RIDE OR DIE | DARYL DIXON

loss

NIGHTFALL came quicker than expected.

Randall's fate had been decided, and it was coming to an end that night. Just as Dale suspected, the rest of the group hung back in their tents while Rick, Shane, Daryl and Willow gathered at the barn to carry out the deed.

"You don't gotta be in here." Daryl stopped in front of the barn doors, blocking Willow from entering.

"I want to make sure it's done." She said quietly, looking down at her feet.

Daryl didn't budge for a moment, but he could tell that she needed to see it. He nodded, stepping to the side to let her in.

She entered the barn slowly. It was dim and eerie, more than usual. She had been expecting her nose to burn at the horrible smell, but it was almost as if she had gotten used to it.

Rick set down the lantern he had been carrying, illuminating only small portions of the barn. "Put him there." He pointed at the dirty floor in the center of the barn.

Shane grabbed Randall brutally by his shirt, dragging him over to the spot. "It's all gonna be over soon." Shane said to the man, tying a blindfold tight over his eyes.

"What?" Randall's voice was trembling as his vision was blocked. "What's gonna be over soon?"

Willow looked over to Daryl who was next to her. "He doesn't know?" She said in a hushed voice.

Daryl shook his head.

Rick took the Python from his holster and checked the chamber, ensuring there was at least a couple bullets there incase something went wrong. Randall cried as he heard the metal clanking of Rick's gun, knowing exactly what it meant for him.

"Would you like to stand or kneel?" Rick asked Randall, holding his gun steady in his hands.

"No, no, no." Randall pleaded.

Daryl stepped over to Randall, pushing him down to his knees, earning more sobs from him.

Willow leaned against a wooden pillar that kept the barn sturdy, watching Randall closely. In the world that came before this one, she never agreed with capital punishment. But that was before. Before, criminals would die by the hands of the law. She could only think of now. Now, criminals must die by the hands of others. Now, she wouldn't waver at a man being put to death. Now, she wouldn't look away from the punishment. Now, she doesn't feel anything.

"Do you have any final words?" Rick asked the man, looking down at him cowering away.

Randall continued to sob, his posture slumping. "No, please. Please don't!"

"Wait." Willow spoke up, the three men looking at her strangely. She walked over to Rick's side, grabbing the end of his gun. "I'll do it."

"Willow-" Shane began, but she shot him a look and he shut up real quick.

"You don't understand." She eyed Rick intently. "But I need to do this."

Rick continued to hold his gun tightly, unsure of handing it over to her.

"Let her." Daryl instructed.

Rick and Daryl exchanged looks before he finally released his gun and handed it over to Willow.

Somehow it felt heavier now than it normally would. She's fired off many guns in her lifetime, but this felt different. It felt powerful.

She felt powerful.

Rick stepped to the side, allowing Willow to stand in front of Randall now. She looked down at him, cringing at his patheticness. For a man who was involved with gangs and other criminals, it was surprising to see how pitiful he really was. She held the weight of the gun up, the end of it just a few centimeters away from Randall's forehead. She held it there for a moment, admiring her view and how strange yet commanding it felt. Her finger glided along the trigger, about to pull it, but she stopped at a little boys voice.