I stepped into the blackness, the only light was a few eerie candles lit far down the corridor, nobody knows what could be lurking down here. I rifled around my rucksack in search of the flashlight. I flicked on the light, shining it far down the corridor, thankfully there was noone down here.
I did my best to stay quiet, I knew there was not a hope I could make it outside without alerting a guard. I had to be ready, I had to be able to take a life.
The corridors were long, but all safely cleared of Walkers. I sucked in a deep breath, composing myself before continuing. I remember this place, it was the route I used to get away, only narrowly escaping the grasp of the leader of Terminus, Mary. She wasn't exactly a leader of sorts, her son, Gareth, was much more ruthless, they believed they were being humain, killing to save themselves.
"Gareth, go check on the prisoners, I don't trust their leader, he seemes to be up to something." A womans voice ordered, I knew it was Mary, her voice had never left my mind since I escaped Terminus the first time.
"Yes, mom." Gareth mumbelled before his footfalls became lighter and I could hear he was long gone.
I backed up against the wall of the corridor, peaking ever so slowly around the corner. The sight that beheld me was not pretty. Mary was lighting candles all around a large brick-walled room. Her back was turned to me, arced over brass candle holders on the opposite side of the room. The room was covered in blood. The floors, the walls, all covered in blood and candles. I would have admired the twinkly lights if I weren't in a deathly situation.
I glanced around, at the walls. Thick black lettering invaded the brick, the words were clear.
WE ARE FIRST ALWAYS.
The room was a memorial. To those who died, as part of whatever happened before they became cannibals. I plucked unholstered my handgun and held it to Mary, stepping out of the darkness, into the dim light of the candles.
Mary turned and jumped when she saw me, then her expression turned from fear, to amusement.
"I'm here to save my friends, the ones you locked up to kill. Like many of the others fooled by your signs." I spat.
Mary laughed turning to fully face me.
"The signs... they were real, it was a sanctuary. People came and took this place. And they raped, and they killed. They laughed... over weeks. But we got out, and we fought and we got it back, and we heard the message. You're the butcher... or you're the cattle."
I scoffed and stepped closer to the middle-aged woman.
"Is that what you tell yourself? To clear your conscience?"
Mary laughed again.
"You can't have a conscience in this word, this," She gestured around her.
"Is all we have left of people we lost, trying to help others."
"So you do what? Do what they did to you, onto innocents?" I positioned the gun on her head, ready to pull the deadly trigger.
"I don't have to explain myself to a child. You're not going to kill me. How is your friend? Chelsie was it?"
I visibly cringed, my concentration lost for just a second. Mary had advanced, until she was at least five feet from where I stood.
"She's gone, isn't she? How unfortunate. You're the butcher, or you're the cattle." She mused.
I couldn't let my emotions take the most of me. I readied the trigger, but I was too late to pull it, Mary had picked up a long pole of golden metal and crashed it into my knees. I fell to the ground and the gun clattered away from me. I tried to roll away but she pulled me back by the legs, positioning herself on top of me, pinning down each of my limbs. Mary grabbed my neck by both hands and squeezed.
The world seemed darker and I was rapidly loosing oxygen. I clawed at her hands to no avail. I could feel my face turning purple, my windpipe being crushed beneath her fingertips. I saw the gun in the corner of my eyes, I threw my arm out, grazing the cool metal with my fingertips. With every ounce of strength in my body, I shifted, just a few inches towards the gun. My vision became blurry, but my fingers came in contact with the metal of the gun. I grabbed and with my last ounce of strength I bent my arm towards the woman strangelling me. I pulled the trigger and immediatly her hands fell limp over my neck and she fell forward.
I rolled to the side, just as she came in contact with the ground. I breathed in a long needed breath and rubbed at my neck, which was probably marked with purple bruises. I wanted to cry, I wanted to break down and let myself die, I was so close to death I could almost touch it, the alluring darkness threatening to take me.
I couldn't speak, hardly swallow. My breathing was laboured and my windpipe bruised. I pulled myself up into a standing position and took one look at the corpse that lay before me, a lone bullet hole deep in her temple oozed deep red blood on the candle lit flooring. I took a deep breath and slipped my handgun into it's holster, grabbing my machete.
The door to whatever problems I will encounter lay ten feet away. I quickly left the candle room, leaving the dead woman behind me. The light was a welcomed sight, even though I was still in danger.
I set my eyes on the faded red containers that held my group, only to see a gas tank explode in brilliant orange flames. The fences were broken down and the Walkers began to flood into Terminus. The flames consuming anything in it's path.
I will save them.
Heyyyyyy!! I just wanted to say again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY GEORGINA! ImOut0fMyMind
THIS SHIT IS INTENSE!
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Forever Alone // Carl Grimes (The Walking Dead)Fanfiction
| Book One of the 'Forever' trilogy | ~•~ "I'm like a grenade, Carl. I'll explode one day and I'll take everything and everyone down with me. I cause trouble, hell, I am trouble, and I don't want you to fall because of my temper or my stupid need to...