Ellie Williams panted gazing down at you with a cold stare; it'd been a whole six months building up to this moment. A whole six months of her tracking each route you took, scoping out your life and tracking you. Her sketchbooks were filled to the brim with the people in your life, your address and your rank in the WLF.

The apocalypse had taken a strain on your relationship, sure. Ellie failed to realise she was the main fault behind this; her psychopathic and obsessive tendencies had caused you to want to leave; but couldn't you see you were hers? Couldn't you see she was meant for you? And any other fucking person who tried to win you over could— die by her hands.

She knelt down, dropping the blood coated crowbar beside her as you sobbed from fear,

a soft shushing sound escaping her lips, she had never meant to scare you, why would she? She loved you. She just needed you to understand that you belonged to her; "Hey.. Hey.. Don't cry, I did this for you--," she rasped softly, gently lifting your chin with a deranged love-sick obsession.