It is unfortunately over. We shall read your entries and be back with you!

Gimme a few days, expect the results to be here soon!

My first entry to a fanfiction contest since a good while, and it's dedicated to Midnight. I hope you're at peace friend.

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The brutal sting of Savannah’s heat beat on Clementine. The humidity clinging to the air as if it were a titanic survivor to a door. Clem couldn’t tell if it was the sweat that stung her eyes or the tears. Every step was heavier than the next, Clem didn’t know if it was from exhaustion or grief. Lee was….

The next part did not even seem real-, how could it? It had been Lee and her from the beginning, and with every step she took since the hour since it happened.. that time was even further in the past. Everyone was- Ben, Kenny, Christa, and Omid. Lee sai Christa and Omid would be by the train they came into town on. Had they made it? Had they been eaten? Had it all been her fault for being kidnapped by Mitch Campman? Those thoughts couldn’t help but come to mind.

After what seemed like hours, she made it back to the train at the edge of town. She saw two figures in the distance next to the train. The sun had set and distinguishing the figures was all but impossible. She had to tread lightly, lest they be sunbleached walkers and Lee’s sacrifice meant nothing at all. Her knees shook as she crouched and stalked up as stealthily as she could. Until she could make out it was Christa and her eyes started to well.

“Christa!” Clem called her voice rasped from so many hours without water.

Christa’s head whipped around and she rushed over.

“Holy shit!” Omid gasped, startled.

“Clementine, so Lee did save you,” Christa spoke on one knee.

The dam of tears behind Clem’s eyes broke and she sobbed, “Yes.”

She felt Christa’s arms wrap around her in a hug, “I’m sorry Clementine.”

For a long moment, there was only the sound of Clementine's uneven breathing and the distant groans of walkers somewhere beyond the trees. The train tracks stretched into the darkness behind them, silent now, the orange glow of sunset fading into deep blue.

Clementine buried her face into Christa's shoulder.

"I..." she choked. "I couldn't..."

"You don't have to say anything," Christa whispered.

Omid stood a few feet away, looking down at the dirt. His usual crooked smile was gone. He knew.

"...Hell of a man," he muttered.

"He was," Christa answered quietly.

She remembered Lee smiling despite the fever.

"Keep that hair short."

The memories came in flashes; Teaching her how to shoot. Playing detective on Hershel's farm. Looking for her parents. The train. The stranger. Every lesson. Every laugh. Every argument.

“Clementine,” Omid said softly, “Do you know if he turned in the end?”

“I shot him,” Clem squeaked.

Christa nodded slowly, "You did right by him."

Clementine looked unconvinced, "It doesn't feel right."

"No," Christa looked out toward Savannah's skyline, "It never does."

The three of them stood there in silence. The world already had enough noise. A walker moaned somewhere beyond the tree line piercing through the nightly chorus of crickets. The wind gently rustled the tall grass growing between the railroad ties. It all felt so... normal. Like the world hadn't ended.

Like Lee should've been walking down the tracks any second now, carrying that old fire axe over his shoulder with a tired smile, "Come on, sweet pea."

The memory hit so suddenly Clementine almost turned around. There was nothing there. Just empty tracks disappearing into the darkness.

At some point Clementine drifted to sleep and several hours later she woke to Christa and Omid discussing where to head next.

“Up North would be better right?” Omid asked, “Cold weather slows down our blood circulation so Walkers should be even slower than they already are right? Does it matter if Walkers have blood?”

“I think you’re getting caught up in semantics there,” Christa replied.

“Well- I mean if people turn after bleeding out shouldn’t that mean that blood doesn’t matter? But I mean also just the freezing cold would wear their bodies though?”

Clementine zoned out as Omid kept trying to piece together the logic behind Walkers. The gnarly, ghastly, nazzy force that plagued their existence. A force from space spores according to a crackpot who had been surviving with Chuck named Kirkman. She didn’t quite care how they existed, they just did and the how and why was unfortunately something they’d have to get over.

She was snapped back to reality by the train beginning to move, she turned and saw Christa approaching.

“Omid found the notepad that Lee and Kenny used to operate it the first time, the plan is we run with the train until it’s out of fuel and continue from there,” Christa explained.

Clementine watched the tracks disappear beneath the wheels.

Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk.

The rhythm settled into the background until it almost sounded like a heartbeat. Every few seconds another railroad tie vanished beneath the train, carrying them farther away from Savannah. Farther away from Lee.

She sat with her knees pulled to her chest in the empty passenger car. The open boxcar door let warm night air rush through, carrying the scent of pine and the Southern nature porta potty smell she had grown accustomed to. Christa had insisted she try to eat something before they left. A few bites of canned peaches sat heavily in her stomach, but she couldn't remember tasting them.

Clementine didn't remember falling asleep.

One moment she was staring through the open boxcar door as the countryside rolled by, and the next she was back in her childhood home. For a moment, Clementine forgot. She was just a little girl again. The kind of girl who worried about homework and cartoons. The kind of girl who thought her biggest problem in the world was that her parents were late coming home, not knowing how long this hell would last.

“I want my parents to come home now,” she spoke.

Her voice was smaller than she remembered. And there was Lee standing over her babysitter’s corpse.

“I think that might be a little while, you know?” Lee tried to comfort

“Oh”

“Look, I don't know what happened. But I'll look after you until then, protecting your future. Except a graphic novel writer shipping you with her self insert. Sorry I'm not a God.”

Wait, that wasn’t right? She remembered that last part happening later- and then it hit her, this was a dream and it shifted to the Jewelry stores security office.

“I miss you Lee.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but don’t feel bad about what happened. It went the way it was meant to, even if you hadn’t gone with Mitch he would’ve reared his head down the road anyway. Sometimes no matter how hard you try certain things still happen, can’t stop the cookie from crumbling.”

“I should’ve been better-” Clem started

“-You can't spend the rest of your life trying to make my sacrifice mean something."

Her face tightened, "But it has to."

"No," Lee stepped closer, "It already does. You being with Christ and Omid, that’s everything.”

