twd: the last silence

Chapter 51: Chapter 50



Chapter 50

Simon couldn't move.

He stood frozen in the darkened house, the hammering of his heart louder than the breath rattling from Alice's shattered lungs.

Axel didn't look at him anymore.

He was humming now.

A soft, broken lullaby. No words. Just a childlike tune, off-key and wrong.

His fingers moved with surgical grace, dragging the nail across Alice's raw scalp. She whimpered, barely conscious. She couldn't beg anymore. She couldn't even cry. Her throat was a tunnel of dried blood and shredded nerves.

Simon stepped back, eyes wide, body trembling.

"No more," he whispered.

Axel kept humming.

Then he paused.

He tilted his head and stared at Alice, as if considering her.

And then he smiled.

A real smile.

Warm.

Peaceful.

Like he was looking at an old friend.

And then he leaned in and whispered into the hole where her ear used to be.

"Do you remember what you said to my brother?"

He pressed his lips closer.

"You said, 'Close your eyes. It'll be over soon.'"

He looked up at Simon, that smile still on his face.

"She lied to him."

Axel turned slowly and stood.

Simon stepped backward, his boots crunching something wet.

"I'll kill you," he said again—but the words were thin now, hollow.

Axel didn't respond.

He raised the hammer and held it gently in both hands. His voice returned, soft as wind.

"She's tired. So tired. But not done."

Simon's hands shook. "Why are you doing this?"

Axel took a step forward, toward him now.

"Because she showed me what hell is," he whispered.

"And now…"

He reached behind him, pulling a long, glimmering object from the shadows.

It was a blade.

Not his katana. That was gone.

This was something else.

Old. Bone-white. Carved with symbols that moved when you didn't look directly at them.

Simon felt something wet run down his leg.

He'd pissed himself.

He didn't care.

Axel walked slowly, dragging the blade along the wall. Sparks flew where it touched.

"She won't sleep," Axel said.

"Not until she dreams of them. Of every scream. Every tear. Every fire."

Simon shouted, "She's dying!"

Axel stopped.

Then looked up.

And his eyes—

They weren't human anymore.

They were empty. But not void.

Something looked back from inside.

"You still think this is about her?" Axel asked.

The lights flickered.

The floor trembled.

From the walls came whispers.

Dozens of them. Hundreds. Some sounded like children. Some sounded like beasts. Some… didn't sound like anything this world had ever known.

It was strange

Weird

Maybe ge was dreaming

Maybe all this is a dream

Simon dropped to his knees.

His voice cracked. "Please…"

Axel leaned in.

His lips just inches from Simon's ear.

"She opened a door," he said.

"And now…"

He pressed a finger to Simon's lips again.

"…we don't sleep anymore."

Then everything went black.

No sound.

No breath.

No time.

Just a single, final scream from Alice that didn't end.

Not even when her throat was gone.

Not even when her body gave out.

Because some things keep screaming, even after death.

---

After the final hit…

It was over.

Axel walked out of Alice's house slowly, his steps leaving a trail of blood and ash on the cracked ground.

The cold air greeted him. The scent of fire, rot, and winter mixed together in the wind.

The Nomads' hive — once loud, crowded, full of chaos — was now silent.

Burned. Buried. Dead.

Three days ago, Axel and his wrath had reduced it all to ruins.

Now… he simply looked up.

The clouds were thick and pale, ready to snow.

He stood beneath them like a statue, bare chest stained in blood, skin pale like death, his hair crusted in black and red.

And in front of him — just five men.

Simon's men.

They didn't know what had happened inside.

They hadn't heard the screams.

Not fully.

Not like he did.

They stood there, gripping their weapons tight, unsure whether to fight or run.

And then Axel smiled.

Not wide.

Not cruel.

Just a soft, crooked smile like a ghost remembering a name.

He opened his mouth.

And breathed in.

The winter air filled his lungs slowly. Deeply.

Like it was the first breath he'd taken in years.

Then — he roared.

A roar that didn't belong to a man.

Didn't belong to anything of this earth.

It was the roar of a god in agony.

A dragon mourning its lost fire.

A void trying to fill itself with rage and failing.

The sound split the sky.

The men fell on their asses, hands over their ears, their hearts skipping beats.

One of them vomited.

Another cried without knowing why.

A third dropped his gun and whispered, "It's not human…"

Axel didn't care.

He kept screaming, up toward the heaven that ignored him.

Toward the gods that abandoned him.

Toward the hell that made him.

He screamed until his voice cracked and died.

Then he fell silent.

And just stood there.

Empty.

Still.

Alone.

Behind him, the door creaked open.

Simon walked out.

His face was pale.

His eyes… red.

From fear.

From rage.

From seeing what can never be unseen.

He didn't speak right away.

He stared at Axel's back.

That man.

That thing.

That nothing.

Then finally, in a voice that tried to sound strong but cracked anyway:

"You will face the consequences."

Axel didn't turn.

Didn't blink.

Didn't move.

He just whispered, soft enough that only Simon heard it.

"Then bring them."

---

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