twd: the last silence

Chapter 61: The Tale of Axel

The silence in Alexandria's war room was thick, heavy like fog before a storm.

The fire crackled in the hearth behind them, casting flickering shadows across each face seated around the long wooden table. Rick sat at the head, staring at the knife Axel had thrown, now resting on the table in front of him.

Daryl leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. Michonne sat still, tense, while Rosita drummed her fingers slowly against the table's edge. Father Gabriel sat with his hands folded, head low, deep in thought.

Then he spoke.

"We know Negan..." Father Gabriel began, his voice soft but clear. "But who is that kid? Axel?"

The question echoed through the room like a shot.

Everyone looked around, waiting for someone—anyone—to answer.

And then Jesus, quiet until now, leaned forward.

"I've heard things. Scattered rumors mostly. But I pieced together enough.

After what happened a few days ago i started searching and gathering info about him"

All eyes turned to him. He continued.

"You remember the Governor, right? Before I met any of you—before Alexandria, the Hilltop, all of it—he ruled a place not far from a small village. He thought of himself as a king. Demanded allegiance. Submission."

Rick nodded slowly, the memory of Woodbury and that madman bubbling up in his mind.

"Well," Jesus said, "that village had a leader. A kid, actually. Younger than most. His name was Axel."

Everyone leaned in.

"When the Governor demanded their surrender, Axel went to him alone... and destroyed everything. Took down the Governor's men, burned his compound, and put the Governor's head on a pike outside the village gates."

The room fell into stunned silence.

Even Daryl looked shocked. Michonne's brows furrowed. Rick slowly leaned back in his chair.

Jesus wasn't done.

"But that was just the beginning. There was someone else—someone worse."

He paused.

"Alice. A warlord. A leader of a brutal group during the early days. Axel had a younger brother and a patient he cared for. Alice and her men captured them, tortured the boy—cut off his legs, his arms, left him to bleed and rot while laughing. She stabbed him over and over. For sport."

Rosita's face paled. Father Gabriel closed his eyes in prayer.

"Axel disappeared for a long time. But a few weeks ago, he resurfaced. Found Alice. He didn't just kill her. He burned her entire group to the ground. Every outpost, every man, every ally she had. Gone."

Jesus' voice dropped lower.

"And Alice… He didn't give her the mercy of death. Not right away. He kept her alive for three days. The things he did to her—what I heard from survivors—would make you vomit. Even the men she once commanded… they begged for death. Some ran into gunfire to escape."

No one spoke.

Rick leaned forward slowly, eyes serious.

"And now he's with Negan."

Jesus nodded. "That's right. And I don't think Axel cares about power or control. He's not like Negan. He doesn't want to lead. He wants to enjoy it. And that… makes him worse."

Michonne whispered, almost to herself:

"What kind of man comes out of that kind of pain smiling?"

Father Gabriel looked up.

"The kind that can't be reasoned with."

Rick clenched his jaw.

"Then we make damn sure he doesn't come back to Alexandria."

—

The morning sun filtered dimly through the windows of Alexandria's main council hall, casting long shadows across the floor. The silence among Rick's group was deafening. Faces were grim. Tired. Haunted.

Jesus stood at the front, arms crossed loosely as he looked over the people gathered—Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Rosita, Gabriel, Aaron, and others who'd fought too long, lost too much.

He broke the silence with a heavy breath.

"There's one rule in Axel's book."

His voice carried weight, not loud, but clear and deliberate.

"He loves to kill, yes. He loves to fight. Chaos, violence, adrenaline—he feeds on all of it."

Jesus looked each of them in the eye.

"But there's something he hates more than anything else—something he won't forgive. Not even from Negan."

They listened, still and silent.

"No harm to women or children. Not a slap. Not a shove. Not a whisper of threat. He's made it clear—cross that line, and you die. Doesn't matter who you are."

Jesus paused, letting the weight of his words settle.

"It's not hearsay. I've spoken to people who barely escaped Alice's fall, who said he executed his own for laying a hand on a scared girl. No warning. Just steel and blood."

Rick's jaw clenched. He already knew where this was going.

Jesus continued.

"Negan's done unforgivable things. We all know it—Abraham, Glenn… The way he ruled. But even he has that same law: no women, no kids. That's his line. And now, Axel has adopted it too."

He looked toward the floor, then back up.

"And we..."

He hesitated, his tone shifting from hard fact to quiet guilt.

"We burned down one of Negan's outposts. We didn't search every body. We didn't check the rubble. We missed the signs."

Rick lowered his gaze, expression tightening.

"A child died there. Buried beneath ash and corpses."

Gasps and quiet murmurs spread across the room.

Jesus' voice lowered, nearly a whisper now.

"That's why Axel threw the knife at you, Rick. Why his eyes were cold."

He stepped closer to the table, putting both hands down on its edge.

"Because in his eyes, you crossed the line. The one line he doesn't bend for anyone."

Daryl rubbed his face and leaned back, muttering under his breath, "Shit..."

Father Gabriel clutched his rosary tighter, while Michonne looked at Rick with something between sorrow and warning.

Rick sat still, jaw locked, fists clenched on the table.

He had led them into war. And now, he might have turned monsters into something worse.

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