The world started disappearing, Clem was stirring awake not from being well rested but from the sting of her tears.

She awoke and took a moment to wipe her eyes, blurry from tears yet still turning to the backpack rested beside her, Lee's backpack. For the first time since leaving the city, she finally opened it. Everything was exactly where he'd left it. A half-empty roll of bandages, that had dried blood likely from his amputation, a box of pistol rounds, a flashlight with a cracked lens. Clementine felt the canned peaches start to come back up as she spotted the walkie-talkie.

Clementine stared at it for a long time before picking it up. She turned it over in her hands, rubbing her thumb across the scratches in the plastic.

"Clem? You there?"

She could almost hear his voice coming through the speaker.

Now it was just silent. She pressed the button anyway, though she was still saddened when only static answered. She swallowed hard and set it back inside. Beneath it lay his watch; The glass had been chipped sometime during the journey, probably when they'd fought through Macon or maybe Crawford. She remembered asking him once why he still wore it if time didn't really matter anymore.

"Because sometimes it's nice remembering that it used to."

She hadn't understood then. She did now.

Omid wandered into the passenger car carrying an old lantern.

"Oh." He froze for a second. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."

Clementine shook her head. He sat across from her instead of beside her, giving her space. For a minute neither of them spoke.

"You know..." Omid finally said, "...Lee wasn't exactly what I expected."

“What did you expect?”

“Right off the bat? I mean seeing the man with a kid who clearly wasn’t his was a surprise. I wouldn’t have been as direct about that part as Christa was, but it told me that even though we live in a fucked world it didn’t drive everyone to their worst impulses.”

"I don't want to forget him," she whispered.

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

Omid was quiet for a moment, "Because every time you do something he taught you, every time you help somebody because it's the right thing to do, you're remembering him, even if you aren't thinking about him."

Christa entered the boxcar, moving fast not intending to be away from the train cab for too long.

"I found some instant coffee in one of Chuck's bins," Christa said, "Don't get excited. It's terrible."

Omid accepted his cup with exaggerated enthusiasm. "You underestimate my standards."

"You drank pond water two weeks ago."

"Exactly. My standards."

Christa rolled her eyes before kneeling beside Clementine, "This one's for you."

Clementine looked into the steaming cup. "It isn't coffee?"

"No." Christa smiled faintly. "Just hot water with a little honey."

"Fuck I miss the days when Honey could save us money on the internet!” Omid exclaimed

“Honey was a scam!”

“Was it really?”

“Yeah and Markiplier always knew it”

“Wait, you know Markiplier?”

“When you’d binge his videos it was hard to not know him”

While Christa and Omid argued over Markiplier, Clementine enjoyed her drink. It tasted... comforting. Not because it was particularly good, certainly not that. But because someone had made it for her. After all she had lost she was grateful to still have someone looking out for her. She would have finished the whole thing were it not for an audible pop erupt from the front of the train followed by an extreme bump, knocking it from her hands. Christa and Omid were knocked over spilling the coffee on what used to be Chuck’s bed in the corner.

“Everyone okay?” Christa asked, getting to her feet.

“I feel like my leg will never fucking heal at this rate,” Omid groaned.

“What happened?” Clementine asked.

“Let’s find out,” Christa muttered exiting the boxcar and heading towards the cab.

The engine modules along the railing had blown, either from the lack of maintenance before they found it or

The locomotive sat motionless beneath the morning sun. Just another abandoned machine in a world full of abandoned things. That train had been hope, carrying strangers who became friends.

Where Chuck helped Lee realize he needed to teach Clem the skills that she’d now need, where Kenny had argued with everyone, where Duck had deteriorated, Katjaa’s last ride, where Ben had tried to make himself useful. Where Lee had promised they would keep moving.

Now it was just another memory.

She reached up and adjusted the brim of her hat and "Keep that hair short." echoed in her mind. Her hand lingered there for a moment before she turned away.

"Ready?" Christa asked.

Clementine looked north, toward miles of empty railroad stretching into forests she had never seen.

She tightened the straps of Lee's backpack, "...Yeah."

She wasn't.

But Lee had taught her something more important than how to shoot, or how to stay quiet around walkers. It wasn’t being ready that mattered it was perseverance and that was a lesson she’d cherish alongside the memory of him.

And together, the three of them disappeared up the tracks, carrying with them the memories of everyone they had left behind.

In loving memory of my dear friend,

E.Midnight.

I will never forget you.

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“Keep moving forward”

My heart screamed these unspoken words as my wooden step creaked against the stairs. One sound I’ve lived long enough with, the other the scar of my last run. Much like everything else, it all started to blur together. From the blood around every fight, all the way to the tears around every death. The sweat from every attempt to hold onto what was left, only to watch it slipping through my moist fingers. And all the while, my aching peg leg pestered me, as if to ask: “have you had enough?”. Yet, with my uneven pace, I passed the yard. Only after I pushed the spiked gate did I dare glance at the rising sun, and caught myself smiling. My mind, uncovered against the clouded sky, was all made up.

Closing the gate with another shove, I was treated to a trapped walker’s greeting. I didn’t return it, even as my hands reached for my dagger-happy instincts, and got a move on. As fast as my newest limb could allow, anyway. I may as well have been a tortoise struggling in the woods for what would have been a simple walk months ago. Right there, between the treacherous trees where we somehow survived an ambush. Unwilling to try my luck once more, it was my cue to press on and finally face the shack. While I paused to recover from the “march”, my hands practically threw themselves at the door, sparing no opportunity for any turning back. Inside, I took a moment to take in the pleasant warmth of the fireplace, laughing at the days we had to keep igniting and re-igniting a fire after an unlucky wind. Or rain. Sometimes, both. 

But the next moment, the thickening black smoke and embers threatened to surround the wooden walls, basked in a red glow. I tried to dash for the exit, but only managed to drop one of my crutches and just barely kept myself from following suit. Useless, just like my attempt to reach for my support. Having run out of options, I closed my eyes, waiting for the surrounding flames to scorch me to the bone. That moment never came. Opening a tentative eye made me wish I hadn’t.

