After your world fell into black putrefaction, you soon realize that walkers are the least of your worries. Tragedy and loss has led you to fear attachment more so than the undead. You thought hiking the trail of survival was best accomplished alone...
The cafeteria was an amusement park of madness! A carousel of chaos! A funhouse of fright! The Saviors scattered about, disoriented. It wasn't until you reached the balcony above the hall, after taking Nicole to the lounge, that you realized why. Somehow Gio had found a way to mess with the generators, and the lights were flickering rapidly. That clever bastard, you thought. The men's perplexed faces were caught in strobes of bright light, then shadowed in darkness. On, off, on, off. You adjusted your vision and scanned the area below. It was next to impossible to keep track of their movements. They darted this way and that like frightened fish in an aquarium. Blood pooled on the floor, and a few of the men grunted, pressing their hands against soaked gashes. Axe wounds. For a second, you spotted Dwight's mangled disposition. He was shouting orders to the men to keep their eyes fixed on the lumberjack with the mask. Then, you saw Hulk Hogan clutching his rifle and circling the perimeter of the canteen. In a fleeting flash, you peered at Negan, who held Lucille at the ready. He appeared utterly determined to catch this masked stag. Stalking his prey like a salt-and-pepper wolf, he glowered and squinted his eyes. But Gio was nowhere to be seen. Where the fuck did he go?
All of the sudden, you felt a heavy hand fall on your shoulder in the darkness. You flinched and spun around. At first, you thought it was one of Negan's guards, but they had all dashed to the cafeteria. In another flash of light, you caught a glimpse of his face. "Gio," you whispered in surprise. He was unmasked and shirtless...for some reason. "Where in the name of God is your shirt?"
"That's not important," he interrupted, quietly. His chiseled pecs were speckled with blood, and his defined abs flexed. "If I'm gonna make it out alive, I need to distract those fuckers."
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
"As much as I'd love to save your ass, I'd be branded as a traitor," you hissed. "I can be ballsy, but not that ballsy."
"Just trust me!" Gio handed you the grotesque walker-mask. "Here, pull your hair back and throw this on."
"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" you muttered, placing the gross disguise over your face.
"I don't know, use that creativity of yours," he snipped. "There's just one more thing that I've gotta do."
"What the fuck do you mean?" You fixed your hair and squirmed your head into the mask. It stunk of decaying flesh.
He held your shoulders and kissed your forehead. "I'll explain later, Jackie. We'll see each other again. I know it."
You shoved your long hair beneath the mask. "I'd better have a good fucking reason for wearing this piece of corpse-trash," you pouted.
He let out a hushed chuckle. "Let's just say you're doing it for a childhood friend."
Your eyes smiled through the holes of the putrid garment. "Well, it's not good. But it's a reason."
Before Gio assumed his stealth-mode, he jested, "By the way...you look fabulous, darling."
