane didn’t even seem to see her, as he struggled off away from the Walkers and Otis.

     Livvie kept shooting as Otis’ screams grew louder, and more heart wrenching. He was being eaten. She knew he was. She had heard the screams of pain of people being eaten entirely too often these past months. And for Otis to die! His soul had shown with more brilliance and radiance then anyone else she’d seen since the outbreak. He was so good of a person. So loving and compassionate. So honest and kind. He was worth a dozen of men like Shane!

     Livvie felt hot tears running down her cheeks as she raced the last few feet to Otis. As she got to him she holstered her guns, and drew her swords. She chopped and hacked at the undead, as she danced around to avoid their hands and teeth. She kicked at them to get them off of Otis. She swirled and hacked, and realized she was screaming at them too. Wordless, furious, shouts of pain, and rage.

     She chopped the head of a former police officer in half as she swung Rukia at the midline of his head. Her katana was so sharp that, for a millisecond, it looked like nothing had happened. Then the top half of his head slid off and he fell to the ground oozing brain matter and black slimy blood.

     She had Spartacus in her left hand, and thrust it through the head of a Walker that was attempting to sneak up behind her. She spun and hacked through two heads at once. One was a woman dressed in a designer suit and Louboutin spiked heels. Well, spike heel. One shoe was missing, and the woman had an uneven gait as she shuffled toward her. The other was a Paramedic, with his lower face chewed off. Their brains slid out as their bodies hit the ground with a thick SPLAT! She kicked at another in front of her as she spun again to continue her Walker massacre.

     She stayed near Otis as she mowed them down. He was still alive, and pushing the former-un-dead off of him. He knew he was dead anyway, but he wanted to try and help the girl while he still drew breath. He still had eyes that were working, and he was mesmerized as Livvie danced through the mass of decaying bodies, like she was Death coming back to claim what was hers. It was beautiful, and ugly all at once. Otis could see how much she wished she could save him as she hacked through head after head, body after body.

     Livvie crouched in a spin, and hacked the legs off of the bodies around her smoothly and viciously. She moved on quickly, there were so many that she had to incapacitate some of the Walkers temporarily, until she could get back to finish them off. She was moving so fast that she missed a great deal of the blood spray, and flying gore that she unleashed with her swords. She still was getting hit with it, but at least she wasn’t getting covered and soaked with the black blood, bone, and brain matter.

     Livvie tried not to look too closely at a short Walker as she killed it. It was a little boy. He couldn’t have been more than six or seven. He was wearing footy pajamas, for Goddess’ sake! Fuck the fucking government, and the mother fucking military! Granted there couldn’t have been disaster plans written for something like this, but there should have been someone out there who could have helped figure out a way to minimize losses!

     Livvie bet that there had been several dozen people, at least, who could have helped, but that the government ignored. Like in one of those disaster movies where the scientist is all ‘We have to evacuate the Western Hemisphere! The Solar Flare will burn them all to a crisp!’ and the President is all ‘No! Do you know how much money that would cost us?! Go away!’ and the next thing you know a couple billion people are dead.

     When Livvie had finally cleared enough space around her and Otis, she wiped off her swords on the leg of a convenient Walker, and sheathed them. She rushed over to Otis, and knelt at his side.

     “I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner!” she exclaimed through her tears and gasping breaths.

     Otis was laying on his back as he looked up at her. He was weak from extreme blood loss, and didn’t have long before he would bleed to death. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered brokenly. “You tried to help me, and I’m thankful for that.”

     Livvie suddenly turned away to throw a couple of her wrist knives, but she turned back to him quickly. “Don’t worry,” Livvie told him as strongly as she could. “I’ll not let you turn into one of them. After you’re unconscious, I’ll do it myself.” She rested her hand on the top of his head comfortingly. One of his ears was missing, but she ignored it, and looked him in the eyes. “Anything you want me to tell your girl?” she asked.

     “Don’t tell her what Shane did.” He said weakly. “It will break her heart. Tell her I died well, and bravely, and that I don’t regret it. As long as that boy gets the help he needs, I’m alright with the dyin’ part.” His breathing was labored, and they both knew he didn’t have long. “Tell her I love her, and I’ll always be with her. Tell the Greene’s that I love them too, and that I’m thankful for all the time I had with them, and for the kindness they’ve shown me all these years. Tell Rick that I said ‘You’re welcome,’ if the boy makes it, and ‘I’m sorry’ if he don’t. I did my best to help his boy.”