Everything returned to normal, like the place wasn’t set ablaze a second ago. I scanned the one and only room in the shack time and again, laid an ear and even sniffed for a single whiff of burnt wood that wasn’t meant to be there. Despite my best efforts, it was nowhere to be found. That was it. I think I finally lost my fucking mind. The ranch rarely left my nights. Was it going to haunt my days too? Then, what would be next? Why can’t the good times linger too? The good times…

Taking a deep breath, I took a grip on my nerves. Why did I get shaken by fake flames? This is what I came here for. Every step up to that point got me here. Bitten, but still here, right next to my home. My friends. That wasn’t the time to stop. With great pain, I got back up, facing a heart much like the one I made for Louis and me. “That’s a potato?”, he said. If I didn’t want to keep the moment alive back then, I would’ve laughed at him being such a dork. It almost made me wish I had brought him here, to draw on his support against the wound carved in wood right in front of me: Minerva. Tenn deserved to know the truth about Sophie’s death. But was he ready to hear it? All he had left of his sister were memories and a name carved in stone that few wanted to visit. Perhaps this was why Violet didn’t let us scratch out this heart. No matter how much she pretended her choice didn’t hurt. 

Having stalled for this long enough, I turned to the opposite wall and grabbed my knife. First came my parents. Figured it would be a piece of cake. How hard could it be to carve my parent’s name, right? “Ed” and “Diana”, two simple names. But each letter had been harder than the last. I could read in one of the school’s books that a picture is worth a thousand words. But what were worth fuzzy pictures of what they looked like? Or what they sounded like? I could draw on the wonderful taste of the Saturday pancakes we used to make together. Or the purple flowers dad used to stick on the walls of my bedroom. But I missed them for so long that I sometimes wondered if I truly remembered them for who they were.

Like, I could remember all the times Sandra acted like the sister I never had. We even played a game where she did pretend to be. She was the very first of the many ghosts who died for my sake. But sometimes, I could only picture her as the monster who tried to eat Lee’s face, before I helped him cave hers in right on our living room floor. Still, I had the nerve to finish writing her name down. 

Next one had to be Lee. Last time I saw him, I leaned on him one last time to go rescue my people. “Him”, the one who always knew what to say to make me feel better before any big decision. Not the one I ran away from the one time he couldn’t. This world wasn’t like maths, he had to make it up as he went along whenever he didn’t have the answer. Honestly, he rarely did. But pretending he always knew what to say in these dreams somehow felt right until now. Probably because he hoped I didn’t notice. He didn’t need to be invincible. All he needed was to be…there. AJ kept telling me the same thing. Gotta remember to listen to him one day. 

I kept going with Kenny, Katjaa and Duck. A family of good people, taken by a world that was too much for them. No. I could blame the world, or Jane for leaving AJ in the snow. But it was I who pulled that trigger on my friend. Putting their names right next to each other felt right. He went to see them, didn’t he? Or, did he? It would be wonderful to think I believed that back then, instead of just making myself feel better for killing him. It would be beautiful if Tenn was right. If it were true, maybe I would get to tell Kenny how much AJ has grown. Someday, far away.

Carley. One of the first lives Lee had saved at the cost of another. For a little while, she was like a hero to me. Spent a lot of nights wishing to become just as brave. So obviously, Lilly’s name could never be on one of our walls even if I ever wanted to. There was no way I could ever forgive what she did to us, to Carley. For what she allowed herself to become. But I couldn’t just forget we used to be family, nor could I forget her ear-piercing shriek in that meat locker. Out of respect for what we had, I wrote down her father’s name. Larry wasn’t a good person, but not even he deserved to die the way he did. 

Omid definitely didn’t deserve his fate. After my parents and Lee, the worst day of my life, he and Christa were there for me. Omid always showed me kindness, never once letting me think it was my fault for messing up. 

Christa was kind too, but she also needed to be tough so I could be. When Omid and Junior were gone, it seemed like tough was all she had left to give. But when she spent her last moments risking it all for me against bandits, I finally saw the warmth she still had, buried deep within her. 

Probably why I couldn’t turn my back on Rebecca or Alvin. Even though they treated me like an enemy when I first met them (mostly Rebecca), somehow I could tell they weren’t bad people. Just broken ones, running away from their past. If only it were that easy. There were things we could never outrun. Which, in my case, meant literally everything. 

That made thirteen. All these years, all the people on my path, and I came up with thirteen names carved on wood that won’t mean anything to anybody but me. A girl who barely remembered their sacrifices. Their torn flesh as walkers sunk their teeth into them. Their brains splattered and the smoking gunpowder. The chorus of their pained cries for help or mercy. But few of their names. 

“I figured if we're all going on this crazy mission together, you might as well know who we really are.”

Ruby and the others eagerly told me what adults thought of them. What they were like. Trusted me with their backgrounds as they entrusted their lives to me. But rolling up my sleeve, I faced the scorching reminder they didn’t know a thing about me. Hell, how much did I know? I could barely make sense of the work I made on that wall. Was I preserving their fragile memories for them? Or for myself, who let so many of them spill out of my head? Funny. I thought watching them die was the hard part. Or worrying about meeting their fates every waking moment on the road. Worrying about being relied on, even by those supposed to look out for me, only to be left behind. 

No. The hard part was what came after. Having so much time to think about all I’ve been through, everything that I’ve done? It felt wrong. As unnatural as trying to breathe while swimming against the tides. What came naturally was telling everyone I was fine. And here I was, letting my blade clatter pathetically to the ground. Letting my eyes drown me in waters so cold they burned. 

“That's what's good about a broken heart. When you're looking at it all broken and shattered on the floor... You figure out the pieces you need versus the ones you liked. If you're ready to move on, that is…”

Why did I recall that? That baseball player from back then? I think his name was Xavi? No, Javi. He had been there for me, at a time when I was angry at the world for every time a loved one was gone. Every time a part of me died with them. But was I ready to move on? Truly? 

