Love's Conquer

Hostiles And Calamities

Flames from the furnace crackled away, awaiting the flesh they would be manipulated to burn. The warehouse was almost silent, so still you would hear any muffled whimper or cry, but nobody dared to. That didn't take away from how much everyones minds were racing, wondering in panic as to why our leader had ordered us all here. He wanted his grand entrance, with an audience to match, which could only ever mean one thing. I, of course, knew exactly why we were all here.

Hell, I was to blame for it.

I watched Amber barely keep herself upright, consumed with alcohol to numb the pain, as Frankie weaved her arm around her back for support. My brothers wives were good, kind women, all of whom deserved better, but were forced to submit to him or suffer the consequences. A similar lifestyle I had endured throughout my childhood. The Saviors each began to kneel, causing my head to whip back around to find Negan taking large strides into the open space, with Lucille resting on his shoulder. I placed a hand on my knee and knelt, honouring my brother the way he so desired. He paced before turning to the fire, and like the wings of a Phoenix, his arms gracefully rose, signalling for us to rise with him.

"You are gonna want to pay close attention to this." Negan aimed his bat up at Eugene, who was stood with Laura on the iron staircase behind us.

"Ugh—"

Negan had swung Lucille into Dr. Carson's side, to my own confusion.

"No- no- no—" Dr. Carson, the Hilltop Doctor's older brother, whimpered out in pain. "Why? I haven't done anything."

"I found this little souvenir tucked away in your desk." Negan took out a small piece of paper that read, 'goodbye honey'.

"I- I don't know what that is." Dr. Carson admitted honestly, not that Negan believed him.

My brother jabbed Lucille into the Doctor's knee, and then his gut, worsening the impact each time.

"You knew Sherry hated bein' here, hated the- uh- brutality... shall we say. So you helped her leave- hell, I'm surprised as fuck that you didn't go with her, havin' such a big crush an all." Negan taunted.

"But I didn't..."

And he wasn't wrong. He didn't.

In fact, he had absolutely nothing to do with it, as much as he may have wanted to. Within hours of me being here, I got to know as many people as I could, my brothers wives included. I wasn't sure how to acknowledge Sherry and Dwight after the shit they put Daryl through, but I had a role to play and I had to play it well. The women forced to subdue to my brother were desperate for a way out, and I, knowing exactly what the consequence would be, wanted to help. The plan was to get the four of them out together, but like most plans, it fell through. Sherry was the only one that managed to escape.

"See, Sherry told Dwighty boy the whole story right before she was torn apart." Negan scowled, his words sending a shockwave through me.

I took my eyes to Dwight, watching him intensely as he stood beside the furnace, waiting for the iron to reach its fiery peak. I knew the truth and I knew she was no doubt alive; Sherry believed the Dwight she loved was gone, she thought he was Negan. After everything he had done, I couldn't reassure her any differently. But it was never about my brother... it had always been about love. Dwight killed for love, he tortured for love, played the role of a villain for love; everything he did was to keep the most precious thing to him alive. So, he lied for love. He weaved a story, and it worked... but now an innocent was paying the price.

Not that I could judge. I was doing the exact same thing. Killing... torturing... and playing the part, all for love. My family will always mean everything to me, but greater than that, the state of the human race depended on what we do here. Every move we make will shape our future. It was just left to everyone to choose how they wanted to live. For me, it was simple. As it always had been. I cannot deny the chance for vengeance against my brother, for those he took from us and the pain he caused, is not a sweetener to everything I was doing here, because it was. I wanted blood for what he did, and I would not rest until it trickled from his bare neck.