     “Yes,” Livvie told him. “You did. You did a fine job of it too, Otis. If he makes it, it’ll be because of you. Shane is too stupid to have gotten the supplies Hershel needed on his own.” She paused for a second. “What about Shane? Should I tell the others? Do you want me to kill him? I will, just say the word, and he’s gone.”

     “No,” Otis sighed. “Don’ tell no one, an’ don’ kill ‘im.” His enunciation was fading as he got weaker. “Tell Shane I forgive ‘im,” said Otis. “An’ make sure he don’ hurt no one else.” Otis gasped for breath. “Take me home?” he asked so softly that if Livvie wasn’t a Slayer, she wouldn’t have heard him. “I don’ wan’ ta git eaten up.” His mind was starting to fail too, but Livvie understood.

     “I’ll take you back home, Otis. Don’t worry about that, they won’t be able to touch you with me around,” said Livvie.

     “Than’ yoo,” Otis replied. “I thin’ I’ll go ta slee’ now Liv,” he said and closed his eyes.

     “That’s right honey,” Livvie said softly. “Go to sleep now, I’ll watch over you.”

     Otis’ mouth barely curved up at the corners, and he exhaled slowly. He didn’t breath in again. Livvie bowed her head for a moment in grief.

     After the short moment she gathered herself to do what needed to be done. She took out a knife, and gently lifted Otis’ head to rest it in her lap. She lifted his head just enough to get her knife aimed where she wanted it, and then she struck. She stabbed him in the back of the head, at the base of his skull, with the end of the blade pointed towards his forehead. She quickly pulled it free, and laid him back down on the ground. She wiped her knife off on the shoulder of his jacket, and put it away.

     Livvie then pulled her guns, an popped the clips. They were both empty, except for one in the chamber, and she quickly exchanged the empty clips for full ones. She stood and turned in a circle, taking out the dozen or so Walkers that had wondered over during Otis’ last moments. She then put away her guns, and walked over to a nearby tarp. It was blue, and had been set up over a few tables. She guessed it had served some function for FEMA before the situation turned from FUBAR to OMFG!WAGTD! The later being the state of ‘OH MY FUCKING GODESS! WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!’ Believe it or not, Livvie had been in a couple of OMFG!WAGTD! worthy situations herself before the Walker outbreak. Such is the life of an active Slayer.

     Livvie cut the ropes holding the tarp to the tent frame, and took it over to Otis. She gathered half of it up in her hands, lengthwise, and set it next to Otis’ body. If she wasn’t a Slayer she never would have been able to move him. She scooted him over onto the tarp, and then rolled him onto his side so she could pull the rest of the tarp flat. She gently rolled him back onto his back, and wrapped him in the tarp. She used the ropes to secure it, and then stood to shoot a couple more Walkers, as she thought of what to do next.

     As she turned around she saw an ambulance several hundred yards away, across the back parking lot from her and Otis. She rushed over to it, and rounded the back. There was a Walker, still undead, strapped to the gurney. Livvie carefully undid the brakes of the gurney, and pulled it out. She unlocked the legs of the gurney, and they dropped into place as she slid it out. She then put her gun to the Walkers’ temple and fired. She unbuckled him, grabbed the sheet under him, and threw them both off of her gurney. She put the gurney back in the ambulance and closed the doors.

Next Livvie went to see about the cab of the ambulance. Lucky for her, unlucky for the driver, it seemed that a Walker had decided to pull the driver out of the cab to eat him. There was blood splatter on the seat and steering wheel. She hurried to the back of the ambulance, and grabbed a canister of disinfecting wipes from next to the doors. After she had wiped down the seat and the steering wheel, she got in to see about the keys. She shut the door, and leaned around the steering column. The keys were still in the ignition. She looked at the many and sundry switches to the right of the steering wheel, and switched the one labeled ‘siren’ to ‘off.’

Crossing her fingers Livvie turned the key. The engine came alive with a dull roar. Shit, she had to move fast. She jerked the gear shift into drive, and sped over to Otis. She slammed the gear shift back to park and jumped out of the cab. She headed around to the back, shooting more stragglers on the way. She only had five bullets left in Jerry, and four in Ben. She opened the doors, and pulled the gurney out again, before collapsing it to the ground next to Otis. It took a lot of clever maneuvering, and more time than she really had to get him on the gurney, strapped in, and up into the back of the ambulance.