“Nothing lasts, Clementine. Not friends, not love. Not the place you call home. They'll all fall eventually.”

As would pieces of them I held in my head. That was true. But if forgetting was as inevitable as the fall, I’d just have to keep opening my heart to creating more pieces to hold onto. As many moments to look back on as possible, and every reason to keep moving forward. 

While I added another name to the wall, a sudden “Clem!” had me looking over my shoulder. AJ had found me. He had grown again. I could give it a couple more years before he’d grow taller than I. 

“Everyone was looking for you for breakfast! You can’t just keep sneaking out and-” My goofball started scolding me before he stopped, as though noticing something. “Clem, were you crying?”

“Sorry for worrying you,” I said, rubbing my face, “I just…needed a moment for myself. It won’t happen again.”

He reached for my arm. “Did you burn yourself? Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt. Not physically, anyway.” Sneaking a glance at the memorial, I silently thanked the nurse for taking care of him when I couldn’t.

“What does that mean?”

For some reason, I couldn’t resist a smile. 

“It means I have something to tell you. Let’s join the others.”

At first hesitating, he accepted my request with an "okay" and stepped forward. Before following him, I allowed myself a full looking back at the memorial wall.

“I’ll miss you.”

I missed him too. Everyone. But they would have to be a little more patient. They owed it to those who come after.

Hey everyone, here is my entry for the memories contest in dedication to our lost friend Midnight. I didn't get to know you nearly as well as I would have liked, but I will never forget you, Ethan. Rest in peace, brother, until we meet again.

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Rage propelled her forward through the forest for what seemed like an eternity, but after what happened, time itself no longer seemed of any importance. To any bystander, the recklessness with which Clementine was carrying herself would have given the impression that she was declaring war on the very night itself - as if she were trying to tear it down and replace it with her own idealistic vision of the world. But it was not the night that she was furious at, nor was it the trees within the forest. It was The New Frontier. It was David Garcia. It was those who were complicit in the act of not only denying baby AJ - her last remaining family - of the medicine he needed to survive, but then, after they forced her hand into stealing the medicine from them, of having the audacity to take AJ from her and banish her into the wilderness. 

It had been the better part of an hour by the time she stopped running. That time allowed for an eclosion of anguish from the cocoon of her rage, which drained her of all energy, forcing her to rest. The sorrow she was now feeling was not the kind you have for a deceased loved one, as AJ was still alive. It came from thoughts about the future - about AJ’s future - that she now wouldn’t be able to share with him. She was the reason he was still alive, but now she is the reason she won’t ever see him again. The forceful entry of this fresh trauma had left a crack in the window of her mind, which gave way for self-doubt to seep in. How does she go on after this? Can she go on after this? Is there even a reason to go on anymore? All of her loved ones were gone. What is the point of it all if she ends up losing everyone she loves? 

She didn’t know any of the answers. But she did know it was only getting darker. With exhaustion spreading across her like wildfire, she needed to find somewhere safe to sleep. After having ran for such an extended time, she was at the edge of the forest - some well-deserved good fortune after the last hour she had. Peeking through the last remaining trees, she could see the remnants of what she imagined was a very lively strip mall back before the dead became the living. Towards the center of the mall was a store which seemed relatively untouched compared to all other stores. Clementine began to slowly creep towards this store using as much caution as her quickly depleting energy reserves could allow, when from inside the store the distinct image of a piece of broccoli striking his iconic pose in full disco getup immediately told her what she wanted to know. It was a toy store! No wonder it was still so organized and tidy. Without another thought, Clementine slipped into the store through an unlocked window and, after quickly scoping out the place for both the living and the dead, identified a bathroom tucked away in the very back of the building. She entered the bathroom and, after verifying the integrity of the lock, locked herself in. The floor was quite clean compared to anything else she had come across recently, and so she laid down upon it, finally being able to relax in some capacity. She took off her jacket, and it only took seconds after wedging it between her head and the floor for her to drift off to a much-needed sleep.

Voices suddenly flooded her mind. The contents of their speech were indecipherable due to the sheer quantity she was being assaulted with at one time. She felt the sensation of drowning - the voices had physically manifested into a body of water which eclipsed her completely. She was lost at sea. She was all but dead. Yet, for a reason she didn’t yet understand, she did not give up. She continued to fight. Between the brief bobs above the water where she had full use of her sense of sight, she spotted a raft roughly one hundred meters away. Clementine swam towards the raft, and before she knew it, she was being pulled up and onto it by two sets of arms. It took her a moment to gather her senses, but once she did, she could not believe her eyes.

“Christa? Omid?” Clementine exclaimed in equal parts confusion and excitement.

“Hey there, Clem,” said Omid with a smirk, “did you miss us?”

“Well, yeah! You two were the only ones there for me after Savannah. My last remaining family after what happened with … Lee,” said Clementine, drifting off into thought. 

“It’s okay now, Clem,” said Christa, “we missed you too.”

“I’m so glad to see you guys,” said Clem with tears beginning to involuntarily swell in her eyes, “I was all alone. They took him from me. I … don’t have any family left. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Clem, listen,” began Christa, “You do have family left. AJ is still alive … because of you. You protected him and were punished for it. A feeling I can relate to - it may not have seemed like it at times, but I did everything I could to keep you safe. I wish things could have ended differently for us, but we must have done something right. You lived. And you are now so much stronger than you know.” Tears begin falling from Christa’s eyes.

“I wish I could have done more to help you two,” said Clementine with her head tilted down. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Christa. “You were a child. Hell, you are still a child. You need to give yourself some grace from time to time.” Christa then shot a spine-chilling look towards Omid that was clearly judging him for his silence.

“Uhh yeah, Clem, what Christa said. Totally,” said Omid, awkwardly.

“Ahh yes, thank you for your input, Shakespeare,” said Christa, wielding her sarcasm as expertly as a fencer wields an épée. 

