You put your arms on an aluminum table that was in contact with the cold wall. The environment was dark. The gray plaster already crumbled when you just looked at it. Although the floor and the various as good as surfaces were dust-free, the small light that fell through the thick windows gave the impression of a dirty and deserted place. If you had managed to conquer this prison, you would have had to work hard to make it inviting, otherwise the citizens of Woodbury would not have liked to accept this... Not that aesthetics are important, but it certainly would have helped and appeased those who resisted them. It had already made unpleasant comments about it, because nobody wanted to live in a prison. Who could blame them? Used to luxury, they would not have enjoyed the new arrangement, although it was definitely safer. Unfortunately, only a few could understand that. Some round tables were in the middle of the room. A cabin above, the station of the prison guard. You were maybe in the area that was used for the recreation area. The others stared at you behind a barred door that allowed access to the cells. The elderly man, however, was sitting on two steps in your area, with his crutches next to it.

"Listen... Here are my rules. For the first you sleep in this part. I will take your weapons and they will not be given to you until I think it is appropriate. Do you want to come out? - Ask me for permission. Do you want to be useful? - Ask me what you can do. Do you want to go to the bathroom? - You can report it to me. I need to know about each of your moves, is that clear? You have to earn our trust. I have allowed you to enter and now it is in your hands... You won't listen? - You are banished. Do you threaten some of us? - Then I kill you. I'm not condemning you, I'm just warning you, okay?", Rick said, walking back and forth in front of you.

There were visible sweat marks on his shirt, but they were not only caused by high temperatures, but also by nervousness. This man has stirred you up. You just had to look at him and you were already desperate. It seemed that whatever he did was a burden... He handed your weapons behind the bars, to the woman from before: Carol. Her eyes promised little good. She would never lose sight of you. The Asian was dissatisfied with your condition, but sighed. He knew it was the right thing. They trusted Rick. But Carol seemed to you to be the troubling element of the group, the one that repeatedly challenged the decisions. Maybe something happened in the past that she had not forgiven him yet...

"Are there any questions?", Rick asked you suddenly.

"Where are the shower rooms?"

Rick frowned. Maybe he had expected something different after his intimidating monologue. But you were more urged on yourself to remove the disgusting, now dry guts from yourself. The man with the crutches meanwhile tried to suppress a laugh.

"You have to excuse me, sometimes I forget my manners.", you said, turning around and smiling at him, finally showing yourself sociable.

"I'll show you the way.", the old man said, heading for a corridor, but Rick stopped him.

"Hershel, I'll take care of it, you stay here."

So that was his name... Hershel understood his fear and entered the tract where the others of the group were. So you had to follow Rick. The corridor was narrow but well lit. Many doors followed each other. He pointed to the arrows on the wall. They had marked the route. Probably the excluded areas were not completely cleared. You walked by his side and saw a door ajar, but couldn't see anything. Out of the corner of your eye, you only noticed a red and rusty toolbox. Rick rubbed his neck with his left hand while his right hand grabbed the revolver from his holster. After a few meters, he suddenly stopped and showed you the shower area.

"I'll stay out here and wait."

"Mr. Grimes?"

"Yes?"

"I forgot my clothes..."

The expression he assumed was a mixture of astonishment and annoyance. He coughed and cleared his throat.

"Okay... Are they in your backpack?"

"Yes..."

He turned and began to go back all the way. You waited for him to turn the corner and count for a short while before moving. The lounge and bathrooms were exactly 90 seconds apart. So you had a timeframe of about two minutes, considering you had gone much faster. You literally ran on tiptoe trying to remember the height of the open door. As soon as you found it, you jumped to the toolbox and hoped to find something useful. Otherwise the clothes would have served little... A big screwdriver, a wrench, a few screws, a broken hammer. Shit... You needed something subtile, something you could safely hide. You looked around quickly, desperate like a hatched deer running away from a hunter. Twenty seconds, just twenty seconds before he came back. But you did not have time to go back. You heard the sound of footsteps echoing between the walls. You had to improvise, so you went back into the hall, freed your neck from a necklace you always carried with you and threw it far away on the floor. Then, as if nothing had happened, you went to it. Rick put the bag in his hand on the ground and when he saw you, he quickened his pace.

"Where are you going?"

You did not answer and leaned over your knees to pick up the necklace and pretended to be afraid to lose it again. Then he handed you the bag and you thanked him. You went back to the showers, he stood next to the door and relaxed his back against the wall.

"Rick, one more thing...", you started and looked down at him dejectedly: "If you are so worried that I am dangerous, why did you let me in?"

"I think it's now normal, especially in this new world, to be suspicious... Don't you think, you know, you're not the first person to show up in front of our bloodied gates, the context was different, but I did good to trust her.", he replied.

"I understand..."

It made sense, in short, it was logic. "And is the person still here?", you asked curiously and he smiled.

