𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱𓂃⋮˚☽˚｡⋆
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Esme was wandering the block, not a thought in her mind as she remained carefree. Even with bad things happening all around her, she was always able to find peace in the outdoors.
Something about the safety and casual nature of neighborhoods in Alexandria soothed her. It was like watching a movie about past times where she was the star.
From a distance, an unwelcome interruption disrupted her peace, courtesy of a figure she'd rather avoid.
"Hey," a voice, all too familiar and unwanted, cut through the calm.
Esme closed her eyes momentarily, releasing a sigh before turning to locate the source. There, on his porch, rocking in a chair, sat Pete.
"Hi, Pete," she said, slightly confused since he rarely ever addressed her.
He stood, motioning for the girl to come to him. Reluctantly, she complied, jogging up the porch steps and looking up at him, maintaining a cautious distance.
"You've been hanging out with Ron a lot, haven't you?" He asked, the tone in his voice a murky blend that stirred a sense of fear within her.
She grasped the hem of her shirt nervously, the fabric crumpling in her closed fists. "I mean, yeah. I guess so; he's my friend."
"Your friend?" He scoffed, swaying closer, and the unmistakable scent of alcohol wafted from his clothes. "Friend's don't sleep together, Esme."
Esme's blood ran cold.
What?
Her face flushed, sweat raced down her neck, her breath hitched. Confused was an understatement. She didn't understand how he came to this conclusion, especially since she and Ron had not slept together.
As a result of the girl giving no reply, Pete let out a low growl of displeasure, his eyes narrowing. "Are you fucking my son, Esme?" He asked again, looming so close that his imposing figure cast a shadow over her, making her shrink beneath it.
After a moment of fumbling with her words, Esme was able to force out an answer. "No, Pete, I—"
"Don't you dare lie to me, bitch!" Pete yowled, grabbing hold of the girl's arm with such force that sent a jolt up her spine.
His nails bit into her skin through the thick material of her protective sweater. A panicked yelp slipped past her teeth as she tried to tear away from him, the man not budging at the resistance.
"Pete," she whimpered, her breath now hard and uneven once unable to break free. "Let go of me—"
"I don't want to ever see you, or your murderous people in my home around my family again, do you hear me?!" He bellowed into her face, his hot spit landing on her cheek and seeping into the sturdy medical wrap she wore.
"Yes, okay!" She cried out, desperately attempting to shove his meaty hand off her. Panic surged through her, the situation too eerily familiar. Fighting off a living man wasn't a scenario she wished to revisit.
Tears welled in her eyes as she shut them tightly, trying to soothe herself once she found it getting harder to fill her lungs.
Suddenly, the back of the man's palm collided with the girl's face as he sent his hand hard down onto her. Buzzing pain spread rapidly, a meek squeal of shock tumbling off her tongue.
As she fell back from the force, Pete let go, sending her onto the ground. She grunted upon impact, sitting shakily as she cradled the burning pain. Pete knelt down, invading the quivering girl's personal space.
"No son of mine," he hissed lowly. "Will bed a freak."
A soft breath of sorrow escaped Esme's mouth as her bottom lip trembled, looking away. Her heart ached.
"Hey, hey—what the hell's goin' on over here?" The panicked voice growing closer pulled Esme's eyes back open, her attention following the sound. Rick was jogging up to them, his hand hovering over the gun tucked tightly into his holster.
Esme removed her hands from her face, a small blood smear coating the tips of her fingers from where her nose had begun to bleed. She had to grasp the railing to pull herself up as her knees wobbled from the adrenaline.
Rick was up the steps and quick to face Pete, their mouths fixated in scowls and their breath heavy. Esme gave Rick's sleeve a light tug to get the fuming man's attention.
"Rick, it's fine," she pleaded in a whisper.
"Yeah, it's fine, officer," Pete sneered, his words slurred from his intoxication. "She just tripped. You know how cripples can be."
Rick was ready to attack, a fierce determination in his eyes—a look Esme was familiar with. Before the man could lunge, Esme pulled him back by his sleeve.
"Rick, please."
Rick looked down at her, his lips tucking inward as he thought. "You sure?" He asked her quietly, raising his brows in question. His fists balled.
Esme would've relished seeing Rick unleash his fury upon the man, watching him crumble into a mess of teeth and hair on the concrete under Rick's rageful boots. But Ron wouldn't have liked that, and Esme didn't want to put him through more pain.
She knew how Ron felt about his father, the deep resentment and hatred. Ron may have wished nothing but suffering for his mental father, but he was bound by the complex ties of family.
So, Esme nodded in confirmation. "Yes. I'm sure."
Rick let out a soft sigh. He took her wrist gently in his hand, guiding her down the steps while casting one final glare in Pete's direction. Once away, he knelt down in front of her, his eyes darting all around the visible parts of her face as he inspected her injury.
