Up The Wolves | Negan

Chapter Three: Who Can Say?

"Please, don't make me do this, John," I pleaded, knife held out in front of me for protection from the man who was much bigger than me. John had been the one to find Dad and I when we were at our lowest; he wasn't always the monster he had become. While we were together in a group, we watched him lose his wife and son to a herd of walkers, and it was like something snapped in his brain that day. Ever since he hadn't been the same, everybody could tell. He let out a deep, dark chuckle.

"Don't worry, Lou. I'll make sure it's quick," he said in what I would've thought was a reassuring tone if I didn't have the context. Looking around at all the bloodied bodies around us, some of them were still being ripped into by living humans—not walkers, humans. The sound of flesh squelching was all that I could hear around us as I backed away from the scene.

Dad had left sometime before I'd fallen asleep to hunt for something to eat, but I didn't see his body around which told me he was hopefully still out there. I woke up when the first one of our group was killed, it was a woman named Mary who was almost like a group leader. Her scream as the knife plunged into her startled me and the rest of the sleeping camp awake only to instantly be slaughtered.

All of them. Dead. All except the few who turned on them and killed them. I could even spot my newfound friend, Owen, ripping into the body of one of our group members.

"John, I know there has to be a part of you still in there who knows this is wrong," I tried to get through to him.

"Don't you see? I'm saving you! I'm saving all of them! I'm sparing you the same fate as Jan—as-as Cooper! You don't have to be afraid anymore," he said like he actually believed the words he was speaking, pain in his eyes.

"This wasn't your choice to make!" I argued, "Anyone who didn't want to live this way has already made their choice, we wanted to live!" I pleaded, tears pricking my eyes. We'd only been together a few months—I was still young, still just a kid, "I don't want to die, John," I begged.

"You're not gonna die, Lou. You'll be reborn," he expressed, stepping closer. We were about out of the dim light of the campfire by now, heading into the deep of the woods. Tears began to stream down my face as I looked around for an escape, but I needed Dad. I couldn't do this without him, or else I might as well be dead, "Just come here," he said, stepping directly out of the light now. The only thing I could see was the glint of his knife as well as my own, "Come here!" He growled, sprinting toward me.

But I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him—I couldn't kill someone. I was going to die at the hands of a crazy confused man.

"Get away from her!" I heard a familiar guttural growl as my dad leaped out of the shadows, just before John could jam the weapon straight into my chest. My dad's machete clanged as it hit the metal of John's knife, knocking it out of his hand. The man didn't have a moment to reply before I heard the slice and watched his throat begin to gush deep red liquid. Blood wasn't an uncommon sight anymore, but it was always a different feeling when it was coming from your friends.

John's body dropped to his knees as he choked on his own slit throat, looking from me to my dad before he collapsed completely. My dad turned to me, grabbing my arm.

"Quiet, let's go," he whispered, pulling me into the woods. I saw that he had a bag full of what I assumed was what he had found on his hunt, but the rest of all our stuff, sans the small bag I held over my shoulder, was around the campfire. Still, there was no way I'd be going back to get it.

"Dad," I cried, holding him tight as we hastily made our way away from the group.

"I know, sweetheart," he whispered, kissing the top of my head, "We have to be strong now. Just you and me," he added and I nodded. After that, I didn't want to trust anyone else again. I couldn't...