Unbreakable threads

Chapter Sixty-Seven: The fall of the Prison.

The Governor's voice echoed across the prison yard, dripping with a chilling authority that sent a shiver down Alyssa's spine. He stood confidently before the gates, surrounded by his new followers, his face twisted into a sinister smirk as he addressed the empty walls.

"Rick!" he shouted again, his tone both mocking and threatening. "Get out here! We've got some unfinished business to discuss!" His gaze scanned the area, clearly expecting his call to be answered. But then, his expression shifted, a glint of recognition and amusement flickering in his eyes as a new thought crossed his mind.

"Oh, and Rick... bring your daughter with you," he sneered, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "The one with the bite to her. Your little soldier. The girl who thought she could take on my men with that big gun of hers last time." He chuckled, the sound low and menacing, his gaze shifting as if he were already imagining the fight she'd put up.

Alyssa's blood ran cold. He was talking about her—the Governor remembered her, remembered her defiance the last time he'd attacked the prison, how she'd stood on the walls, AK 47  in hand, firing on his men with a fury that had left an impression. She'd thought she was a shadow in the grand scheme, another face in the crowd, but he'd seen her, remembered her.

Daryl's hand tightened around his crossbow as he glanced at her, his jaw clenched, his protective instinct flaring at the Governor's taunt. "He's tryin' to rile you up, Alyssa. Tryin' to get under your skin. Don't let him."

But Alyssa's heart pounded, her fists clenched as she fought to keep her composure. The Governor wanted to single her out, to make her a target, maybe even use her against Rick. And that realization only fueled her determination. She couldn't let him see her fear, couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd shaken her.

She took a deep breath, glancing back at Daryl, then toward the yard, her mind racing. "We can't just ignore him," she muttered, her voice steady but filled with a quiet, simmering rage. "He's got a tank, Daryl. And he's not here to talk. He's here to finish what he started."

Daryl nodded, his gaze darkening as he looked toward the gates. "Then we play it smart. Get everyone ready, fortify what we can. If he wants a fight, we give him one, but on our terms."

Just then, the prison's gates rattled as the Governor shouted again, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Come on out, Rick! Or do I need to start blowing holes in these walls to get your attention?"

Alyssa gritted her teeth, her anger boiling beneath her calm facade. She wouldn't let the Governor intimidate her, wouldn't let him take away the only place that felt like home, the people she loved. They'd fought him once, and she was ready to fight him again, this time with everything she had.

The Governor's men parted, and he stepped forward, dragging two figures with him—Hershel and Michonne. The sight hit Alyssa like a punch to the gut, a fresh wave of horror and fury bubbling up inside her.

Hershel, his face weary but defiant, and Michonne, bound but glaring at the Governor with a look that could cut steel, stood side by side, prisoners in the hands of a man who knew no mercy. The Governor held them in front of him like trophies, brandishing them as a reminder of his power, his twisted sense of justice. He knew exactly what he was doing, using their friends as leverage to force their hand.

"Rick!" the Governor bellowed, a sick satisfaction evident in his voice. "Look what I found wandering around outside! Seems like you're not as protective of your people as you think. These two? They were just begging for a place to belong. And I found them."

He tightened his grip on Hershel's shoulder, forcing the older man to his knees, but Hershel remained stoic, his gaze unwavering. Alyssa could see the determination in his eyes, even in the face of danger, but it did little to quell the rage building inside her. Michonne, beside him, met Alyssa's gaze from across the yard, her expression hard and resolute. She didn't need to speak for Alyssa to know she was ready to fight, no matter the odds.