Bitter Murmur | Abby Anderson x Male Reader

Chapter 27

Y/N turned and walked away, leaving the room filled with the sounds of feasting walkers. The whispers grew more distant with each step, a mournful chorus that seemed to follow him like a mournful ghost. The corridors of the base were eerily quiet, the only sounds the echoes of his own footsteps and the occasional distant screams.

He stumbled outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stifling stench of death within. The moon cast long shadows across the battlefield, the twisted forms of the dead and the dying a macabre tapestry that painted the ground in shades of black and grey. The whispers grew quieter outside, their power diminished by the open space.

One walker reached out to him, its gnarled fingers brushing his arm, a whisper of a touch that sent a shiver down his spine. The creature's eyes, once dead, now held a spark of something...understanding? The whispers grew silent as it opened its mouth, revealing a tongue that had long ago rotted away. "Y/N...my love..."

Y/N looked back at it and froze, it wore the same clothes that Sophie did...was it really her?

The walker took a step closer, the moonlight playing tricks with the shadows. It's not her, he told himself, trying to convince his racing heart otherwise. But the whispers grew silent, a sudden void where the cacophony had once been. "Sophie," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

The creature's eyes, once filled with the emptiness of the undead, now sparkled with something that could almost be mistaken for love. "Y/N," it croaked, the name a painful echo of the girl he had lost. The hand that had once been hers reached up to caress his cheek, the cold, lifeless skin a bitter contrast to the warmth of the living.

Y/N stared into the abyss of her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. It couldn't be, and yet...the whispers had gone silent, leaving only the memory of her voice in his mind. "Sophie, I missed you so much" he murmured, his voice shaking as a tear rolled down his face. The walker leaned in, the whispers of the dead seemingly forgotten.

Her rotted hand reached up, the tenderness of the gesture a stark contrast to the horror of her condition. He felt the coldness of her touch, and for a moment, it seemed as if she was alive again, her warmth seeping into him. "You must come with me," she rasped, her eyes filled with a desperation that seemed to transcend the grave.

Y/N's heart swelled with a hope that was as irrational as it was potent. He knew it couldn't be, but the whispers had led him to her, had allowed him this moment of respite amidst the chaos. He took her hand, the skin peeling away in his grasp, and followed her through the carnage of the battlefield. The other walkers parted before them, their whispers a chilling lullaby that sang of a love that could not die, even in the face of the apocalypse.

The walker that had once been Sophie moved with a grace that belied her decay, leading him through the wreckage of what was once a bustling base. The whispers grew quieter, their hunger for his anger and pain sated by his grief. They walked for what felt like hours, the sun slowly rising, a silent sentinel to their macabre procession.

As they reached the edge of the WLF compound, the whispers grew stronger, a symphony of the lost and the damned that seemed to coalesce into a single voice, his Sophie's voice. She stopped, her head cocked to the side, listening to a whisper that only she could hear. Y/N's heart raced, hope and fear battling within his chest. Was this truly his Sophie, come back to him in this twisted form, or just another cruel trick of the whispers?

The walker that had once been his girlfriend turned to face him, her eyes alight with a fierce determination that seemed to burn away the decay. "I missed you too, Y/N," she said, her voice a painful reminder of her life. "I've waited for you every single day..."

Y/N's hand tightened around hers, the desiccated flesh crumbling beneath his grip. "Sophie, I looked for you, I really did" he choked out, the reality of her condition setting in.

Her smile was a twisted parody of the one he had loved, her lips peeling back to reveal blackened teeth. "I know," she whispered, her voice a symphony of the dead. "But you found me."

Y/N leaned in for a kiss, his heart racing with a mix of love and terror. The whispers grew to a crescendo in his mind, their hunger for this moment palpable. As his mouth met hers, the coldness of her skin sent a shiver down his spine, but the warmth of her breath, the sweetness of her soul, remained. For a brief moment, he forgot the decay, the horror of the world around them, and simply felt alive again.

As their lips parted, he felt her hand move to his crotch and he couldn't help but smirk, she may be a walker now but he was still hers, nothing changed and she knew that.

Y/N's body responded to her touch with an animalistic need that seemed to transcend life and death. He felt his humanity slipping away as the whispers grew stronger, their hunger for the intimate connection between them a maelstrom that threatened to consume him. The walker that was once his lover, Sophie, began to strip away his clothing, her movements slow and deliberate, each tug and pull a silent declaration of ownership.

Her decayed hands traced the contours of his body, leaving trails of coldness that sent shivers of both fear and arousal through him. He couldn't believe this was happening, but the whispers in his head grew more urgent, demanding that he embraced this perverse union. He allowed her to guide him, her strength surprising despite her decayed form. They laid down in the soft grass at the edge of the battle-scarred earth, the whispers of the dead a chorus of encouragement as they became one once again.