"Yes, but not right now, you'll meet her tonight, you two resemble each other, I think Michonne would even agree.", he continued to smile.

~

The blood carried by the water slid into the drain and formed eddies. Finally you felt clean again. That disgusting smell was gone. As fussy as you were, you never thought that you could survive in an apocalypse. The blood or the sight of a rotting body did not bother you anyway. Having worked on special army operations, you had definitely seen worse. But you did not think that one day you would be in this mess, forced to rub yourself with rotten organs...
How had Rick dared to compare you to this killer? You were not at all similar... Your clothes were soaked in cold water in one of the sinks. The spots should disappear. You closed the faucet and leaned your palms against the tiles that covered the wall. How long would you resist in the company of these people, the urge to kill them? Rick got on your nerves somehow and Carol apparently hated you... With the exception of Hershel, you felt like you had returned to school. You felt bad with your companions. How could you not lose control? How could you give up the urge to smash their faces? If the Governor wanted to make things easier, like on a hill, for example, you could kill them with a tactical sniper rifle. Of course it wouldn't have been so satisfying if they had lost their lives without suffering. You wiped yourself with a towel and put your crumpled clothes in your bag. A pair of black jeans with a hole on the right knee and a dark top. As soon as you finished, you entered the corridor, where you saw Rick looking impatiently.

"Did I take too long?", you asked, your still wet hair helping you fight the heat.

"No, it's okay."

Apparently he was worried about something else.

"Listen, I thought I was going out to the yard to let my hair dry out in the open air, do I have your permission?"

"Yes, go...", he said hastily, as if he wanted you to remain silent. "I have to talk to Carol."

You were happy, you were allowed to go unaccompanied. You were curious to know more, but you rather went out... You saw Carl at the corner of the fence and was busy throwing pebbles at the Walkers, who clung to it. The rotten fingers drove through the holes in the fence and longed for fresh meat. Carl spared the Walkers and sat cross-legged on the ground. Luckily the boy had not seen you, so you checked the size of the prison. You looked at the watchtowers, the fences, the boxes of ammunition and weapons. A real arsenal... You noticed several gates locked with chains and padlocks. The block next door was occupied by some Walkers. You had to get out of the group necessarily more information and disguise the questioning with a simple chatter. You would start with Hershel the next morning. You clung to the fence and tugged at various points to analyze the condition, then went back to your round of exploration. You noticed bags with baby food. But that is not possible... Was there a baby in the prison? Your mind projected the image of the blonde from behind, the arms were busy holding something up. A mother? You couldn't believe it... A sharp tone interrupted your thoughts. Immediately, your body turned in the direction from which it had come. It all happened very fast, although the time seemed slower. Your eyes focused on the fence and recognized a rusty area. A Walker crossed the threshold and passed through the iron fence that had separated and protected you all. The Walker pointed to the boy and hurried to him. Carl, unaware of the danger, got up to go back to the prison. You screamed his name, but he did not hear you. The Walker stretched out his arms and came closer and closer. If only you had your weapons... But suddenly you saw Rick appear across from you. He yelled his son's name and took the revolver from his holster. As soon as Carl realized what was going on, he started running desperately. From the heat and the drama of the moment, the boy's father had not noticed your presence. You were both on your way to Carl and knew that you would never be there in time. The living dead man was behind him now and grabbed him. The boy tried to free himself from the grip before the teeth penetrated his neck. He collapsed to the ground. You closed your eyes for a second and when you opened them, you were beside the bastard who had bent over his prey. With the full force of your body, you kicked his skull. The Walker stumbled. Then you remembered the wrench... You grabbed it and pierced through the chin, tongue, wedged on the palate and finally rammed it into his brain. Intoxicated by anger, you rushed to him again and penetrated with the tool into the eyeball and reached the brain again. A heartbreaking sound suddenly stopped your breath. Behind you, Carl was covered with the Walker's organic substances, Rick had thrown himself on his son and hugged him. The boy did not speak and was shocked. He had not understood the dynamics of what was happening yet, all he knew was that he had probably faced Death again. Rick controlled his son's body with rage for fear of finding a few scratches. You yourself were not sure... You had been so busy running that you did not notice that detail. When you heard a nervous laugh mixed with sobs, you realized that Carl was fine. The adrenaline disappeared and you could feel the trembling of your tired legs. It was like involuntarily imitating the decaying person and falling to your knees. You were relieved. You saved a life. Rick rocked compulsively and held his boy tight. On your right thigh, you noticed a thin, red trickle running between the rotten blood. But you did not feel any pain. You relaxed your grip, but you did not give up the weapon. While Rick, still in shock, rested his face in the boy's hair, his eyes were fixed on you. You walked slowly to them, but suddenly it was burning. A terrible sting swept over you. A sharp, agonizing pain. Impulsively you stiffened. You looked down to see where this suffering came from. An arrow... An arrow stuck in your side. Suddenly you felt weak and everything around you went dark...