10 | the game of risk

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┏━━━━━ CHAPTER TEN  ━━━━━┓★゜・。。・゜゜・ the game of risk ──── Chicago Rhee

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┏━━━━━ CHAPTER TEN  ━━━━━┓
★゜・。。・゜゜・ the game of risk
──── Chicago Rhee



▌│█║▌║▌ ║▌║▌║█│▌

Surely goodness and mercy
will follow me
all the days of my life
through the valley, shawn james

▌│█║▌║▌ ║▌║▌║█│▌








THE REAPER HAD FINALLY COME FOR THE TAKING. Not with a scythe, idling on the ghostly shoulder in wait, but rather with a bony hand—outstretched and pressed against tender throats. The reaper in many books was quick, taking bodies with a snap of the finger. Yet the entity I was well acquainted with crept in the shadows of other people, siphoning life slowly and methodically as to savor the taste. It would feast for a short while then carry on, then come for more when the body was drained of any fight.

Tremors wracked Glenn's decrepit body and his hands gripped the fabric of my shirt weakly in obvious agony. Crimson blood tainted his bottom lip and when I got a deep glimpse of the rest of his face I noticed the yellowed whites in his eyes and the hint of irritation around the outer rim. Sweat clung to his body like syrup, the loose strands of hair slicked back against his forehead yet unruly from past uneasiness. His body weight fell into me, my shoulder burning from overexertion as I tried to guide him towards Cell Block A, where Hershel had set up quarantine for those infected.

"C'mon, you gotta help me some," I breathed. I attempted to shift how I was positioned—from the hunched curvature of my torso to a more relaxed one, but Glenn had surrendered to the sickness ravaging his body and made no effort to follow through with my pleas.

"You...you should go," Glenn mumbled weakly.

He fell away from me as his chest expanded before he let out a dry, empty cough. This time no blood coated his sleeve, but his mouth remained opened as if he couldn't quite catch his breath. I remember being extremely sick and having an itch at the back of my throat that never let me rest. Or the times when I coughed so violently for long succession that my mother would come into my room and sit on my bedside as I downed a glass of water. Her soothing touches always calmed me more than the water, especially with the way she would hum softly under her breath.

"Don't be like that," I scolded. "I'll be fine. This isn't the first time I've taken care of you."

"You don't want to feel like this, trust me," Glenn argued.

I sighed, "Too late for that now. Should've stepped back the moment Patrick died then. We've been exposed the same."

With bated breath, I realized we reached the end of the line. The doors into Cell Block A held an eerie aura, one that I didn't want to step foot into. I didn't want this for Glenn. I knew the moment he stepped behind the threshold I wouldn't be able to speak with him directly, and despite him being in positive care I found myself hopeless. I was giving my brother right into the hands of the reaper, praying that the entity would take mercy on him, just this once. Even if it was an ever-looming presence in the shadows.

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 || rick grimes (Rewritten)Where stories live. Discover now