The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

ninetyfour.

I'm sitting on the King's throne, legs kicked over the edge of the arm rest. Feeling the anxiety pumping through my veins, I bite my nails as I await for someone to send for Ezekiel. Old habits that I had thought were long gone have seemed to be turning their ugly heads. I'm about to possibly throw a wrench into his plans. I know he was looking forward to bringing everyone back together for the first time in years. I've heard stories through the grapevine of the communities growing distant with one another. Rick was the glue that kept us together. Now he's gone, and we have all returned to being strangers.

I run a hand through my hair; he disappeared knowing I was in danger, not able to see my rescue to the end. He never knew I eventually came back, safe and sound. As much as I love Daryl, I was also hoping to see Rick's face in that basement, too. That man has done so much for me the second our paths crossed. His loss has been weighing heavily on me ever since I heard the news of his presumable death. Though, it feels like The King filled the void he left behind. They both saved me in very scary moments of my life and brought me back from the edge. Like Rick, I owe my life to Ezekiel.

Charlee took off in a different direction the second we crossed through the gates, muttering something about needing a shower after seeing the dirty bald bitch not long ago. I can't say I blame her. I feel bugs crawl along my flesh when she's in my bubble. But something about her last words and the look in her eyes before leaving sits uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach.

We haven't seen the last of the freaks, I muse.

I smirk when the echos of the King's feet bounce off the walls; behind him I detect Carol's soft footfalls announcing their arrival. "My Phoenix!" He exclaims in greeting, approaching the stage. I roll my eyes and playfully groan at the nickname he's gifted me - it's certainly a contrasting  difference from Negan's title for me. "I'm told you bring news."

I glance at Carol watching me curiously from her position next to her husband. They look damn good together, I'll give them that. For some reason, they just make sense, and I'm elated that Carol found happiness in this world. We all deserve it, especially after everything we went through, before and after society has fallen. The King worships her, much to her dismay. She's not used to the affection and adoration he gives her. I can tell she still waits for him to get angry and lash out because it's what she's accustomed to, much like myself and not knowing how to respond to Daryl's love for me.

Sighing, I bring my legs back over from the arm rest, placing my feet firmly on the ground, leaning forward to face this duo head on, "unfortunately, it's not good news," I meet his gaze, observing him grow still, "we got new enemies. They wear the skin of the dead and walk among them." I bow my head, "they killed Jesus."

"Jesus is dead?" Carol gasps.

"I take it you've been to the other communities." Zeke comments. I mean, how else would I know? However, I know he's pointing out the painfully obvious elephant in the room - mostly everyone knows I'm alive.

"Rosita called, so I came." I meet his eyes once more, "I was there when he went down." I begin to retell the story starting from when I ran into Jesus and company on my way to hilltop, and ending it with my encounter with Alpha just hours before. I include the parts where Daryl and I worked together to attempt to get the hostage to speak, not coming back with much before she left with her mother.

However, we don't need to know much more. She gave us enough with the information of Alpha abusing and gaslighting her own daughter. I will approach her differently than I would The Governor and Negan. They liked to show their strength through violence. No, Alpha is more of a psychological warfare fighter than combative fighter. However, something deep inside my soul tells me that we will be facing down yet another war. I'm getting too old for this shit.