Survivor - TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 13 - This Sorrowful Life

Nelly

Somethings wrong.

The next day is eerily quiet-too quiet. Rick hasn't said a word about a plan of attack, and that alone has me on edge. Instead of rallying us, he's been withdrawn, his voice low whenever he does speak, avoiding both me and Michonne like we're ghosts. It's unsettling, and the unease gnaws at me as I pace the catwalk, eyes scanning the courtyard below.

My attention zeroes in on Rick, who's huddled in a corner with Hershel and Daryl. They're talking in hushed whispers, too far for me to hear, but close enough for my instincts to flare up. Something's wrong-I can feel it in the way they keep glancing around, in the way Rick's shoulders are hunched like he's carrying the weight of a decision he doesn't want to make. My gut is screaming at me that he's hiding something.

But what?

I slow my steps, watching them closely. What could he be planning that he doesn't want us to know about? I let out an annoyed sigh, trying to piece it together. What could the Governor have asked for that Rick can't even bring himself to say out loud?

The prison? No, if that were the case, we'd already be packing our bags.

Merle? I doubt it-he wouldn't be discussing that with Daryl, not like this.

Then it hits me like a punch to the gut. I stop dead in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat. I know exactly what Rick is planning, and the realization makes my stomach churn with rage. My eyes narrow, and my lip curls in anger as I grip the cold metal of the fence, my knuckles turning white. My mind races, flooding with memories-being chained up, the sharp sting of knives carving into my skin, the hopelessness that followed.

Rick is going to give him Michonne.

My breath quickens, and I can feel the fury boiling inside me, threatening to spill over. The images of what the Governor could do to her flash through my mind-what he will do to her. Torture, mutilation, and worse. I've lived through it, and I can't let it happen to her.

I have to stop him.

I charge down the steps, each stride fueled by the storm brewing in my chest. But by the time I reach the courtyard, the group is already dispersing. Hershel is the first to walk past me, his face etched with guilt. I stare him down, my eyes burning with disbelief and anger. How could he agree to this? He meets my gaze for a fleeting second before lowering his head and hurrying inside.

Coward.

Daryl follows, giving me a brief look before he too retreats into the prison. I want to slap him-how could he let this happen? But I hold my rage in check, waiting for the one man I need to confront.

Rick tries to brush past me, but my words stop him cold. "You're not doing it." He freezes, his back to me, and I can see the tension in his shoulders, the weight of his betrayal.

Slowly, he turns to face me, his expression guarded. But I already know the truth. I step in front of him, forcing him to meet my eyes.

"You can't be serious," I hiss, shaking my head in disbelief. Anger thrums through my veins, and I can barely keep my voice steady.

Rick avoids my gaze, looking anywhere but at me, his face a mask of denial. "I don't know what you're talking about-"

I cut him off, stepping closer until we're almost nose to nose. "Screw what we've done to help you! Do you even know what he's going to do to her?" My voice is tight with fury, my hands trembling as I think of all the horrors she'll face. "He's not gonna kill her. He's just gonna do things to her." My rage has me shaking. "Take both her eyes out. Let her live as long as possible so he can torture her. And then let her turn, and put her body on a pike as an example," I spit, the memories behind my words make me shutter.