❛ YOU PROMISED. ❜
48. Mourning
❛ SEASON 07 EPISODE 01 ❜
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All of it stops— everything. I can hear nothing, even the sound of my own heartbeat is silent. It keeps me from breathing properly, the situation at hand, and all the air within my lungs is taken away.
It's surreal, or at least it feels that way; it has to be.
The blood on my cheek soaks into my skin, his blood; and this feeling, somehow, got rid of the aching pain of some man drilling his knee deep into my back. His dismembered and disfigured body is spread across the gravel, the tiny rocks and dust particles drowning beneath the stream of blood and chunks rolling out from what was his head.
I blink, finally releasing a weighty breath. "I.."
"What?" I glare at the ground, listening to the sound of his voice in hatred. "Was the joke that bad?"
"I'm gonna kill you." Rick tells my father in an unstable, shaky voice.
Negan pauses, standing and staring in pleasure and slight shock, before approaching Rick and kneeling in front of him. "What? I didn't quite catch that." Lowering the bloody bat, he leans closer and says to Rick, "You're gonna have to speak up."
Rick sniffles while dropping his head, raising it again to lock eyes with Negan. "Not today.. not tomorrow.. but I'm gonna kill you."
Negan looks him up and down, kissing his lips before letting out an airy laugh. "Jesus. Simon, what did he have.. a knife?"
"Uh.. he had a hatchet." Simon, his right-hand man, answers.
"A hatchet?" He looks over Rick's shoulder in amusement, smiling when Simon answers him again.
"He had an ax."
"Heh... Simon's my right-hand man." His eyes find and search through Rick's again. "Having one of those is important." Negan was teasing him, throwing the horrid death of his friend in
his face— my face, too. "I mean, what do you have left without them...? A whole lot of work. Do you have one?"
Rick keeps quiet, narrowing his darkened eyes at the murderer in front of him.
Negan narrowed his eyes. "Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh.. Or did I..?" He raises his bleeding bat and swings it in his face, clicking his tongue playfully.
A glare, much like mine but not as crude, took over his entire expression. Anger and irritation seeps through the mask of mourning; he wears his emotions on his sleeve— especially anger.
"Sure. Yeah." Negan breathes, eyes not leaving his. "Give me his ax." With the ax in his hands, Negan grins while standing up and shoving the weapon through a spot between his waist band and belt. "I'll be right back." Negan announces, snatching Rick up and dragging him across the ground— toward the van. "Maybe Rick will be with me. And if not, well, we can just turn these people inside out, won't we? I mean... the ones that are left."
After throwing Rick into the van, my dad turns and glares at the man who had his knee shoved into my back; and after he caught his attention, my dad raises his arm and uses his bat to point at him.
"You, get your damn knee off my daughter." He drops his arm and gets into the van after seeing the man get off my back. "Back in line, Bug." I gasp, placing both my hands on the ground and lifting myself up, all while listening to the door of the van slam.
Abraham. Negan stopped his bat at Abraham. Grinning gruesomely and nearing the the big man, he murmurs while pointing at him, "It.." Before adding on, "Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we'll start. You can breathe. You can blink. You can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that." Negan raises his bat, readying himself— then there was the first blow.
I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut, turning away from the scene and cringing at the sound of his skull being smashed into.
"Oh! Look at that! Taking it like a champ!" He shouts in amusement, watching Abraham finds the strength to lift himself up once again.
"Suck.. my.. nuts." As soon as it left Abraham's lips, the bat comes crashing down on his head again— and again, and again, and again, and again, unril his head was nothing but a pile of brain matter.
"Did you hear that?!" Negan pauses, chuckling and exhaling heavily. "He said, 'Suck my nuts.' Phew." He continues laughing before smashing his head in more.
His bat didn't make the same sound anymore, it was hitting the ground underneath his mangled skull. Over and over. Another laugh left his lips after he was done with his murdering.
"Oh, my goodness! Look at this!" Negan whips his bat, splashing blood across a couple of our faces, mostly Rick. "You guys, look at my dirty girl!" He huffs, smiling while approaching the one who was knelled beside Abraham.. Rosita. "Lay your eyes on this. Oh, damn." He mutters after catching the look in her eyes. "Were you.. Were you together? That sucks." He shrugs at her. "But if you were, you should know.. there was a reason for all this. Red— and hell, he was, is, and will ever be Red. He just took one or six or seven for the team! So take... a damn look."
