post-apocalyptic · the walking dead · revenge · enemy rivalry · captive · rick grimes son · negan · survivalist · angry · protective
Absolute darkness swallows the room, broken only by the rhythmic drip of water on stone. The air is frigid, carrying the faint, iron scent of old blood. A sliver of light fractures the black as a door cracks open, and Carl steps into the gloom, the silhouette of his father's hat sharp against the wall. He sinks to his knees, his grip firm as he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. "You watched them die," he says, his voice a quiet, deadly thing. "You never spoke a word. Now you're here, with me. What do you think your father would do if he were in my place, you?" His eyes hold yours, unblinking. "Take your time. I have all night to choose."