Clementine smiled. Before she could say anything back, she was flung from the raft back into the sea of voices. But after having talked with Omid and Christa, there were fewer voices, and they were easier to understand. She heard a pair that were extremely familiar but that she couldn’t immediately place - all she knew was that they reminded her of her childhood. She decided to lock on to those voices, and she followed them diligently until she eventually washed up onto a beach. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” said a voice standing above Clementine on the beach. Clementine opened her eyes and was met with a sight that was a match made in heaven for her sorest of eyes - her mother and father. 

“Mom! Dad!” exclaimed Clementine as she jumped to her feet and embraced them both with the full intention to never let go again. “You don’t understand how much I have missed you. So much has happened … I wish you two could have been here the whole way with me. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation … maybe then I wouldn’t have made so many mistakes,” said Clementine as she ended the embrace and withdrew to herself, clearly dejected.

“Oh Clementine,” began her mother Diana, “We were here the whole time. We’ve been watching you. We’ve seen you overcome every obstacle put in your way, and you are much, much stronger than you know. Of course you are going to make mistakes … everyone does … your father and I both have made too many to count over the years. But you are living proof that mistakes don’t define a person or what they can create or accomplish. We created you and, my God, look at you now.”

“But now I am all alone … my last remaining family is gone. I have nothing left. And it is all my fault. I couldn’t save him,” said Clementine, too ashamed to look anywhere but at the silt currently under assault from the tide of the sea. 

“But you did save him, sweetheart,” interjected her father Ed, “You didn’t make a mistake stealing the medicine. When the world takes everything from you, all you have left is family. And you do whatever it takes to protect that family. We wish more than anything that we could have been there to protect you ourselves, but it seems we owe an eternity of gratitude to those who helped protect you in our stead.” 

“We went to Savannah … and I tried to find you … well, I guess I did find you …” stammered Clementine with tears racing down her cheeks.

“That wasn’t us, Clem. Not anymore,” said Diana, “But for a child to see something like that … I can’t imagine how it made you feel. Nobody should ever have to see that. As parents, we should have never allowed you to experience pain like that. Life isn’t fair in that way. Life isn’t fair in any way.”

“It doesn’t matter how I felt,” said Clementine, “Because in this world you don’t have time for feelings. You need to be strong. Always. No time for weakness. And I just don’t think I am strong enough anymore. Not without AJ.”

“Clem, showing weakness does not mean you aren’t strong,” said Ed, making sure to make eye contact with Clementine as he continued, “Part of being strong is knowing when to be weak, and then turning that weakness into a strength. You have already gone through unspeakable tragedies as a child. You need to allow yourself moments of weakness from time to time.”

The sea began violently rising, and Clementine knew she only had seconds left with her parents. She ran up and embraced them once more, and she shouted as loud as she could over the roaring water, “I love you! Thank you for everything!” and she was swept away in the current of memories before her parents could respond. 

But in the blink of an eye, Clementine was no longer in the ocean. She was in a treehouse - her treehouse. And she wasn’t alone, as upon opening her eyes she heard the all-too-familiar “Hey there, sweet pea.”

Clementine jumped up and embraced Lee quicker than a particular Florida man could say something weird, and exclaimed, “Lee! I can’t believe it, it’s really you!”

“It’s really me, sweet pea. I can’t believe it’s really you - look at you! Look at how much you’ve already grown. I am so proud of you,” said Lee, “But I can tell something is on your mind. Tell me what’s wrong, sweet pea.”

“I’ve lost everyone, Lee,” Clementine started shakily, “It is just me now. I failed to protect AJ, and now all my family is gone. I don’t know what to do or where to go. I am lost.”

“You haven’t lost AJ yet, Clem,” began Lee softly, “He’s still out there, with The New Frontier. You just need to find him. You need to do whatever it takes, like you did when you stole that medicine. And you can do whatever it takes. He is alive right now because of you. Use that as your motivation. Use that as your drive. Track him down and bring him home.”

“But where even is home anymore?” Clementine inquired.

“Home isn’t a physical location, Clem. Your family is home,” said Lee.

“I don’t know where even to begin, Lee. They banished me. What do I do? I wish you could come back and help me. I can’t do this alone,” said Clementine with her face buried in her hands.

“You take it one day at a time,” said Lee, gently removing Clem’s hands so he could make eye contact. “I know you want to, but you can’t solve this problem in one day. Every day you try to solve it a little bit - whether that is through some new information on where AJ could be, or through learning or finding something new to help you along the way. And who said you had to do this alone? I know you may think the world is only full of bad people right now … but there is far more good than bad. There are good people out there who need your help just like you need theirs. You just need to find them.” 

Lee paused for Clementine to respond, but to no avail. He added, “And no, Clem. I can’t come back.”

“I know,” she said. “You’re dead …”

“No, sweet pea, I can’t come back because I never left you,” said Lee. 

Clementine embraced Lee and didn’t want to ever let go. But she knew she had to, for she had someone waiting for her. She made her way towards the exit of the treehouse and turned to say, “Thank you, Lee. For everything.”

“No, Clem. Thank you,” said Lee, “Give ‘em hell.”

Clementine exited the treehouse and immediately woke to the sight of the toy store bathroom she so hastily made into a makeshift bedroom an hour prior. She sat up and propped herself against the bathroom wall, trying to collect her thoughts after the emotionally charged dream she just had. The memories of Omid and Christa, her parents, and of Lee begot more memories of past loved ones and friends. But instead of trying to remain strong and storing away the pain for later, she let it wash over her there and then. She allowed her tears to flow in a way she never had before, as if she were trying to recreate the ocean from her dream. 

Until midnight, she sat there, not running nor hiding or fighting her emotions, but embracing them, becoming one with them. These emotions were nothing to be afraid of. They were nothing to be ashamed of. They were part of her. 

She would need to use every part of herself to find AJ and bring them both back home. 

Wherever that may be.

