A Shred of Hope (The Walking Dead) (The Final Season Retelling)

6. A Different Morning

Clementine stood in the corridor. Windows lined the wall along her right side, all the way to the end. The corridor was only lit by the glow of the orange fires raging outside. She took a step forward, peeking out of the window. She could hear screams in the distance when suddenly, the windows slammed shut, turning crimson red.

She raised her hand, finding a knife clenched in it. She eyed the corridor. The walls appeared plain, save for a few pictures breaking the monotony. The door at the end of the corridor looked unassuming, however, it drew her towards it. She started walking, realising she was moving much slower than normal, as if time had slowed down.

As her hand reached for the handle, she found herself in a dark room with a single window on the right. The fire outside illuminated a chair in the middle, a boy sitting on it.

"AJ?" she asked, trembling.

"Clem," the boy said.

"AJ? Is that you?" she asked again.

"Please save me," he pleaded.

"Don't move!" She started running towards him, but no matter how much she seemed to run, the room seemed to stretch itself till she gave up, panting.

A figure stepped out of the shadows from behind the boy. He slowly stepped towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Have you come to rescue him?" he asked, his voice demonic as he locked eyes with her.

She stood still, paralysed by fear. She tried fighting it, but her mind seemed to have relinquished control over her body.

"Oh, how you come to this place again and again and again," he taunted, eyes glinting red with malevolence. "It's almost like you enjoy this."

She was unable to speak.

"It haunts you, doesn't it? This place. McCaroll Ranch," the man emphasised the words.

She breathed sharply, feeling her paralysis break. Looking at the man, she raised the knife to attack him.

"Looking for this?" he said, showing her the weapon she had held in her hand seconds ago.

She stared at her empty hand, bewildered.

"And like every time, we will end the story the same way," he said mischievously, plunging the knife into the boy's stomach.

"AJ!" she screamed.

Clementine woke up sweating, her chest heaving from the nightmare. She breathed deeply as the room came into focus. It took a second for her to realise where she was. She sat up, as the events of the last day streamed into her head.

She threw her blanket off and got up from the bed. The sun warmed the room through the windows. She could hear the birds chirping outside on the trees. AJ was still asleep. She watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, glad that he was safe. The night before had been stressful, to say the least. She had never been separated from AJ after the McCaroll Ranch events and she planned to never let that happen again. Relying on complete strangers was a big red signal for Clementine, but she was relieved that her belief had been proven wrong.

She looked around the now well-lit room, observing things she hadn't before. The shelves were stacked with books, something she'd missed last night. A small pile of papers sat beside the closet. Picking them up, she noticed they contained handwritten musical notations. She wasn't adept at understanding the notes, having never played an instrument herself.