"Are you okay?" He asked while wiping away a bit of the blood from her nose.
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
She swallowed hard. "Yeah."
Rick gave her a sympathetic look, rising to his feet and placing a hand atop her head momentarily to comfort.
"Alright. I'll take care of it, don't worry." He looked off back in the direction of the house, squinting in the sun as he seemed lost in thought. "I don't want you going over there anymore, okay?"
"Okay."
❦
Esme was over the wall.
The transition was a blur. One moment, she stood alone on the sidewalk, processing the physical abuse she had endured from her friend's father, and the next, she saw Carl with his distinctive blue puffy jacket scaling the walls of Alexandria. Without much thought, she propelled herself into danger, copying the reckless behavior she often scolded him for.
Crunching leaves and disturbed earth guided her towards the source of the noise, her steps light in action. Carl, not known for his quiet movement, made it easier for her to trail him. In this moment, she was thankful for his lack of wilderness finesse, setting aside her usual frustration with his clumsy antics.
After a few minutes, voices reached her ears, one in particular that she dreaded.
"Carl," Enid's voice sounded, nearby, but not close enough to be easily spotted. "It's not worth it trying to sneak up on me; I can hear you."
"Damn," Carl's voice responded. "I thought I was getting better."
"It's a miracle you survived out there that long with those clunky boots."
"Shut up," he chuckled.
Intrigued, Esme followed the sound of their banter, cautiously weaving through the forest. The voices remained stationary, making it a matter of moments before she closed the distance. Esme couldn't believe Enid had Carl following her out here again, especially with the confrontation yesterday.
Suddenly, Carl said something that caught her off-guard.
"You think Esme knows we go out here?"
Yes.
"No," Enid scoffed. "That girl's as dense as a box of rocks."
Esme dropped her jaw. She knew Enid could be mean, but that felt excessive considering the girl hardly knew her. Plus, she thought they'd kind of...sort of...connected the other day. Sure, it ended with a threat of physical violence, but still. Esme expected Carl to defend her, but to her shock, he just chuckled. She felt her heart sink.
In her all-consuming thoughts of self-pity, Esme hadn't been paying attention to where she was going, and her foot got wedged under a large root threaded in the dirt.
A gasp of shock escaped her lips as she fell harshly on her stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs. She groaned, clutching her torso as she rolled onto her back.
The familiar sound of unsheathing knives startled her from her pain. She covered her mouth, going still as she listened for the sound of retraction. The proximity of the two became clear as she realized they must have heard her stumble.
"What was that?" Enid asked.
"I don't know," Carl said. Esme could hear the fear in his voice. He cleared his throat. His next words came out deeper, more macho, and Esme could imagine Enid's hand on his arm.
"Hello?" He called. "Is anybody out there?"
Esme dared not breathe. She imagined her body flattening out, sinking into the ground until she was a quiet patch of forest floor.
"Maybe we should go back," Carl suggested after a moment. "You never know what's out here."
"So far all I've found out here is you," Enid replied with a hint of flirtation.
Guess they're not afraid anymore...
Esme began to ponder the relationship between the two. Initially dismissing it as merely being stupid kids together, now she wondered if it was more than that.
The thought made her uneasy. Carl was surely smart enough not to fall for a girl he had just met, especially a girl who was a total jerk to his best friend.
Esme carefully stood back up, dusting the crumbles of dried leaves off her clothing. She continued on toward the sound of their voices.
Eventually, she caught sight of them sitting against a log in a small clearing. Esme ducked behind a distant tree, peeking around it to observe the two. She wanted to know what was so intriguing that they constantly ventured out here.
From what it looked like, it was pretty boring. Enid was carving mindless doodles into the wood while Carl stared at his folded hands in his lap.
Carl finally broke the silence. "Ron's a good guy," he uttered, his gaze shifting towards Enid.
Esme couldn't help but smile inwardly at the mere mention of Ron's name. However, she had sensed a change in Carl's demeanor over the past week. His previous warmth towards Ron seemed to have cooled, replicating Esme's own sentiments towards Enid.
The reasons for the shift weren't entirely clear to her, but she assumed they were similar to why she found herself disliking Enid. Despite this, it was oddly comforting to hear Carl speak positively about Ron.
Enid's face betrayed her irritation. Ron had hinted at the possibility of ending things with Enid, and it appeared that he had followed through.
"Yeah," Enid grumbled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I guess."
A confused furrow creased Carl's brow. "You guess?"
Enid met his gaze with a mixture of frustration and resignation. "He was pretty quick to replace me."
Carl fell into a contemplative silence, his internal dialogue playing out on his expressive face.
Suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over Esme. While she had been resenting Enid for seemingly stealing her best friend, had she unintentionally played a role in taking Enid's boyfriend?
Esme and Ron shared a connection that was entirely innocent, and Ron's decision to end things with Enid had nothing to do with her. At least, that's what Esme believed.
"I'm sorry," Carl mumbled, breaking the tense silence. "I kinda feel the same way about Esme."
Esme's heart skipped a beat. Enid continued to voice her grievances, but the words became distant echoes drowned out by the hum in Esme's ears.
Carl felt abandoned? The realization hit her like a sudden storm. How could he think that?
A guttural snarl echoed through the trees, causing Esme's head to snap up. The sinister sounds of monsters surrounded them, responding to Carl's brave call to confront the 'stalker' in the woods.
Panic struck Esme as she darted into a large hollowed-out space inside of a tree, pressing herself tightly against the rough bark, and frantically searching her pockets for a weapon.
"Shit," she quietly cursed, realizing she had nothing—no knife or any means of defense. Peering around the tree, she could barely discern the chaos unfolding beyond.
Enid's fearful voice pierced through the cacophony, "Carl?" she cried, fear loud in her words.
"Enid! Run!" Carl's voice resounded, punctuated by the slashing sounds of his knife fending off the approaching monsters.
A tall monster with a gaping wound where its right eye used to be fell under Carl's blade, but more and more poured through the treeline. He was quickly overwhelmed.
Enid's hurried footsteps drew closer to where Esme hid. Enid ran over to claim the unknowingly taken hiding spot as her own, standing at the entrance with a shocked expression.
"Esme?" She panted, keeping her volume low.
Esme clicked her tongue, frustrated with the lack of options, and forcefully pulled Enid into the tree with her. The tight space barely accommodated both of them, their bodies pressed together as the heat from their heavy breaths filled the confined atmosphere.
Carl's grunts and the growls of the monsters reverberated even within the trunk.
Esme tugged the backpack off Enid's shoulder, quickly rummaging around its contents for any sort of self-defense.
Enid tucked a strand of her tangled hair behind her ear, her brows furrowed tightly as she watched Esme.
"What are you doing out here?" Enid questioned.
Esme found a knife and shoved the bag back in Enid's arms once getting what she wanted.
"I can't believe you ran," Esme scolded, shaking her head as she swiftly pulled a hair tie from around her wrist and put her hair back into a frantic ponytail. "I can't believe you ran."
Enid blinked, narrowing her eyes as her lips stayed parted to reel in oxygen. "What?"
Esme shot her a cold glance, securing the knife in her grip as she readied herself to face the impending danger. As she stepped out of the safety of the trunk, Enid grabbed Esme's shirt, attempting to pull her back.
"Esme!" She hissed. "What are you doing!?"
Esme ripped herself from the girl's grasp. "I'm not running."
She darted out of the tree, leaving a bewildered Enid behind. Esme's eyes fixated on Carl fighting off a monster that towered over his body.
He was desperately trying to shove it off, his knife flung just out of reach. The chomping jaws were dangerously close to his face. Carl's arms shook with the strain, and Esme saw he was tiring.
She raced over, lifting her knife and stabbing it down into the back of the monster's head. The tip of the blade tore through the brittle scalp and came bursting out just under the left eye in a spray of blood and brains.
The gurgles of the creature instantly ceased, its body going limp. Carl coughed and sputtered, covered in gore, while Esme, with a swift kick, sent the lifeless monster rolling away. She retrieved the knife from its cranium.
She took a deep breath, looking around at the numerous monster corpses as she brushed away a stray brown curl from her eye-line.
Could this be all of them? she wondered.
It seemed like so many before. Carl had handled himself admirably, taking out half a dozen of the vile things before the last had overtaken him. In spite of herself, she was proud of him.
Carl hobbled to his feet. He was shaky, uncoordinated, and sweaty, his face and chest covered in sticky, black murk.
He dusted himself off, bending down to scoop his hat from the ground and putting it back on his head before finally looking at her.
"Esme," he asked, their gazes meeting. "What are you doing out here?"
Esme glanced over her shoulder as Enid timidly emerged from the tree. Enid's eyes moved over the fallen bodies, then to Carl, and finally settled on Esme, taking in the spray of blood on her face, most of it absorbed by the bandages covering Esme's deformities.
Unable to meet Esme's gaze, Enid dropped her eyes.
Esme pursed her lips, letting out a slow breath as she looked back at Carl. Wiping a gloppy bit of coagulated brain matter from his face, he barely stifled a gag. Esme sighed.
He didn't deserve her lecture; the surprise attack was enough to teach the boy his lesson.
"I'll always be here for you," she sighed.
❦
2,800 w
Next chapters are gonna be a handful so...don't say I didn't warn you