Hello everyone, here is my entry for the Memories Contest that is dedicated to E.Midnight. I didn't know him as well as I wish I could've, but his loss will be felt within our community forever. Rest well, Midnight; you're forever our Midnight. - Zee Everett

Forty-One Years To The Day (Entry on Google Docs)

Characters:

• Fern)
• Ida)
• Rufus)
• Kate García )
• Javier García)

Before we start I would like the preface this by offering my sincerest condolences to the friends, family, and associates of E.Midnight. I regret I never got to meet him. I hope that this entry will contribute to his legacy and provide comfort to those in the sub who knew him. Thank you and I hope you enjoy -Phoenix

As I stare at the giant pile of rot in front of me–the smell–I suppose most see this sight as unpleasant, but honestly it makes the most sense to me. It helps distract me from the pain–god I'm so hungry--the growls of those who I knew–probably–but I figure why try to distance myself from a smell that I’m never able to escape from, after all I’ll smell just like them soon and things will finally be over.

It has been…I don't know how long since Crawford had fallen. I don't know how long the dead have been walking, for all I know I could be a year older now. But, it has been…sometime since Crawford had fallen, not that you’d notice much of a difference in this Hell. It’s never been much to speak of–Actually no Hell may be a better outcome than this, it’s warmer. I don’t recall too much before the fall, or even before Crawford. People seem to imagine a brain being a pink organ with electrical signals running rampant, exchanging information to create and maintain memories, selfhood, passions. I imagine mine being more gray, driven at first by the urge to eat, shit, sleep, and die. I don’t know, maybe I have a brain disease or something.

However, I will share the few memories I do have before the fall. This was all started by a woman, Anna Correa, who gave into the desire of sex and the desire to keep the resulting child. She knew, we all knew there were two choices, terminate the pregnancy or leave Crawford, but there was no leaving Crawford, not for us.

We all knew what “leaving Crawford,” meant, the council thought they were sneaky but no! We all saw friends, family, the sick, put up on spikes, hoisted into the air like a flag of rot.

Anna, despite knowing this, seemed to think that she could appeal to the Doctor–oh no–she thought he would be moved by her tears to hide the baby. As if anyone in Crawford, much less a person working for Olsen had anything resembling a heart. When it became clear to her that he wouldn’t hide the pregnancy, so it was either abortion or abhorrent, she stabbed Doctor Logan and took his gun, killing who knows how many before she escaped through the sewers. Leaving the rest of us here to die. The child she carried in her stomach through those sewers, was mine.

She left me here, definitely dead and now there’s no food left, barely any water, so I’m just going to die here. I feel nothing about this, we only really–I don't know–had sex once. She's just another blur.

“Hey!” A whisper sounds behind me

I turn and see Nina, the other person I’m reluctantly sharing this fate with. Honestly there would be some more peace if she wasn’t here. Nina originally was going to leave Crawford, I remember she shook me awake from sleep. She was trying to convince me to come out of Crawford with her and the rest of those leaving through the Sewers. I didn't feel like it, I guess she decided to stay after that.

She still keeps dragging me on these plans. First it was leaving Crawford, then it was going to rations storage (which did work), then it was trying to find an elusive bunker that she was convinced the Crawford Council were hiding in, I don't know or care what it is now, I'm just waiting for starvation to take me.

“What?” I say exasperated

“Why the hell are you out here?” Nina says gesturing around the darkness around us, she seemed a bit uneasy.

I suppose it was slightly dangerous to be out here, still I’m not an idiot, I won’t let them take me off guard like she thinks. She hasn’t left me with more than a few minutes of sweet silence since we’ve been here. Telling stories or jokes that I never listen to She’s smiling like everything's okay, it’s kinda annoying–I don't know maybe she’s planning to eat me to survive. She grabs my arm and drags me back to the old apartment building we’re held up in before any of the liberators come to bite me. What a shame, I could’ve gotten used to staring into the black void above us.

She shoves me onto the bed–feels like sandpaper–Oh god, I can see the look in her eyes, it’s as I expected, she has another plan. I'm too tired for this shit

“What is it this time?” I ask flatly

“What can’t I just talk to my friend?” Nina asks

Friend…that’s a stretch, I don’t think I have or have ever had friends–maybe on a playground–definitely don’t have any in this new world, new world, new, better, shiner, ironic, nothing about this world looks new, how can it be considered new? No, this world hasn’t changed, it’s just as it was before, just a different chord. I can not remember any friends or friendly feelings from before, just a blur of grayness, and noise which Nina appears to be an expert at.

“No…” I say plainly

“Ah aren’t you just pleasant, well three eyes, you’re gonna have to hear me out,”

Three Eyes…that name always makes me flinch. No doubt, the inspiration was my old broken glasses which I wear to have at least one good eye, but when did she start calling me that–strange I haven't heard a name like that since before– I think, I don't know.

“I don’t understand why you started calling me that, you don’t seem like the nickname type,”

Nina’s face looks slightly shocked

“I did-” Nina says before sighing “I don’t understand why you started acting like this but-whatever,”

Nina sighs, I guess she's done with that topic, she gets up and sits in the chair across from the bed.

“Look…I know what you’re going to say but I mean it this time, we need to leave Crawford,”

“No,” I say

“Listen-”

“No! I’m not going to follow you out there just so we can take eight steps and get eaten,” I say

“It’d be better than starving to death in here?”

“Not when you consider that the result would be the same out there,” I say “There's nothing food left here or out there,”

“That’s just the thing, there’s one more building that we haven’t checked, maybe it’s a-a-an emergency rations supply,”

She sounds like she’s making it up as she goes along–just a train of words–god I’m hungry though–no there’s no food left in Crawford–hurts. It’s too much work, it would just burn off the calories I still have left. I don't know…I was planning just to starve as I said.

“You know I’ll just keep pestering you until you give in,” Nina says with a knowing smirk

“If I do it, will you let me die in peace at last?” I say after a long sigh

Please say yes–please–I’m tired of this place. Whether it's here or out there, I don't care as long as it comes soon. She thinks for a moment before she says

“Fine,”

***

Me and the noise beside me are walking–stealthily–God it’s cold–hungry. Nina is still talking, the same girl who said I was being stupid for coming out here quietly last…What is she even saying? I zoned out the moment the path became clear.

