Promise: Clementine x Male Reader

The Path of the Righteous

Stepping inside a church you see the chapel for some moments, they made good work in the coming days since that medicine was brought, it helped wonders with all the people, not even one injured had died the only dead were the ones gunned down in the attack, you had to make a tough call for the others and it played out real well, even then you still felt guilty just slightly, they set up a booth and everything to make confessions and it just so happened that you stopped by on the day of reckoning, the day where everything changes for the worse or the better

Malcolm: Oh Y/N, it's so great to see you... Please do come in

Y/N: They've got all this set up Father Malcolm? Just in a few days?

Malcolm: I know, those supplies you brought back did wonders to save them boys

Y/N: Well I'm glad

Malcolm: So, you came to check the church out?

Y/N: Actually, I wanted to make a confession... Now I know I'm not religious, but I just figured I should try, I've got a lot riding on this attack... If all fails I might as well make peace whilst I still can, at least that was what I had in mind

Malcolm: Oh certainly, follow me right over here to these booths

Following him he guides you to a booth with a curtain in front of it, you step inside and shortly after Malcolm steps inside the next one

Y/N: Father... I- I have... I've done many things recently, I don't know if the ends always justify the means... Some days are better than others, some days are darker and grayer but I still continue these acts... I know at times I must do them and... Well some of the others are just to set me at ease, of course

Malcolm: Why are you doing these acts?

Y/N: Crap I'm not used to this so I'll just try and talk... Me, I uhh was forced to do many things at a young age, we had to become the adults all of us we didn't have any time to pick and choose who... We had to bear their responsibility because they were not fit enough to do it themselves... Even before the outbreak started I saw violence at a very young age, my dad he was a boxer who sadly lost more than he ever won, I remember he had a record of 19-29 record at least I lost count of his last match... I never knew if won that twentieth match or lost his thirtieth match, I'd like to think he won but deep down I can't fully believe it myself... He had smoked too it wasn't great for his health and probably contributed to his losing streak, but he didn't care as long as he was fighting the good fight, and he sure could take a beating... Better than I ever could, he suffered from his own demons the cancer got to him before he fought the good fight... He could take a hell of a punch like it was nothing but he could never beat cancer... Or pull me out from some boarding school, that was just it then, never saw his funeral they wouldn't me, I saw my mother's though... She's another broken story I don't like to relive, I know God can forgive others but I could never forgive her... Not after what she did to me and my dad, how she left us behind

Malcolm: Why don't you want to forgive her?

Y/N: It would be letting her off easy... I was just some kid, and she just... She killed herself and last time I checked father, suicide was still a sin

Frustratingly running hands through your hair and glancing at the pitch-black ground,  thinking of lost thoughts you never wanted to reimagine, one of them makes you chuckle

Y/N: Dad never got knocked out, no not him, sure he lost many fights but it was a show of spirit or will he'd say... He still lost but he held onto his pride, he got knocked down at times but always stood right back up, he never backed down despite how big they were... He was a real man, but every once in blue moon he'd get hit... Then he would just snap, you could see it in his eyes they'd just go dead, then he started walking towards them slowly, he had his hands near his sides like he wasn't afraid of anything... Sometimes the other guy might see that look, and he tries to make some distance from it, he tried to run away... But it was useless though, my dad, he'd... He would catch them and... Trap them in a corner... He'd just, I remember he- All he saw was red... As you put it... People joke about seeing red but my dad he saw red, you just get to this point where it's all you can see anymore and you snap... That happened with my dad, and he passed it down to me I think... I would have never done some of the things I did if it weren't for him... When I was a kid I didn't understand that rage I couldn't feel it, what he felt deep down inside, I didn't understand it at all... Not back then of course,