twd: the last silence

Chapter 55: A Symphony of Trouble

The gates of Alexandria creaked open with hesitation, like even the steel knew what kind of storm was stepping through.

Negan walked at the front, Lucille resting on his shoulder, his grin spreading wider with every cautious eye on him. Behind him, Axel strolled casually with his katana swinging on his back, hands in his coat pockets, eyes scanning the place like a wolf entering a chicken coop.

Rick Grimes stood by the gate, arms crossed, jaw tight.

"Negan," he said, voice cold and steady.

"Riiiiick," Negan practically sang, drawing out the name like a dirty little secret. "God damn it's good to see that sour mug of yours. Still got that broomstick up your ass, or did Father Gabriel finally loosen it up for you?"

Rick didn't flinch. "What do you want?"

Negan's grin turned into a smirk. "Straight to the point. I respect that. We're just here for a friendly inspection. A little quality time with the neighbors."

He stepped aside and gestured dramatically. "This here—" he pointed behind him "—is Axel."

Axel gave a little wave. "Hi, Rick. I'm Axel. I murder people for fun."

Silence. Every Alexandrian's spine stiffened. Carol's hand twitched near her coat. Daryl's eyes narrowed. Michonne subtly adjusted her grip on her katana.

Negan laughed. "Ahh, don't let the boy scare ya. He's got a dark sense of humor. Don't you, Axel?"

"No," Axel replied flatly. "I'm being serious."

Negan burst into laughter, clapping Axel's back.

Rick took a breath, but before he could speak, Axel's eyes landed on Carl.

"He yours?" Axel asked, nodding toward the boy.

Rick stiffened. "Yeah."

"Reminds me of my brother," Axel said, tone suddenly distant. "Except Alice cut his arms and legs off before killing him."

The weight of that sentence sank like iron into water. Nobody said a word. Rick's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—unease.

Negan broke the tension. "Don't mind him. He's been through some shit. But he's on our team now. Part of the family. Right, Axel?"

Axel shrugged. "For now."

The group moved through the streets. Alexandrians watched from windows, frozen in place, their breath held like the town itself was waiting to explode.

Negan strolled past the gardens, inspecting tomatoes.

"God damn, you guys got yourselves a little Whole Foods going on here. I'm proud of ya. Civilization at its finest." He popped a cherry tomato in his mouth. "Mmm… tastes like fear."

Meanwhile, Axel leaned near a wall where Carl, Judith, and a few others were seated. He crouched beside Carl and whispered, "Keep your blade close, kid. Not everyone who smiles is safe."

Carl met his eyes. "Neither are the ones who don't."

Axel chuckled, stood, and walked on.

Inside the main house, Rick sat across the table from Negan while Axel leaned against the wall like a shadow. Rosita stood nearby. Daryl hadn't moved from his spot in the corner, hand twitching over his crossbow.

Negan kicked his feet up.

"So, let's talk about tribute. As per our lovely arrangement, you owe us some supplies. But—" he looked at Axel "—seeing as it's our first visit with my new boy here, I figured we do things a bit differently."

Rick narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Axel stepped forward, dragging a chair beside Negan, flipping it around and sitting on it backward.

"I mean," Axel said, voice calm, "how about instead of tribute… we play a game?"

Rick's jaw clenched. "What kind of game?"

Negan leaned in, voice low, eyes sparkling. "One of trust, Rick. Let's see who really runs this place. You versus Axel. One-on-one. Not to the death, don't piss yourself. Just a little spar."

Axel stood, rolling his shoulders. "Don't worry. I'll only break two or three bones. Maybe four."

Rick looked to Michonne, who shook her head. "It's a trap."

"No," Rick said slowly. "It's a message."

He stood.

The room cleared out in seconds.

They faced off in Alexandria's courtyard. A ring of survivors circled the two men, some whispering, others holding their breath.

Negan leaned over to Judith, who was sitting in a chair. "Five bucks says your dad gets the shit kicked outta him."

Axel and Rick circled one another. The fight wasn't fair. Rick was fast. Precise. Determined. But Axel—he was feral. Every strike was wild but controlled, like a hurricane choosing where to land.

Rick landed two good hits, but Axel laughed it off and grabbed Rick by the collar, slamming him to the ground.

"I could kill you," Axel said, breath hot and low, "but where's the fun in that?"

He stepped back, let Rick rise, and the fight continued.

When it was over, both men were bruised and bloodied, but Rick stood tall—even if barely.

Axel smiled, wiping blood from his lip.

"Damn," he said. "You're not bad, Grimes. I think I like you."

Negan clapped slowly, stepping into the circle. "That… was beautiful. Like a ballet of testosterone."