She doesn't. Rosita continues to cry, shivering and quivering at the scene she has been forced to watch.
"Take a damn look!" He screams and just as he does, Daryl jumped up from his spot and socks him in the face— reaching for him again, but a couple Saviors rushed forward and pulled him down.
"Daryl!" Rick shouts, trying to get him to stop struggling.
"NO! Oh, no. That? Oh, my!" He breathes and shakes his head. "That... is a no-no. The whole thing— not one bit of that shit flies here." One of the Saviors men approaches them, pointing Daryl's own weapon at his head.
"Do you want me to do it?" The man questions, keeping his eyes locked on Daryl. "Right here."
Negan grips Daryl by the hair, pulling his head back and getting a good look at him. "No... No, you don't kill them.. not until you try a little." I sigh when the man drops the weapon, grabbing Daryl and dragging him back to his spot; with help. "And anyway.." Negan stands up. "..that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people— first one's free, then— what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions."
I could hear my heart beating through my ears, anticipating— waiting for who was next. Tears form in my eyes, fear slowly creeping along my spine.
"Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with.. but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important.. I need you to know me. So.." He pauses, holding and raising the bat up. ".. back to it."
I gasp harshly, sobbing silently, and clawing at the fabric of my pants; I flinch back, the sound of my fathers deathly bat cracking onto Glenn's head forces more tears to form in my eyes. The beating of my heart grew louder, matching the blows being met with his head. The next crack pushes me, I shuffle.. slowly crawling forward with a burning throat.
"NO!" Maggie's scream is heavy, much like the bile rising within my throat.
Glenn sits up, groaning and moaning in agony; the sight of him makes me sob harsher. His eye popped out of his socket and the blood pouring from his extreme wound slipped down his face.
"Glenn." I whisper weakly, continuing to crawl.
"EUGH. UGH." Glenn groans, lips quivering as if he was trying to speak.
Negan leans in close, asking him, "Buddy, you still there?" Over all of his groaning and gasping, Negan continues to talk. "I just don't know. It seems like you're trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out, and it is gross as shit!"
"Maggie.. I will find you." Glenn groans after sputtering and stumbling over his words; and when his eyes move, shifting to me, I shut my eyes and wait for him to speak again.. but he kept choking over his words. "Ke— Ken.. K.. Ke.."
"Oh.." Negan sighs, turning away from Glenn and facing Maggie. "I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry."
"Ken.. I— I love—"
"I truly am. But I did say it. No exceptions!"
"I— I love y—"
Before he could finish his last words to me, the bat came hurling his way again, knocking him to the ground.
"NO! GLENN—" I stand and attempt to rush forward, but I was shoved onto the ground; a knee stabbing roughly into my back, painfully crushing my spine. "GLENN— PLEASE!" I screech tearfully, digging my fingers into the ground. The oxygen flowing in and out of me stops, the knee in my back pushing me lower and lower until my chest begins scaring from the sharpness of the rocks beneath me. I can only watch, hoping to catch a breath at some point— but it was useless.
Again and again, and again, and again, Negan slams his bat into Glenn's brain until there was nothing left— even then, Negan continues. And I was forced to watch all of it.
The tears were a continuous flow of hot liquid, gradually boiling over the fringe of my eyelids before stumbling pass and streaming down my cheeks. Listening to the sound of Glenn being beaten into a pile of nothingness brings more tears; the thumping of Lucille, the grunting of my dad, and the clear view of Glenn's lifeless, soulless, dead, mutilated body, is pure torture.
"You bunch of pussies. I'm just getting started." Negan mutters, nonstop smashing his bat onto his body; huffing heavily groaning, sniffling as well— the cold wind was finally getting to him. "Lucille is thirsty.. She is a vampire bat!" The sound of his laughter booming over the sound
of our cries pushed fear into us; and finally he left Glenn's body alone. "What?" He faces us, faking confused, releasing an breathy chuckle. "Was the joke that bad?"
I kneel, motionlessly, unmoving— because of shock— while staring ahead blankly and void of emotion. I felt nothing, no sadness, nor any feeling of loss or heartbreak; I am dead inside and out. The droning noise of the van heading back clawed at my deaf ears, and still I refuse to move an inch. Not when the vehicle is shut off, not when the door's thrown open, and not when the sound of certain leader being pulled around like a dog reached me. I didn't move a muscle.