     As Livvie slammed the back doors shut, she breathed a sigh of relief. On her way back to the front she had to shoot seven Walkers, which meant she was back to one in the barrel for both of her guns. She hopped in the drivers seat, and locked herself in. ‘Let’s see how an ambulance does when running down Walkers,’ Livvie thought, grinning in morbid glee.




     When Livvie pulled up the winding dirt road of the Greene homestead, there were people on the porch, and in the front yard. She could see Shane leaning against the front of a truck. She decided to turn right, and park the ambulance behind the stables. She would wait for the right time to tell everyone where Otis was. She got out, and took the keys with her, locking the cab, and then moving to the back to lock those doors so no-one would disturb Otis’ body.

They were already open. The back of the ambulance was empty. She must not have shut the doors tightly enough, or maybe she hadn’t secured the gurney right. Either way Otis and the gurney were now missing. Dammit! She had promised to bring him home, and now he was out there somewhere, in the middle of the road. Livvie decided she would go back out there tomorrow and find him. Right now she needed to clean up, eat, and rest. Then she could go find Otis, and retrieve her car, and the trailer.

     There was something bugging her Slayer Sense, but she couldn’t quite figure it out. She’d felt it when she was here earlier too, but she couldn’t figure it out then either. It was like she was sensing a group of Walkers near-by, but she didn’t see any anywhere. They didn’t seem to be coming closer, she couldn’t hear them or smell them, so she shrugged it off fro now. She would keep an extra careful eye out, but she wasn’t feeling too big of a threat right now. She would wait until tomorrow to investigate further.

     Defeated, Livvie walked up to the farmhouse in a tired shuffle. When she got there she saw it was Rick and Lori on the porch. She ignored Shane. “Hey, Rick,” she said to him softly. “How’s Carl doing?”

     “He’s in surgery right now,” replied Rick. “We got the medical supplies in time, and Hershel’s working on him.”

     Livvie gave a soft smile, “Good,” she said as she looked to Lori. “I’m Olivia McKinley, you must be Lori.” She started to reach out her hand to shake Lori’s when she noticed she still had her gloves on, and they were bloody. She let her hand drop down to her side. “Oops,” she said. “I’ll be sure to get back to you on that handshake after I’m cleaned up a bit.”

     “Nice to meet you, Livvie,” Lori said softly. At Livvie’s confused look, Lori explained. “Rick told me about you. Thank you for helping get Carl here, so he could get help.”

     “Of course,” said Livvie. “I was glad to help.”

     Heavy footsteps came towards them, and Livvie turned so her back wouldn’t be towards the incoming Shane.

     “Why’re you so mussed up there, Livvie?” Shane asked suspiciously. Rudely.

     “Oh, I was just having a rasstle with your mama, Smokey. We’ve been having a secret affair for years! Your daddy just couldn’t make her come anymore, and I, very eagerly, stepped up to the plate,” Livvie said with a leer.

     Shane stepped threateningly towards Livvie. “Don’t you talk about my mama, you bitch!” he yelled in her face.

     Livvie’s face turned into a glare, and her eyes burned into Shane’s with hate, and promises of slow painful death. “Then mind your own damn business, asshole!” she growled. Shane stumbled back a step, as his instincts screamed in terror.

     Lori was looking between the two with wide eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. Rick, ever the peace maker, intervened. “Now, you two, just calm the hell down,” he said to them. “We don’t need this right now, alright?” His brows were knit together in confusion. He looked at Livvie, “Smokey?” He asked a little fearfully. He both wanted to know, and didn’t want to know.

     Livvie smirked evilly. Rick was now sure he didn’t actually want to know.

     “Well,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly. “If you’re Ranger Rick, then Shane’s got to be Smokey The Bear. I mean, he has the pants after all.” She explained.

     “I’m not a Ranger,” explained Rick. Slowly. “I’m a Deputy Sheriff.”

     “Oh, I know that! But the hat is just too perfect! And you’re name is Rick, so I have now dubbed you Ranger Rick, and there’s nothing you can do about it!” she said with a smirk.

