The Apocalypse

5

After successfully calming Maeve and bringing her to a state of tranquility, Maurits departed from his house, eager to meet Johnny, who was likely already anticipating his arrival. Johnny's curiosity had been piqued by the rumors circulating in the town, as numerous witnesses had spotted Maurits with the mysterious girl. The sight of Maurits, known for his reserved nature, displaying such tenderness and engaging in conversation with her had become a topic of great intrigue for the townspeople. Johnny, initially skeptical of the rumors, found it difficult to believe until he received confirmation from his closest friend.
Maurits strode through the town, his gaze indifferent to those he passed, until he arrived at Johnny's house and entered without bothering to knock.
"Hello, mate!" Johnny greeted him with a wide smile as he entered the living room. The room was adorned with four naked women, scattered about in various states of repose.
"My beautiful girls, please leave Maurits and me alone," Johnny instructed the women. Obediently, they departed, leaving the two men alone in the room.
"So, are the rumors true? Do we have a new girl in town?" Johnny inquired, fastening his pants with a mischievous grin.
Maurits grunted in affirmation, his possessiveness evident. "One for all?" Johnny probed, attempting to provoke a reaction.
"Fuck no. She is mine," Maurits growled in response, his voice tinged with a fierce determination.
Johnny nodded, his smirk unwavering. "I'll arrange an ID for her and see if there's a job for her," he suggested, testing the waters.
"No! No jobs. She is not working!" Maurits immediately rejected the notion, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"Okay, no job," Johnny acquiesced, raising his hands in surrender, his playful demeanor intact.
"She will stay with me, and if anyone dares to lay a hand on her, I want them fed to the walkers at our wall! Spread the word that she is mine," Maurits declared, his possessive instinct reaching its apex.
With that, Maurits turned and left, leaving his best friend behind. "Nice seeing you too!" Johnny called after him with a wave, though he knew Maurits had already vanished into the distance. "Girls," he called back to the departed women, signaling for their attention once more.
As the living room settled into silence, Johnny couldn't help but ponder the gravity of Maurits' words. He knew better than to challenge his friend's possessiveness and understood the lengths to which he would go to protect what he considered his own.
-
"Maeve, darling, the group always eats together on Mondays! You have to attend to fit in," urged Maurits, his voice tinged with insistence. He wanted her belong in the group as quick as possible, because that meant she could be more comfortable. Maeve shook her head, her resolve firm. She didn't want to leave the comfort of her new home; she was settled and content, preferring the solace of solitude.
Undeterred, Maurits grasped Maeve's hand, tugging her along with him. She resisted, attempting to free her hand from his tight hold, but he only tightened his grip, determined to bring her to the bonfire where everyone was gathered. Reluctantly, Maeve relented, allowing herself to be led, her footsteps heavy with reluctance.
As they reached the bonfire, Maurits directed her to sit down. His commanding tone left Maeve with no choice but to silently obey, taking a seat next to Sophie and Catherine quickly came to sit next to her. Before she could exchange any words with Catherine, Maurits swiftly intervened, grabbing Catherine's arm with a forceful grip, his eyes cold and unwavering.
"Upset her, and you're dead," he coldly warned Catherine, his voice cutting through the air. With his point made, Maurits left to procure some food, leaving Maeve feeling both guarded and unsettled in his absence.
Catherine, undeterred by the threat, approached Maeve with a warm smile. "Hey Maeve." Maeve glanced at her but remained tight-lipped. Sensing Maeve's hesitation, Sophie spoke up, her concern evident.
"Do you want some food?" Sophie offered kindly. Maeve whispered a soft "no," shaking her head, her reluctance palpable. She swallowed hard, acutely aware of the piercing gazes fixed upon them.
"It will stop, the stares. I promise," Sophie reassured, her desire to reach out and comfort Maeve evident in her gaze. However, she thought better of it, refraining from making physical contact.
Returning with two plates, Maurits approached Maeve, his expression expectant. Maeve met his gaze she reluctantly accepted the plate from him, before pushing it back towards him. Maurits raised an eyebrow, daring her to disobey to not take the plate. his silent challenge echoing in the air. Maeve swallowed, her apprehension evident, and brought the plate back toward herself.
"Up!" Maurits commanded abruptly. Catherine and Sophie exchanged concerned glances, their brows furrowing in confusion. With a racing heart, Maeve complied, standing up, her mind racing with thoughts of what she might have done wrong. Maurits calmly settled into her vacated seat, placing his plate on a small plastic table, before pulling Maeve onto his lap.
As the scene unfolded, more eyes turned towards them—an unusual sight of the seemingly cold-hearted Maurits with a vulnerable girl seated on his lap. Such a display had never occurred before, capturing the attention of the group. Maurits surveyed the onlookers, his eyes lingering on each one, his gaze piercing and menacing. One by one, those who had glanced their way quickly averted their eyes, unwilling to bear the intensity of his stare.
Gently setting aside her plate, Maurits wrapped his arm around Maeve's waist, drawing her closer to him. "Be a good girl and eat," he whispered into her ear, his words intended only for her to hear. Maeve turned her gaze toward the side of his face, her eyes silently communicating a mix of vulnerability and defiance. Maurits took a bite of his own food before offering a spoonful to Maeve, holding it before her mouth. Reluctantly, she accepted the bite, rewarded with a tender kiss on her neck.
"Who taught you how to shoot a bow and arrow, Maeve?" Sophie inquired with genuine curiosity. Maeve gazed at Sophie, her mind grappling to recall the right words. The past four years of isolation had taken their toll on her ability to communicate verbally, even before then she was never particularly quick-witted with her speech.
Before Maeve could respond, Catherine, sensing Maeve's struggle, attempted to interject and answer on her behalf. "Her br-" Yet, Maeve swiftly interrupted her. "My brother did!"annoyance evident in her tone. She disliked others finishing her sentences, a frustration she had endured even during her time at the orphanage. It wasn't a matter of intelligence; she simply needed some time to express herself in her own way.
Maurits gently rubbed her sides, silently acknowledging her irritation.