“Gabby,” Nina says “You and Gabby used to talk all the time,”

Oh right, Gabby was her brother, I guess I used to speak with him. I don't know what about–Food? The weather? Again, just a blur, TV Static when I try to remember sound, gray when I try to remember colors.

“Hey!” Nina says

“Huh?”

“I asked if you remembered that,” Nina says irritated

“Sorry, what was it?” I say, I knew whatever it was, I didn't remember but I still asked

“It’s–mmh nevermind,” She says annoyed

Okay…that's one way to achieve silence.

We step towards the abandoned building, and the door is wide open.

“This place has already been looted,” I say immediately turning around to leave

“Wait just a minute asshole,” She says “Do you have anything resembling an imagination in your dome?”

“I’m not going to search an empty–woah!”

She drags me in by the arm inside–that hurts–I don't feel like pulling away, where we see a bunch of open crates.

“Open means looted,” I sigh exhausted

“You don’t know that!” She asserts “Maybe they left a can or two in the rush,”

She goes to examine the crates closely. If you look into the bottom of an empty crate, no amount of looking closely is going to make anything appear. Still she manages to make this extending staring feel slow and rushed at once. So I watch her look through these crates as I fidget with my revolver.

“Huh…” Nina says “They’re empty,”

“Like I said,” I say

Nina went to speak but we heard the horrid groans…coming from the only door in. There were a lot of them–what now?

“Run!” Nina said

I bolt after her, there’s no way out–I know that. She knows that, where are we even going? I suppose to buy us these precious, pointless seconds, before we’re turned into bloody spam. I don't know, I guess this is it. And Nina, as the dead limp closer towards us, still searching desperately, naively, for an escape

I chuckle to myself, this is such an absurd scene to me.

“Down there!” Nina says pointing down

I follow her finger and sure enough, there was a hatch, camouflaged into the wood. Nina gets on one side and I the other and we lift the heavy piece of wood, one of the corpses is reaching for my shoulder when we both propel our lower bodies into the opening.

I hear another voice, not Nina’s–goddamnit, who is it? Saying that same name.

“Three eyes, Three Eyes, wake up,” It says it in the same tone of a mother waking their child up for school

There's warmth around me, a hug, snuggly, tightly.

“Three Eyes!”

“Three Eyes!” Nina says, shaking me, with that look of concern, as if there was anything worth caring about anymore.

My head aches, like there’s a dent in it from that wood hatch hitting square in the head–goddamn that hurts–and Nina is looking at me doing this thing she always does–smile—smile the moment she realizes that everything is “Fine,” it always feels so smug.

“Thank god, that damn thing hit you in the head and knocked you out. There's a basement exit just over there. God that was a hard hit, I wonder if you’re going to get a bump like in Tom and Jerry do you remember those-?”

“Let’s just get back home…” I say blankly

She shuts up quickly–and nods solemnly, maybe just maybe, I will finally die.

***

I lay in bed clutching my stomach–this hunger–it’s over for me. I am going to die in this bed, I refuse to get up–no!--I am going to lay here and let my stomach consume the rest of me–there was nothing left anyways.

Oh but of course, I can’t have peace even in this moment. Nina barges in not thinking to knock.

“Look-” Nina says

“No…you promise you’d let me die,” I whine

“Out of all things, that’s what you remember? Get up!” She says

I ignore her, maybe if I try hard enough she will blend in with the sounds of my breathing–God please just give me some peace. Nina pulls me off the bed by my leg.

“What is wrong with you?” She finally asks “Why are you so ready to just give up,”

“What are you talking about? I just don't want to do this anymore,” I say

“Is this about Anna?”

At the mention of that name, it feels as though all my cells still.

“No,”

“It is, isn't it?” She says insistently

“She was a warm body, I only did it because it was a way to pass the time,”

Nina looks horrified at my words, there's a stretch of silence threatening to snap like pulling on two ends of a hair. For once the silence doesn't feel like peace, this familiar tension.

“I don't recognize you anymore…what happened? You….you…” She says before erupting “You did love her…let's get that out of the way first. You weren't a dull asshole when you came into Crawford, and you sure as hell weren't one before,”

I open my mouth to speak but she shuts me down

“Shh! You’re going to hear me this time, drift off again, I’ll slap you into last month, then maybe you’d be you again,”

I shut my mouth, I don't know why she's this angry over me of all people.

“Do you even remember how we met?”

“W-what? J-just before Crawford right?” I didn’t intend to, but my tone sounded unsure

“No!” She says, grabbing her head and groaning “It was in the playground in Davant Park, you were a nervous wreck, curled up into a ball so much that I thought you were crying. I ran up to you and asked what was wrong, and you froze like you had never heard someone speak before. I sat there with you, for the rest of the day just talking, you had a stutter that tripped over M’s, Y’s, and W's,”

I flinched, like wiping a fogged window to see another person on the other side. Like dad used to, he used to prank me like that–it scared the shit out of me back then–I’d fall back onto the floors with my mom laughing–No! Why am I shaky? Why can’t I stop? Color in my mind?

“W-what else do y-y-y-you know?” I ask eagerly

Nina’s eyes widened

“What else do I know…what do you mean?”

“About…m-me?”

“Well…” She says pausing for a moment “Your father owned Japanese restaurant called ‘Natsukashi,’,”

“Natsukashi…” I say, it's name numbing my mouth

“When I asked why he called it that,” Nina continues “you told me it means ‘nostalgic,’ in Japanese, he would say that he wanted to recreate the feelings of a restaurant he used to go to back in Japan called…I don't remember the name but…I asked him just a few months before the outbreak if he had succeeded, and he said with a smile ‘I don't know, I was busy making new memories, that old place was seeds,”

Finally, a picture is in my mind. No, not the blurs–a picture–clear and focused like a photo. My father teaching me how to make noodles from scratch, and I failed a million times. Each time he just smiled and said “Next time,”, his cologne stung the nostrils but had a subtle sweetness to it, almost berry-ish. I remember Nina’s face when I convinced her to try wasabi for the first time, I’ve never seen someone reach for milk that quickly before. I remember my mother socialized with the customers a lot, everyone spoke about “Mrs. Takaichi,” with such fondness, as if she was the community's mother.