"Here we are." The sound of my father's voice makes my eye twitch angrily. "Let me ask you something, Rick, do you even know what that little trip was about?" He speaks again, telling Rick to, "Speak when you're spoken to." Rick nods, stumbling.
"Okay.. Okay." Rick sniffles and murmurs.
"That trip was about the way that you looked at me.. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand." He explained with narrowed eyes, using his killer bat to point at Rick. "But you're still looking at me the same damn way." Negan smirks as Rick turns away. "Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work.. so, do I give you another chance?" He drops down and looking at Rick in question, waiting for his answer.
"Yeah." Rick hesitates to answer. "Yes! Yes."
"Okay." Negan says, standing up after slapping Rick's shoulder. "Alright... And here it is— the grand-prize game." He announced. "What you do next will decide whether your crap day will become everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads— her, too." He points at me with a wink. "She doesn't listen well enough."
A number of Saviors approach us, loading and cocking their guns before aiming them at each of us.
"Good." Negan hums. "Now... level them with their noses, so if you have to fire.. BOUGGH!" He says, imitating an explosion. "It'll be a real mess."
A scowl stretches across my face when my dad makes eye contact with me, looking me over in quickness before slowly diverting onto the boy kneeling next to me. The look in his eyes when staring at the Grimes boy, is disgusting; he was planning to do something I wouldn't be able to stomach.
"Kid." Negan mutters, looking directly at Carl, raising his hand and gesturing for him to come here. "Right here." He points down to his boot.
"No." I mutter on the verge of tears, tightening the hold on his hand. "No.. no, please."
"Bug." Negan calls, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head at me. "Kid.. now."
"Dad." I whimper, yanking my boyfriend down after he tries standing up. "Carl—"
"It's okay." He murmurs while placing another hand over the one gripping his tightly, looking me in the eyes sweetly. "It's okay." He tells me again, grabbing my hand and slowly guiding it out of his. As he stands, approaching Negan in hesitation, I watch him and release a quivering breath.
Negan reaches across himself and yanks out an old belt made of leather. "You a southpaw?" He asks Carl, who tilts his head in confusion.
"Am I a what..?" Carl asks him back.
"You a lefty?" Negan steps closer as Carl gives him an answer.
"No." The attitude the teenage boy had doesn't falter, not one bit, he used the exact same tone he has with everyone he doesn't like.
"Good." He says, reaching forward to wrap the belt around Carl's left arm. "That hurt?"
"No." Carl responds, maintaining eye contact.
"Should." Negan tells him, continuing with the belt, quickly glancing over his shoulder to look at me. "It's supposed to. Alright." He lets go of Carl and steps away. "Get down on the ground, kid, next to Daddy. Spread them wings." As he says this, he takes Carl's hat and throws it over his own shoulder.
Carl lowers to the ground, kneeling then laying flat with the push of Negan's hand.
"Simon.." Negan calls. ".. you gotta pen?"
"Yeah." His right-hand man answers, nodding before digging into his front pocket, grabbing one and throwing it to Negan— who caught it.
Negan bites down onto the top of the pen and opens it with his mouth before kneeling down, pulling up Carl's sleeve and marking him with it. "Sorry, kid." Negan apologizes worthlessly, groaning from kneeling down. "This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across the forearm. There you go. Gives you a little leverage."
"Please.. Please.. Please don't." Rick begs him pathetically, shaking his head. "Please don't."
"Me?" Negan questions with a smile, laughing breathily. "I ain't doing shit... Ahh." He groans, standing again. "Rick, I want you to take your ax.. cut your son's left arm off—" He tells him. "—right on that line. Now, I know.. I know." I gasp before lowering my head. "You're gonna have to process that for a second.. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then, Carl dies, then the people back home die.. and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it." He taunts.
"You— You don't have to do this." Michonne says tearful, shaking her head. "We understand. We understand."
"You understand." Negan says before she could say another word. "Yeah. I'm not sure that Rick does. I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line." Negan gives his attention back to the situation at hand, one he created. "Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice— nothing messy, clean, forty-five degrees—" I continue looking at down, unable to watch anymore of my dad's torture. "—give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Rick..." Negan whispers, bending down to his level once again when the man did nothing he asked for. "..this needs to happen now— chop, chop— or... I will crush this little fella's skull myself."
