the killing of a sacred deer - carl grimes

XV

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xv.

always
"we both know that i'm not what you need"

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l u c y .

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I am a Judas.

I am a Judas.

I.

Am.

A.

Judas.

The betraying kiss of death. The press of my chapped lips against my victim's warm, freckled cheek.

I am a Judas.

When he pulled back, eye full of awe and pain. And, kill me now, that boy loved me. Loved me.

And I'm going to die and go to Hell and rot for it.

I realize now the truth. I am a mouthpiece. My decisions are never my own. I am not in control. My hand is forced.

I stand here, knowing that.

My voice echoes against the surface of the serrated metal fence.

"So, let's just cut through this cow shit-" I hate myself. "-You lose. It's over. You're gonna line up in front of your little houses and you're gonna work up some little apologies and the douchebag with the lamest one is gonna get killed. And then I'm gonna kill Rick in front of everyone. Y'all have three minutes-Start counting now, three minutes-to open this gate or we go apeshit and bomb the crap out of you."

The men around me start whistling. I feel the energy radiating off of them, the ballistic urge to strike just wound up taut. They're like a giant rubber band ready to snap fast and hard.

There's no sound behind the fence, though I know very well I've been heard if there truly was anyone still inside.

I check my watch.

"Two minutes." I call out. Nothing. I can only hope  they've already left, like they were supposed to, like I warned Carl. I swallow hard around the lump in my throat and hide behind the mask of Negan because it's all I've ever known. "Dig deep. I want these apologies to be memorable. Bonus points for creativity. Work up a poem, sing a song. I love that shit. Get going."

This earns me a couple of chuckles from the imbeciles around me and I want to vomit, I want to die. I wish somebody would just get it over with and kill me already.

"One minute-" I hear the sounds of footsteps and hands on a rickety metal ladder, someone is climbing up to the catwalk. I tense. Who is this? Did they not leave? "There we go, you know, I didn't want it to come to this. I would much rather be tucked into bed at home right now. Fuzzy slippers on, I Love Lucy reruns playing, painting my nails. But y'all wanted to order off menu, and I'm sorry it sucks, now I've gotta serve you shit."

The sound suddenly stops. No one appears.

"Hello? Rick, come on, buddy. I just wanna have a chat. Let's talk about this-God, he's such a little pussy... Rick-?"