» Time Is Dancing « | » Carl Grimes «

» THE WORLD BEFORE PT.1 «

Agony Is An Endless, Renewable Energy Source

Harsh, terrified gasps ripped my raw throat like claws, dragging down with each sob. The screams were like salt to the wound, stabbing pain into my chest and stomach as I tried to muffle the noise. The back of my hand was wet against my trembling lips, tears mixing with spit and blood from where I bit too hard into my cheek.

It wasn't unusual to see the infirmary light on this late at night, but the top floor commonly remained in darkness. Especially now, since there were no patients up there to treat. I couldn't see anyone in the lit-up window, making my concerns even deeper. If Siddiq was there instead of here, maybe our conversation today wasn't as progressive as I thought.

There was a strange heaviness in the pit of my stomach when I pushed the door gently open, silence filling the whole building with alertness. The creak of the stairs seemed to echo as I ascended them, squinting my eyes through the darkness at the sight of a shining pool of blood. The weight seemed to increase as I stepped past it, Dante lying unconscious in the middle as it soaked into his doctors uniform. I always thought it was weird he wore the white coat, like he was putting on an appearance. Like he needed to prove who he was.

"Rosita?" I recognised the shuddering breaths from the next room, but I wished I didn't. The only time I could recall hearing them was years ago, the night that Negan-

"Don't come in here!" She suddenly yelled, an urgent shuffling following her order. I ignored the direct words, being drawn curiously to her panic. The only light was coming from where she was, so maybe she could provide an explanation.

I reached the door with a particular hesitance, something in my mind pushing me away from entering. "Why?" I whispered with an element of fear, turning the corner right as she reached me. Coco was held tight against her quivering figure, fresh tears splashed on her cheeks and a gleam of terror in her eyes.

"Belle, don't-" She tried to block my view, her efforts made difficult from the baby in her arms. It was futile anyway, because my gaze already drifted over her shoulder.

Blood dribbled along the white bathroom tile, leaking into the cracks and running down the length of the floor. It was a continuous flow from Siddiq's head, his eyes open wide but not seeing a thing. His lips were parted but no air circulated his lungs, the motion stopped altogether.

I buried my face into the pillow, my legs curling up to my chest as I lay on my side. My body was squeezed as small and tight as physically possible, wishing and praying that the smaller I was, the less pain I could feel.

Siddiq dying was like a blade twisting in my gut over and over, cutting up everything inside until it was nothing but a bloody mess. It was something none of us could have ever predicted, let alone at the hands of Dante.

Dante.

The name caused a flare of anger inside me, distracting briefly from the immense sorrow that flooded my veins. The betrayal was something that almost made me sick- this whole time he was playing us, trying to pull us apart from within at the orders of Alpha. Maybe that's why Siddiq never warmed up to him, maybe that's why he was sometimes strange in his ways. He didn't have a complete grasp of human behaviour, he could only ever try to replicate it rather than feel it for himself.

"Mommy?" A quiet, watery voice sounded from the door, the hinges squeaking slightly as it drifted open. Heather crept towards the bed nervously, her bunched up fist burrowing into her eyes to force her tears back. It didn't work no matter how hard she tried, the drops running swiftly down her cheeks. In her hand was a doll, worn and slightly damp from the cries she let out into the fabric.