Chapter 118
The night was quiet.
Too quiet.
Axel sat in front of Maggie's house, back against the wall, katana resting by his side like an old friend. The stars were out, but he wasn't looking at them. He just stared straight ahead, lost in the silence.
His cigarette had burned out minutes ago, but he didn't notice.
He didn't move.
Until—
"Kid," Daryl's voice broke through. "Let's go. Rick's calling for a meeting."
Axel didn't answer at first. He sighed, stood up slowly, brushed off his pants, and grabbed his katana. He followed Daryl without a word, his expression unreadable.
When they entered the meeting room, it was full.
Rick, Michonne, Aaron, Gabriel, Rosita, and a few others were sitting around the long table. Maps were laid out, papers, lists, and blueprints. They were discussing the expansion of Alexandria, resource planning, patrol routes.
Axel didn't even pretend to care.
He sat down, leaned back in the chair, and let his head fall onto the table with a soft thump. His eyes closed. But he wasn't tired.
He was just… bored.
Rick glanced at him for a second, then kept talking.
Axel was still there physically, but in his head—he wasn't in that room anymore. He was somewhere else entirely.
There was silence in his mind. Not chaos, not blood, not screams—just pure, cold silence. A stillness he hadn't felt in years. The kind of silence that stripped everything away. No memories, no pain, no rage. Just… nothing.
It should've scared him.
But it didn't.
For once in his cursed life, Axel felt something strange.
Peace.
A moment of emptiness that felt almost holy.
Like his soul stopped screaming.
Like the weight had been lifted for just a moment.
The meeting dragged on through the night, but Axel didn't move. He stayed like that the whole time, head on the table, not asleep, not awake—just there.
Then came the morning.
Sunlight broke through the window, warm and golden, crawling across the table like a gentle hand.
And Axel jumped.
His body shot up like someone lit a fire under him.
The whole group flinched, startled by the sudden movement.
Rick turned to him. "Axel?"
But Axel didn't say anything.
He stood there. Silent. Eyes wide.
Something had shifted.
The smirk was gone.
The sarcasm, the boredom—all wiped clean from his face.
What replaced it wasn't anger.
It wasn't pain.
It was fear.
Real fear.
Everyone saw it.
And no one said a word.
Not even Daryl.
Because whatever it was Axel just felt…
It scared him more than death.
More than anything.
And that meant it was coming.
---
Axel's body started shaking.
Not from cold.
From fear.
Pure, primal fear that gripped his chest and nearly stopped his heart from beating. His hands trembled. His knees wobbled. His breath caught in his throat like he was drowning in nothing.
Rick and the others stood still, frozen by the sudden shift in him.
"Axel?" Michonne asked.
"Kid, what's wrong?" Daryl's voice came softer now, more careful.
But Axel didn't hear them.
His lips moved.
"No… no… no no no…" he whispered, eyes wide but unfocused. "He's dead. I'm sure he's… he's dead…"
He spoke like a man reliving a nightmare.
And then—
The door burst open.
One of the gate guards stepped in, breathless. "Rick! Someone's outside the gate. Says he wants to meet you."
Everyone turned toward the man, surprised. Rick furrowed his brow, already stepping toward the door.
But before Rick could move—
Axel ran.
Not walked.
Ran.
He sprinted through the door like a wild animal escaping a cage, his feet pounding the floor so loud it silenced the room.
Rick shouted after him. "Axel?!"
But Axel didn't look back.
Everyone followed.
They expected him to be charging into a fight.
To be going to protect someone.
But this wasn't that.
Axel wasn't running to save.
He was running from something.
And whatever it was…
It terrified him.
Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and the others stood behind Axel now as he stood at the gate, frozen in place.
He didn't draw his sword.
He didn't say a word.
His head was lowered, shaking slightly, shoulders tense.
The gates creaked open.
And all eyes locked on what stood outside.
There was only one vehicle—an old black car, dusty, its engine still rumbling softly.
And beside it… a man.
He stood tall. Gray hair combed back, aged but powerful. Muscles pressed against his sleeves like they were trying to escape. A long scar ran across his left eye. His hand gripped a katana that looked exactly like Axel's.
The resemblance was haunting.
He walked with a calm, quiet menace. Like a man who didn't need to announce himself. Like someone who had already killed more than enough to earn silence as his name.
The man stopped in front of Axel.
The group behind waited. Confused. Tense.
Axel still hadn't moved.
Hadn't spoken.
Hadn't looked up.
He kept his head lowered.
And then it happened.
The man raised his hand—
CRACK!
A slap.
A brutal one.
The sound echoed through Alexandria like a gunshot.
Axel's face twisted sideways, head snapping to the side, but he didn't fall.
He didn't flinch.
He just stood there, taking it.
The man's voice came next, gravel-thick and laced with venom:
"Did you really think dying would free you from me?"
The group behind didn't know who this man was.
But Axel did.
And the look on his face now—rage, shame, fear—all tangled together…
Told them everything.
This wasn't a stranger.
This was someone Axel knew.
Someone Axel ran from.
Someone who didn't need to raise his katana to be deadly.
And for the first time in his life—
Axel looked like a child again.
---
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