Bitter Murmur | Abby Anderson x Male Reader

Chapter 16

Abby's eyes flashed, her finger tightening on the trigger of her rifle. "You're not in a position to make demands," she said, her voice low and menacing. "You're a whisperer, Y/N. A freak. If it weren't for me, you'd be dead."

Y/N's chest tightened, the whispers in his head swirling like a tornado of anger and fear. "If you start killing them," he said, his voice trembling, "you're no better than them."

Abby's eyes narrowed, her grip on the rifle unwavering. "If you dare to not follow even one of my command," she hissed. "I'll kill every walker that I see."

Y/N felt the whispers in his head swell with rage at her threat, the echoes of the dead's pain and anger resonating through him. He took a step closer, the gap between them closing like a trap about to snap shut. "You wouldn't," he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

But before he could say another word, Abby swung the butt of her rifle, catching him in the stomach. The impact was like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling onto the dirt floor. The whispers grew louder, a cacophony of fury that seemed to shake the very air around them.

Y/N doubled over, his hands clutching his stomach as he struggled to breathe. The pain was a living thing, a white-hot agony that stole his breath and left him gasping for air. Through the haze of pain, he could see her standing over him, her eyes cold and hard. "I said, we move out at first light," she repeated, her voice like a knife slicing through the silence. "And you will follow me without question."

He looked up at her, the whispers in his head a furious cacophony of anger and resentment. "Fuck you," he whispered, the words barely audible. But she heard them, the softness of the curse like a slap in the face.

Abby's eyes widened, the shock in them a brief respite from the cold anger that had been her constant companion since they'd met. "What did you just say?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

Y/N coughed, the taste of blood in his mouth a grim reminder of their fight. "You heard me," he murmured, his voice tight with pain. "You're not my master."

The whispers grew louder, their fury a living force that seemed to pulse through his veins. He could feel them, the dead all around them, watching and waiting. They were his allies, his family in a way she could never understand. And he would not be used by her, not like this.

Abby's eyes narrowed, the coldness in her gaze fading to something else, something darker. "You dare to speak to me like that?" she hissed, the barrel of her rifle pointing at him like an accusation.

Y/N coughed again, blood staining his teeth. "I dare to speak the truth," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the whispers that roared in his head. "You can't own me, Abby. No one can."

Her eyes searched his, a mix of shock and anger. Then, with a suddenness that took him by surprise, she kicked him in the ribs, the blow sending a white-hot shock of pain through his body. Y/N rolled away, trying to protect himself from the blows that followed, but she was relentless. Each kick was a declaration of power, a statement that she was in charge.

Finally, she grabbed him by the collar, hauling him to his feet. "You will do as I say," she spat, her voice low and deadly. "You will not challenge me."

Y/N's eyes were on fire, the whispers in his head a tornado of rage and pain. He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn't back down. Not now, not with her. "And what if I don't?" he murmured, his voice a challenge.

Abby's grip on his collar tightened, her eyes like ice. "Then you're no use to me," she said, her voice cold. "And if you're no use to me, you're nothing but a liability."

Y/N felt the whispers in his head swell, a tide of anger and fear that seemed to push him to the brink. He knew she was right, that his abilities were what kept him alive in this world. But the thought of being her pawn, her weapon, was unbearable. "I'm more than a tool," he murmured, his voice tight with pain.

Abby's grip on his shirt didn't ease, her eyes searching his with a mix of frustration and something else, something that made his heart race. "I need you," she said, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it. "But I can't trust you if you won't follow my lead."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock, the whispers in his head momentarily silenced by her admission. Did she just say that she needed him? The idea was as foreign to him as the concept of safety in this decaying world. "What if I need you too?" he murmured, the words catching in his throat.

Abby's grip on his collar tightened, her eyes flashing. "You'll follow me," she said, her voice a low growl. "Or we're done."

The whispers in Y/N's head grew quiet, a sudden stillness that was more unnerving than their usual cacophony. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the fear that he'd turn on her. And maybe she was right to be afraid. Maybe he was a monster, a creature of the apocalypse that she didn't truly understand. But in that moment, all he knew was that he didn't want to lose her. "I'll follow," he murmured, his voice tight with pain.

Abby's grip on his shirt didn't ease as she searched his face, looking for any sign of deception. "Swear it," she demanded, her voice a low growl.

Y/N's eyes never left hers as he nodded, the whispers in his head a gentle murmur of resignation. "I swear," he murmured, the words a vow that felt like a noose tightening around his neck.