Rick turned to him, still breathing hard. "We done?"

Negan nodded. "We're done. For now."

As they walked back to the trucks, Axel glanced back one last time at Alexandria.

"You think they'll ever try to kill us?" he asked.

Negan chuckled. "Every goddamn day, kiddo. And that's what keeps things interesting."

---

The truck rumbled along the cracked highway, the sun starting to dip low on the horizon. Trees on either side leaned in like spectators, silent and still. Axel sat in the passenger seat, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. The air inside the truck was thick with smoke, gunpowder, and something else—something raw.

Negan drove with one hand on the wheel, Lucille resting lazily between the seats, always close. His sunglasses caught the dying sun, and his grin hadn't faded since they left Alexandria.

Axel exhaled, a slow, lazy stream of smoke curling through the cab. His eyes were fixed out the window, but his voice cut through the silence.

"You know, Neg," he muttered, "I kinda like you."

Negan turned his head slightly, his smirk widening. "Well, goddamn. Look at you—feelings and shit. You getting all cuddly on me now, sweetheart?"

Axel let out a laugh, dry and hoarse. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't like you like you." He took another drag. "It's more like… after I killed that bitch Alice, I felt nothing. Just… empty. Thought I'd feel better. Thought maybe I'd finally feel done."

Negan said nothing, but he was listening. Eyes on the road, ears on the boy beside him.

Axel continued. "But then I killed her little lapdog Simon. That smug bastard. And that felt good. Not satisfying… not closure. Just fun. Real, bloody, brutal fun." He smiled, almost nostalgically. "And now? Now I know what I want."

He turned toward Negan, smile fading, tone serious.

"To have fun."

Negan glanced at him, amused. "Well shit, I'm flattered. I do throw a hell of a party."

"But," Axel said, cutting the levity with a blade of steel, "no women. No children."

Negan's grin dimmed, but not out of disagreement—out of understanding.

"If I see one of the Sanctuary scum lay a finger on a kid, I'll cut him open right there. If I catch a man hurting a woman, same fate. I don't give a damn who it is. I'll gut them and string 'em up like pigs."

He looked at Negan, dead serious.

"I didn't care before. I was tunnel-visioned. I was gonna burn everything just to get to her. And I did. But now that it's over… now that I'm free…"

Axel flicked his cigarette out the window.

"No more hurting the innocent. That's the only rule I got."

Negan tapped the steering wheel, then let out a deep, genuine laugh. "Kiddo, you just got a whole lot more interesting."

Axel tilted his head. "That a deal?"

Negan nodded, smirk creeping back. "Fuckin' deal."

They both sat in silence for a beat. Then, without warning—

BOOM!

The road erupted in front of them, fire and dirt blasting into the air. The truck skidded violently as Negan yanked the wheel, tires squealing as they barely avoided flipping.

"SHIT!" Negan shouted. Lucille fell to the floor with a metallic thud.

Gunfire followed. Automatic. From the treeline.

Axel was already moving. He kicked the door open and rolled out, drawing his katana with a hiss. Bullets zipped past him like angry bees.

Negan ducked behind the door, pulling Lucille up. "Goddamnit, I was enjoying that conversation!"

Axel, already halfway to the treeline, sliced through the first attacker with brutal precision. One swing—neck to shoulder. The man didn't even scream.

More figures emerged from the forest—bandits or exiles, faces wrapped in cloth, eyes wild.

"AMBUSH!" Negan roared, slamming his bat into the nearest skull, cracking it like an egg.

Axel was a blur—faster than a shadow. Blood sprayed, limbs fell, screams echoed. It wasn't a fight. It was a massacre.

Negan laughed as he swung Lucille into a man's face, teeth flying from his mouth like gravel. "You boys picked the wrong goddamn truck!"

Axel caught a blade mid-swing, twisted it from a woman's grip, and slammed her into the dirt with his boot on her throat. He didn't kill her. She wasn't armed.

"No women," he growled under his breath, and moved on.

When it was over, the forest was painted red. Smoke drifted up from the roadside. The smell of blood and fire lingered like perfume.

Negan stood over a twitching body, breathing hard, Lucille dripping.

Axel stood at the edge of the treeline, watching the flames with calm eyes.

Negan walked over, clapped him on the back.

"Well goddamn," he grinned. "That was better than sex."

Axel cracked a smile. "You really need to meet better women."

Negan cackled. "With company like you? Who the fuck needs women?"

They both walked back to the truck, bruised, bloodied, and alive.

Axel lit another cigarette, slid into the passenger seat.

Negan got behind the wheel, looked over at him.

"Next time, you're driving."

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