     Rick rubbed his face as he shook his head. Lori put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly, but she had a tiny smirk on one side of her face.

     Shane was obviously fuming. Livvie didn’t care.

     “Why are you covered in blood?” Shane bit out through clenched teeth.

     “Oh, please!” snarked Livvie. “I am not ‘covered in blood.’ I’m a little messy, sure! But it’s not that bad.”

     Shane looked like he was about to have a stroke. Livvie was pleased with this. “I’ve been out killing Walkers, you moron,” Livvie told Shane.

     “Walkers? Where?” panicked Shane, turning in a circle. “Are they in the woods? Rick, I need ammo!”

     “No, Shane,” Livvie said coolly, with a hint of maliciousness. “At the High School.”

Shane paled significantly.

     “I went there to make sure you and Otis were okay,” Livvie continued. “But you were already gone. So I killed a few dozen Walkers, you know, since I was there anyways.”

     Shane looked relieved, and also confused.

     “A few dozen,” breathed Lori. “You’re kiddin,’ right?”

     “No,” replied Livvie. “I must have killed, like, a hundred and sixty of ‘em.”

     Lori looked at all the weapons strapped all over Livvie. “With yer guns? You have that much ammunition?” Lori asked.

     “No,” Livvie answered. “I took out maybe seventy-nine, with my guns. The rest I took out with my swords, and my knives. Oh, and an ambulance.”

     Silence. The crickets kept on chirping happily, as the people in the yard stared at each other.

     “Look,” started Livvie, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is that Carl makes it through his surgery. We can talk about the rest later,” she finished.

     Shane glared at Livvie one last time, and then went back over to the truck. The rest of them settled in to wait for news on Carl.






     Hershel came out, and told everyone that Carl was going to make it. Livvie was pleased with the news. Carl was a cute little guy, and smart too. She wanted to get to know him better.

     Rick went with Hershel to tell Patricia what had happened to Otis. Livvie would have gone too, if she hadn’t lost Otis’ body. It would have been a comfort to these people to have his body, and Livvie was very disappointed in herself for losing him.

     Maggie found her, and after finding out that she had left her car elsewhere, offered her some clean clothes to change into. She would have to wait for Shane to finish his shower, and then she could bathe. With hot water. Yes! In the meantime, Maggie got her something to eat, and she inhaled it gratefully.

     After Livvie was washed, and changed, she headed out to clean off her weapons, and her gloves. When she was done she bundled them up with her dirty clothes, grabbed her semi-clean shirt off the tree where she had left it to dry earlier, and set off to find a place to sleep. She ran into Glenn as she walked through his groups’ hastily erected camp.

     “You got a place to sleep?” Glenn asked.

     “Not yet. I left all my stuff in my car, and my car is still over near the High School, so I don’t have my tent or sleeping bag.” Livvie told him.

     “Well,” said Glenn. “I’ve got an extra bag, and plenty of room left over in my tent, if you want. I promise to be a complete gentleman!”

     Livvie smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said. “I’d really appreciate it. And, just so you know, I sleep with this,” here she pulled out her large kukri Amut. “Under my pillow. So, I won’t have to worry about if you, or anyone else, is a gentleman or not.” Her eyes shifted over to Shane, and he looked up as if feeling her glare. His eyes widened at the sight of her unsheathed blade. She quirked an eyebrow at him challengingly. He looked away.

     “O-Okay,” squeaked Glenn. Livvie put her knife away. “Right this way,” he told her with a shaky smile. He was probably rethinking his gracious offer.

     After she had her things settled into Glenn’s tent, and her borrowed sleeping bag set out, she headed out to do a brief perimeter check before bed. Andrea, Dale, Carol, and Daryl were still out on the freeway according to Glenn. They should make their way over in the morning. When she was satisfied that she was safe enough, for now, she headed back to Glenn’s tent to sleep.

     When she stepped into the tent, and zipped it shut, she saw that Glenn was already asleep. He was snoring, daintily. It wasn’t loud and obnoxious, but rather quiet and cute. Like a little baby snore. Livvie smiled to herself as she slipped into her borrowed sleeping bag, and cuddled into her borrowed pillow. She checked to make sure Amut was where she wanted her, and unsheathed, and then settled in to sleep.





