ONE EYED BOY [C. Grimes][Rarl]

feels good

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Death, Mental Illness, Swearing

Murder was not something Carl's mother had approved of, even when lives were at risk. It was a horrible thing, she'd always told Carl. She was right, but a lot had changed since her death. Years had passed since Carl has been a child. He'd been through things that he always preferred not to speak about which led to him internalizing most of his emotions. Murder was not optional, he had realized long ago. Survival or Death was.

Carl Grimes thought about these things as he watched the savior kneel before his father, barring a bloody smile at them all. He wasn't afraid of his own death, and that pissed Carl off. How was he not trembling before Rick? Begging for mercy? He didn't deserve to live. He should be dead.

The thoughts bounced around his skull as he glanced up, catching sight of the Boy. The Boy in question was very important to Carl, even if they never spoke. Carl would never speak to him, for the Boy was dead, and also a figment of his imagination. These were assumptions of course. The Boy was a personal being in the Grimes child's life. His late boyfriend, Ron, seemed to haunt his life daily, and more so in situations like the one before them.

Carl looked away, tears stinging his eye as he stared the Savior down with his single blue eyes, contemplating his next move. His hand twitched as he listened to the grown man spit insult after insult, about how they would all die eventual and join the rest in the ground, with their friends.

He could just hear Ron's voice now, though it was just a recollection of a memory and not the hallucination across the clearing.

"Don't," He would have said. "It's not worth it, Carl. Don't give him the satisfaction."

No, don't give him the satisfaction. He wouldn't. His plan wouldn't allow the Savior a second of glory.

"What the fuck are you staring at?!" The savior said, catching sight of Carl blank gaze. Carl approached slowly, drawing and cocking his gun. Tension flooded the air as Carl's family looked to him, prediction his actions a fraction of a second late. Carl pointed his gun at the temple of the Savior as the enemy began to laugh.

"I'm going to kill you," Carl said in a monotone, calm voice. It wasn't a threat or a warning. Carl was just informing the crouched and bound man of his inevitable and bloody end. The Savior roared with laughter, doubting the 16-year-old.

"You ain't got the sack, kid-" He didn't finish the sentence, for Carl pulled the trigger as soon as he began to speak, his skull exploding at the impact of the bullet at point blank. Blood sprayed the ground and Carl, who was standing very close.

Silence filled with horror fell upon the clearing as Carl turned to look at his father's group.

He saw the phantom Ron, staring in horror and disappointment, and Carl just stared back.

"They're not going to kill any more of us," He said, emotionless.

"No more bull shit."