Bitter Murmur | Abby Anderson x Male Reader

Chapter 5

Finally, she could take it no longer. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice echoing in the vast, empty space.

Y/N stopped, his eyes scanning the darkness ahead. "Someplace safe," he said, his tone cryptic. "Somewhere I know they won't find us."

Abby leaned against the wet brick, her legs trembling with fatigue. "How much farther?" she whispered, her voice echoing through the emptiness.

Y/N paused, his gaze flicking to her. He could see the exhaustion etched into her features, the way she held herself. He knew that she was used to the hardships of this world, but everyone had their limits. "Not much," he assured her, though the truth was, he wasn't entirely certain. "There's an old theater up ahead. It's a safe place to rest for the night."

Abby nodded, too tired to argue. They moved on, the silence of the sewers stretching out around them. The echo of their footsteps was the only sound in the vast, empty space. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of place this theater was. Was it a sanctuary, a place where he could truly be himself? Or was it just another temporary refuge, a place to hide from the horrors of the world above?

Their journey through the tunnels was interrupted by the sudden groan of a pack of walkers up ahead. The sound was muffled by the water, but unmistakable. Abby's hand went to her knife, her instincts screaming at her to fight or flee. But Y/N's grip on her arm stopped her.

"Wait," he murmured, his eyes on the shuffling figures in the dim light. "Let's not make any noise."

Abby's hand hovered over her knife, adrenaline spiking in her veins. "But we have to-"

Y/N's grip tightened, a silent order. His voice was calm, his breath steady. "Just... wait."

Abby's eyes widened as the shambling figures grew closer, their decaying forms illuminated by the flickering light of a distant exit. She had faced countless walkers before, but something about the way Y/N held his ground, his eyes fixed on the approaching danger, made her hesitate.

"You should go," she murmured, her hand sliding to her knife. "They won't bother you."

Y/N's gaze remained on the walkers, his jaw clenched. "That's not entirely true," he said, his voice tight. "Whisperers can control them, but we're not immune."

Abby's eyes searched his, the doubt clear. "But you've never been bitten," she murmured, her voice low.

Y/N nodded slowly. "No," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm invincible."

Abby's grip on her knife tightened as the walkers shuffled closer, their moans echoing through the dank tunnel. "But they're not after you," she said, her voice strained. "You can just... talk to them."

Y/N nodded, his eyes never leaving the undead. "That's the idea," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "But it doesn't mean they won't attack me."

Abby stared at him, the reality of his words sinking in. "But you can... you know, whisper to them," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

Y/N nodded, his gaze unwavering on the approaching horde. "They're drawn to the living," he murmured. "I can usually keep them at bay, but if they catch my scent..." He trailed off, his eyes meeting hers. "You need to go. I'll lead them away."

Abby's heart skipped a beat. "No," she said firmly. "We'll fight them together."

Y/N's eyes searched hers, a mix of surprise and admiration in his gaze. "They're not the enemy," he murmured, his voice steady. "They're just lost."

Abby stared at him, her grip on her knife unwavering. "They're a threat," she said, her voice firm. "We can't just let them come at us."

Y/N's expression was solemn. "Trust me," he murmured, his voice low and calm. "This is what I do."

Abby's eyes searched his, looking for any hint of doubt or deceit. But all she saw was a man who had survived by being one with the very things that terrified her. With a deep breath, she nodded, releasing her knife.

Y/N approached the walkers, his steps slow and deliberate. He whispered something in a tone so low and soothing that even the most hardened of hearts would have stilled. The shuffling of the undead grew quieter as they turned towards him, their decaying forms pausing in their pursuit. For a moment, their dead eyes seemed to find a semblance of life as they locked onto his.

Abby watched, her heart in her throat, as he stepped closer, his voice a gentle hum in the damp air. It was as if he was speaking a language that the rest of the world had forgotten. The walkers swayed slightly, their arms dropping to their sides, no longer reaching out for the warmth of living flesh.

The first one turned, the rotting fabric of its clothes flapping around its skeletal frame. It took a halting step in his direction, the glow of the exit sign reflecting in its vacant eyes. Y/N held out a hand, palm up, and the creature paused, tilting its head as if trying to understand the silent command.

Abby's hand hovered over her bow, every instinct telling her to shoot. But she held her fire, her gaze locked on Y/N. He nodded at her, his eyes never leaving the walker. It was a silent signal that sent a shiver down her spine. He wanted her to pass him, to leave him here with these monsters.

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she took a step back, her eyes never leaving the creature that had paused before him. It was grotesque, a twisted mockery of the life that once animated it. But as Y/N whispered to it, something almost human flickered in its gaze.

With a silent nod, she backed away, her bowstring taut and ready. The walker took another step closer to him, drawn in by his voice, the promise of something it hadn't felt in a lifetime—peace. The others followed, a macabre parade of decay that parted around him like a river around a rock.

Abby's heart was a drum in her chest as she slipped past, her eyes locked on Y/N's calm face. His hand hovered just above their heads, a gentle guide that kept them at bay. As she moved away, she could feel their hunger, a palpable presence in the stale air, but they ignored her, their attention focused solely on him.