𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | TWD [Book 1]

LXXVII. The Door Between Hell & Heaven

They stand solemnly before the freshly dug grave, the distant moans of walkers serve as a backdrop as Rick steps forward, his movements deliberate as he places his gun on the makeshift cross that marks Carl's final resting place. Madeleine's gaze remains distant, detached from the reality of their loss, lost in a haze of sorrow and disbelief.

As the sound of approaching walkers grows louder, Michonne springs into action, her katana slicing through the air with deadly precision as she dispatches the undead threat. Madeleine moves mechanically, her movements robotic as she retrieves her own sword and joins Michonne.

With each swing of her blade, Madeleine's mind drifts further from the present moment, consumed by a silent anguish that threatens to consume her. As the last of the walkers fall beneath Michonne's katana and the gates of Alexandria are secured by her, Madeleine turns away without a word, her footsteps echoing hollowly against the silence of the deserted streets. Rick and Michonne exchange a worried glance, their own grief overshadowed by concern for her.

They follow Madeleine back to the house, where she kneels before the pillar adorned with handprints, her fingers tracing the familiar contours with a gentle reverence. Rick passes by without a word, his own grief etched upon his features, while Michonne stands behind Madeleine, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"When did you do this?" Michonne's voice breaks the silence.

"Yesterday," Madeleine replies in a monotone, her voice devoid of emotion as she stares blankly ahead, lost in the memories of days gone by.

Michonne's tears mingle with the dust and grime as she kneels beside the pillar, her fingers tracing its contours with a mixture of reverence and sorrow. Madeleine stands up straight, her expression stoic and unyielding even as the approaching footsteps of more walkers fill the air. With a subtle tap on Michonne's shoulder, Madeleine silently urges her to head inside the house.

"Hey," Michonne's voice breaks through the empty house, her eyes flicking towards Rick who is busying himself with gathering supplies in the kitchen. "We got to go."

Rick nods solemnly, his hands moving mechanically as he distributes bags filled with supplies to each of the women. Without another word spoken, they make their way to the front door, their footsteps echoing hollowly in the empty house. As they step outside into the harsh light of day, the weight of their losses hangs heavy between them.

With practiced efficiency, they load the supplies into the van parked by the house, the sound of metal clinking against metal before Madeleine slips into the driver's seat, her jaw clenched in determination as Michonne and Rick linger behind, their shared pain evident in the lines etched upon their faces.

Rick's touch is gentle as he brushes Michonne's arm. "Hey," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Michonne's gaze drifts towards the distant horizon, where the flickering flames of a burning building draw the attention of nearby walkers. "He used to sit on the roof," she says quietly.