More tears swim down my cheeks, a sob being stuck in the middle of my throat to stop myself from making a sound. I was overwhelmed with emotion; and with the threat my father made to Rick, I could hear the distant sound of Negan's bat crushing over his skull over and over again.
It's endless.
"It can— It can— It can be me. I can be me." I have never, not in the several years being with him, heard Rick sound so useless and weak. It broke me into a million pieces just listening to him. "W-W—" Rick stumbles pitifully. "Y-You can do it to me. I c.. I can go with— with you."
"No." Negan tells Rick, standing. "This is the only way. Rick.. pick up the ax. Not making a decision is a BIG decision. You really wanna see all this people die. You will.. You will see every ugly thing. Oh, my God. Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick— you win. I am counting. THREE!"
"PLEASE." Rick sobs, begging him. "Please." He gasps and chokes over his tears. "It can be me. "Please!"
"TWO!" Negan continues counting.
"Please, don't do—"
I sob quietly, my shoulders trembling from the force of my tears; my mouth is wide open with my jaw touching the ground, tears and slobber wetting the gravel under me. I couldn't breathe. I need to breathe.
"This is it." Negan says.
"AAAH!" I squeeze my eyes shut, listening to the sound of a father sobbing and greiving for what he has not lost yet.
"ONE!" Negan had finished his counting and, still, Rick hadn't done it— at least not yet— I take a quick glimpse at the scene ahead of me when the suspense became too much. Raising the ax, Rick pants while scream-sobbing; and watching anyrhing else happen, I lowered my head again. "Rick..." Negan calls for the man, stopping him from chopping off his son's arm. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me.. right?" He nods. "Speak when you're spoken to!" Negan yells. "You answer to me! You provide for me!"
"Provide for you." Rick mutters weakly.
"YOU BELONG TO ME, RIGHT?!"
"Right."
"Right. That.. is the look I wanted to see." He says, bending down and snatching away Rick's ax. "We did it... all of us, together..." He points around at all of us. "even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for
sure. Today was a PRODUCTIVE damn day!" He pauses. "Now, I hope, for all your sakes... that you get it now.. that you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you.. that is over now." He chuckles at our misery. "Ah, Dwight!" Negan points his bat at Daryl. "Load him up. And of course— one of you— grab my daughter, too."
"No." I mumble, looking up to lock eyes with Carl— who was still flat on the ground. "Dad. No."
"Shh. It's all gonna be okay."
Arms wrap around my body, causing a scream to leave my lips. I fought them, grabbing their arms and trying to push them off me, but they were much, much stronger than me; dragging me across the ground, toward the van, against my will.
"No.." I mutter, flailing around. "No, no, no." I began to cry, turning my neck so my eyes lock with his. "CARL?! CARL!" I scream, sobbing in this random man's arms.
The sound of my cries drown out, fading into a nothingness when I am thrown into the van and when the doors are slammed closed in both our faces. The silence between us is deafening; my knees curling toward my chest as I cry silently.
"Are you alright, Brat?" Daryl whispers to me and I ignore him, scrunching my face in anger. "Hey, Brat."
"It's your fault." I hiss at him while narrowing my eyes. "Glenn is dead because of you— you let your anger take control of you and Negan.. Negan killed him because.." I choke, staring at him in full-on rage. "..because you.. I love you, okay, Daryl? But, please stop talking to me... I can't— I can't talk to you right now." I cry out, turning away from him and leaning against the wall of the van.
eat, sleep, work-out, work— every single damn day. i want friendssss! i have no friends! i want to hang out with someone and do something!! like damn, life is kind of boring.
enjoy the story guys, comment & vote!!
also, i could lose some readers because of this but FREE PALESTINE! FREE CONGO! FREE SUNDAN! FREE HAWAII! FREE YEMEN!! I BELIEVE EVERYONE DESERVES HUMAN RIGHTS! america, canada, the uk, and israel are complicit in genocides & many atrocities AROUND THE WORLD. i will NEVER NOT speak about this. i will NEVER give up on the freedom of all people. everyone should be free and if not, none of us are.