     “… or if it’s just a habit,” said Andrea. She and Daryl were walking in the woods looking for Sophia, and they had happened across a camp site. They had also happened across the former resident of said campsite, and were watching him as he hung from a tree growling and snarling at them.

     “Waste of an arrow,” said Daryl, aiming for the Walker.

     “Wait,” said Andrea, suddenly. “If you show me how, we can use my new gun.” She pulled the gun from where it was tucked into the back of her pants.

The silencer was now attached, and a more garish, girlish, thing Daryl had never seen. Pink, it was! Engraved with vines, and little flowers, with the name ‘GiGi’ engraved along it’s length. He shuddered mildly. A gun should not be, should never be, pink!

     Andrea kept the barrel of the gun pointed to the ground, as she waited for Daryl to tell her what to do. He swung his crossbow over his shoulder, and reached for the gun hesitantly. If Merle ever found out he had even touched this sham of a weapon, he would never hear the end of it. He stayed close to Andrea as he showed her what he was doing to the gun.

     “Firs’ ya gotta chamber a round,” said Daryl. He slid the slide back, and did so. “Then ya take off the safety,” he flipped it with his finger so the red dot was showing. “Now, ya gotta aim,” he continued. “An don’ point it at anythin, ever, that you don’ intend on killin.’ An’ ya better never point it at me,” he said sternly.

     Daryl helped Andrea grip the gun correctly, and then, with her permission, he stepped behind her and reached around to help her aim. “Now,” he said. “Breathe. Ya gotta keep breathing, or yer gonna mess up, or pass out. Plant yer’ feet shoulder width apart,” he kicked her ankles until he was satisfied with her stance. “Keep yer finger on the trigger guard until yer ready to fire. When yer ready, put yer finger on tha trigger, and gently squeeze, don’t pull, as you breathe out.”

     Andrea was shaking slightly. It had been months since she had been this close to a guy. And here she was, with Daryl Dixon’s arms around her, and she was getting a bit turned on. He did have nice arms, but this was Daryl Dixon! She shook her head, and followed Daryl instructions. She took a breath, and as she let it out, she squeezed the trigger. The recoil took her by surprise, but Daryl made sure she didn’t drop the gun. The bullet went wide, and completely missed the Walkers’ head.

     Daryl adjusted her arms, and stepped back from her. “Thas’ okay, jus try again. And keep a hold of yer gun! It ain’t no good to ya if’n ya drop it!”

     It took Andrea three more tries to get the Walker in the head, and then she put the safety back on her weapon. After every shot, Daryl had given her advice on her technique; Her stance, her grip, her aim. She could feel herself getting better with every word of advice he spoke.

     “There ya go!” he encouraged, as the Walker finally stopped moving. Seriously, he sounded encouraging! Andrea didn’t know he had it in him! And he was the only person, other than Livvie, who seemed to think her capable of handling a gun.

     “Thank you, Daryl,” Andrea said sincerely. “It really means a lot to me that you would help me with this. Really. Thank you.”

     “Ah, ain’t nothin’” said Daryl.

And was that…? Yes, it was! Andrea swore that she just saw him blushing!

     “Let’s git back,” Daryl changed the subject briskly. “That can’ be comfortable,” he said as Andrea stuck the gun back in her pants.

     Andrea chuckled. “No, it’s not. But I haven’t figured out how to put on the holster that came with it.”

     “I can help ya figure it out, if ya want,” offered Daryl. “It can’t be tha’ hard.”

     “I’d like that,” responded Andrea. She refrained from saying ‘Thank you,’ again, as she could tell it made him uncomfortable. They were silent as they made their way back to Dale, and Carol.





     Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am making no money off of this story. I do not mean anything religious with this story. I am using a fictional interpretation of  ‘God’ etc, as is done in Buffy. I do not mean any offense to anyone. I do not own ‘Zero Grav.’ Outdoor lounge chairs, nor do I own or have any affiliation with Ford or the Escape Hybrid. I do not own Sig Saur firearms, or anything associated with them. I do not own Ben & Jerry’s, Rukia, Elektra, Amut, Spartacus, or Mr. Miagi. I don’t even know if I spelled that right. ;) I don’t own Smokey the Bear, or Ranger Rick, although I’ve always been a big fan of the little Raccoon Ranger in his little hat.

The End?

You have reached the end of "The Slayer of The Walking Dead" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 15 Nov 11.

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