𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 ➳ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

Chapter 8 ~ Just Like Spaghetti

Needless to say, Negan stayed all day and all night at our house. It wasn't enjoyable for anyone present, either. Likewise, we didn't like the fact that he cooked in our kitchen. I could just see the furious look on Rick's face when he got back. But no, maybe he'd be madder that he missed Negan and Spencer's pool table game in the middle of the street. I shared a look with Carl as we watched from the porch of the house.

"Well, this should be interesting," I sighed, flopping down into one of the rocking chairs.

The wooden chair creaked as I rocked back and forth, my eyes glued to the the two men in the road. Carl sat down in the chair beside me and a sigh escaped his mouth, his bangs falling across his empty eye socket. The game went back and forth for a while before things began to escalate between Negan and Spencer, turning their "fun little game" into an exchange of blackmail.

"I get what you're trying to do here, what you're trying to build. I'm not saying I agree with your methods, but I get it. You're building a network. You're making people contribute for the greater good. It makes sense... But you should know that Rick Grimes has a history of not working well with others," Spencer began to speak, making me clench my jaw in anger.

Where was he going with this?

"Is that so?" Negan asked him, clearly unimpressed with that piece of information.

"Rick wasn't the original leader here. My mom was. She was doing a really good job of it. Then she died, not long after Rick showed up - same with my brother, same with my dad,"

I rolled my eyes, sharing a glance with Carl. This kid was an idiot. Rick had nothing to do with their deaths. In fact, none of us did! Olivia shifted from foot to foot as she watched from beside us.

"So, everything was peachy here for - what - years? And then Rick shows up, and suddenly, you're an orphan? That is the saddest story I've ever heard. Good thing for you - he's not in charge anymore," Negan said, shaking his head slightly as he watched Spencer take another shot.

"Doesn't matter. His ego's out of control. He'll find a way to mess things up, to try and do things his way, to take over. That's what he did with my mom. That's what he'll do again,"

My grip tightened on the armrests of the chair so hard that my knuckles turned white. Suddenly, a hand grabbed onto mine and pulled me to my feet so that I had now joined Carl at the railing of the porch along with Olivia. We gazed down at them and I felt Carl's fingers caress the back of my hand gently in a comforting manner.

"What exactly are you proposing be done about that?" Negan asked him finally, arching an eyebrow.

"I am my mother's son. I can be the leader she was," Spencer informed him, "That's what this place needs. That's what you need,"

I let out an audible scoff and Negan's eyes drifted up to me briefly, smirking before returning his gaze to Spencer, "So I should put you in charge - that's what you're saying?"

"We'd be much better off," Spencer agreed with a self-satisfied smile.

Negan took one last swig of the alcohol in his glass cup before setting it down on the pool table beside him.

"You know, I'm thinking, Spencer. I'm thinking how Rick threatened to kill me, how he clearly hates my guts. But he is out there right now, gathering stuff for me to make sure I don't hurt any of the fine people that live here," Negan began to say, walking around the table so that he was closer to Spencer, "He is swallowing his hate and getting stuff done. That takes guts,"

He leaned down to shoot another ball into the hole then before glancing back up, "And then there's you...the guy who waited for Rick to be gone so he could sneak over and talk to me to get me to do his dirty work, so he could take Rick's place. So I got to ask - if you wanna take over, why not just kill Rick yourself and just take over?"

"What? No, no. I didn't - I don't-" Spencer tripped over his words.

My eyebrows shot to my hairline and I almost chuckled at the sight of a stuttering Spencer.

"You know what I'm thinking? 'Cause I have a guess," Negan grinned before whispering just loud enough so that we could hear, "It's because you got no guts,"

He reared back then and in the blink of an eye, had driven a knife deep into Spencer's stomach. My dark eyes went wide as saucers just as Carl pushed me back behind him, his hand still holding on tightly to mine. Negan removed the knife then and Spencer's t-shirt and skin ripped apart, dark red intestines falling out of him like strings of spaghetti. Crimson blood spilled out across the pavement as Spencer briefly fell to his knees on the hard, cement ground before falling onto his side. My other hand flew to my mouth and I bit back a cry. Spencer's hands held onto his intestines, his eyes seeing but not believing what was happening.

"How embarrassing. There they are! They were inside you the whole time! You did have guts I've never been so wrong in my whole life!" Negan said loudly, grinning like a mad man.

He walked over slowly to the pool table then in that instant to grab Lucille, wielding her around like she was the most important thing to him. And in all actuality, she probably was.

"Now, someone oughta get up here and clean this mess up... Oh. Anyone want to finish the game?"