𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 ✧ 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀

21. (now i know) what you are

   He, above her, his hands wrapped around her throat, the dark clouds pelting harsh drops obscuring her vision until he leans to tower over her and he can see him as clearly as in her many previous nightmares. His lips lift into a joyful snarl when her pupils dilate.

   But not of fear—adrenaline.

   Plunging her thumb into his eye, he falters and she wraps her legs around his middle and flips them over so she is now on top of him. Josephine wraps her two hands over his throat and begins squeezing. Blinking back the involuntary tears, Phillip reaches behind and pulls the chain tightly around her throat. The golden cross straightens down to point at him accusingly and in shame.

   And as the seconds roll longer and she doesn't seem unfazed. Josephine smirks down at him, her strong lungs capable of holding onto nothing. Phillip's eye widen in shock and opts to shove her off. The hand that isn't choking her, trails up her chin.

   "AHH!" Phillip lurches out as Josephine bites down on half of his pointer and middle finger.

   He tries pulling his hand out from her mouth, but his fight or flight response forces him to tighten his grip on her gold necklace and throw her off him; with the single motion, he snaps her necklace off and his two fingers leave his hand.

   Throwing the last memento Josephine has of her mother behind him, Phillip brings his mutilated hand to his chest. Suppressing his pain, he rolls to his knees ready to kill her once and for all, only to be met with the barrel of his gun and Josephine Steele standing under the harsh rain with a furious frown.

   He sighs, knowing nothing else to do, and buries his knees deeper into the moist floor. The pattering of the rain flutters his eye to a close, almost in defeat. At the exact moment he opens his eye, Josephine swings the metal harshly and knocks him to his side.

   Phillip clutches his hand into himself, and just as Josephine aligns her aim with his cowering head, a walker sneers at her from behind. Grabbing the walker by the shoulder, Jo wastes a bullet in ending it; then another from the wandering group of the woods.

   "Ha," From his laid-back position on the wet grass, Phillip chuckles with his cracked ribs poking his lung. He doesn't have to see to know they're about to get overrun by rotten teeth.

   Josephine scopes the area, walkers in a manageable distance, before walking towards the governor. The heels of her boots dig into the mud with every heavy step to find what is so funny to him. What is this murderer of little girls laughing at?

   Towering over him, Josephine brings her boot and presses it to his throat. He doesn't bother pushing her away. Instead, looking up at the dark shadow she is above him, he continues to grin.

   "You. . . You," he barely huffs out, Josephine restraining herself to hear his final words. "You kill me, you'll die, too."

   Her once bright, doe eyes are now dull and narrow. Her flaring nostrils still, and her snarling lips lay flat. Staring down at him reminds her of when he had her in this position: in Woodbury, weak, and begging for mercy.

   So she shows him the same compassion he gave her once.

   Lowering herself to one knee, her hand strikes down fast to catch his throat; sinking her nails into his flesh, she manages to lift his lolling head closer to her own. Phillip can feel the wrath against her cold skin, her eyes glimmering with venom.

   "I'm already dead," Josephine hisses.

   Angling his head closer, she leans into him and brings the pistol to shoot him through the back of his skull. She stays still for a few seconds, feeling the warmth of his blood trail down her forehead into her eyelash and past the scar on her lips.