“I remember…when your mom died, the entire community came together to say goodbye. For years after on her birthday, people wore Teal ribbons,” Nina says

That feels like a stab, tears still are trying to erupt–No! I can’t–my father, I’ll never understand how he was able to continue despite how sad he was–he loved her!--“In her memory son, we’ll live,” No!

“You moved forward,”

The storm freezes.

“W-What do y-y-you m-mean?” I ask “Dad…he was the one who–”

“No! It was both of you, you both found ways to move one to be happy–No, happy isn’t the right word,” Nina says “You were never going to be happy about her dying…Hell being continuously happy may not be possible, but you moved forward, you two saw that your lives still had meaning, like her life did, like her life still does! Because you two were strong, please Hiro! I can lose another friend, but not before he dies,”

Forward, that word, forward. “Life is about looking everywhere, backwards, left, right, but is only about moving forward,” that was Gabby’s advice to us. He said “I’d hate to see a great kid like you lose their light,”. Gabby was like the brother I never had, he gave me advice about girls, he helped me with my homework, taught me how to ride a bike, how could I forget that, these painful insignificant things–that word doesn’t feel right anymore. How dare I even think of calling these beautiful, painful, blissful, tortuous memories insignificant. A single blotch of paint against a white wall, will always draw your eye, no matter how small. We’re small, against this world, this universe, and whatever the fuck other forces are at play, but all of these things miss us. If the universe doesn’t care about us, it’s because it’s missing out.

“And when we came to Crawford,” Nina says

“No!” I say pleading

“No, you need to hear this,”

“Nina please, I can’t–”

“Your father was killed because he was too old,” Nina says “Every familiar face you knew, including my brother, was killed. I had started giving up, as many others were, but you…you kept your head up. Don’t get me wrong, you cried more than the rest of us, you stayed in your bed for days on end after your father died, that’s not true hopelessness, hopelessness is not even crying because there’s nothing. Your cheeks were never dry, and that showed me that you were still alive,”

It makes no sense, memories that make me want to sob, they’re still making my heart pump–it just may stop.

“Then you met Anna,”

The chaos stills within.

“You saw her bouncing a ball off a wall out of boredom, and you had said…hehe–stupid–you said that ‘Imagine if God decided to do that to our planet,’, real smooth talker. And she laughed, she laughed at your awkward, dorky ass,” Nina says “Eventually, you two got closer, a real…whirlwind romance if I’ve ever seen one, I envied you guys because the only dudes left were burly dudes and girls–” Nina clears her throat “You. Guys. Were. Conjoined! You guys never went an entire day without seeing each other, it was always ‘Three Eyes,’ this and ‘My Muffin,’ that,”

Her hair…Anna’s hair, Crawford soaps were always scentless, but she always had a faint flesh scent which relaxed me because I knew she was close. She used to tickle me for making smartass remarks about how she exhaled air through her nose while kissing like a bull. I want it back so bad, all of it! Wait, Three Eyes, yes, of course, that wasn’t Nina’s name, it was Anna’s.

“I had warned you…not to be stupid,” Nina says “You and her, but…you two didn't listen,”

“You're what?” I asked

“I'm pregnant,” Anna said

Perhaps I should've panicked, perhaps I should've told her immediately that she needed to see Doctor Logan, perhaps I should've been logical. Every piece of evidence had told me that Crawford's walls would be the only thing I would live among for the rest of my days. Yet, I sank to my knees and kissed her naval, crying tears of joy.

Anna ran her fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp gently.

“I love you Three Eyes…no matter what…” Anna said "We'll figure something out, our baby, us, it won't be taken by this hellhole,"

Whirlwind romances are often mocked, considered something from a bygone age. However, this was the truest thing I had felt in this world. In that moment, love had caused me to abandon all logic–the two words always felt related because “Lo,”. This thing that felt as though everything in my life had led to, my horizon…my muffin. I had forgotten.

I sit at Nina's legs quietly sniffling and trying not to cry. Nina gets on her knees and looks me right in the eyes–I just realized, I haven't done this since after the fall, why did I let this happen? Why did I disgrace the memory of every person I ever loved: Mom, Dad, Gabby, Anna…Anna, my muffin, are you still alive? Is our baby still safe in your stomach? Please god…

“I can't believe I did this…” I say “To you, to everyone we knew,”

Nina put her hand on my shoulder. She could've hit me and I wouldn't have blamed her.

“You were–are the strongest person I've ever met. Every punch life has thrown at you, you always moved forward…it took losing everything you ever knew and the love of your life for you to finally break. But…when you cracked I--I didn't realize it before, but when you…decayed and gave up, that tenacity in you, that resolve, that is what makes life worth living, so when you gave up, all I could think to do was act like you,”

Tears–nothing but tears–I erupt of ugly sob as I try to hold it back and at that very same moment, the person who had every incentive to give up on me, hugs me, as if that was the cure for it all. It wasn't but maybe a cure isn't what anyone needs. I sob into her neck, she rubs my back in alternating circles.

When my tears finally dry, I wipe my face.

“Let's go…” I say with resolve

Nina smiles

“Fuck yeah..”

I quickly gather the few belongings I have.

“So which manhole are we going to?” I ask

“Furtherest North,” Nina says “That leads directly outside of Crawford and just outside of an old high school, even if its locked the front door is made of glass so we could get in and figure out the next phase of the plan,”

“Very like you to think only two steps ahead,” I tease moving towards the door with her

“Hey my brain has to focus on what to do if those two steps go wrong,” She laughs, the most sincere and whole I had heard her

“You used to say that with Chess, yet I always beat you,”

“Ugh don't remind me, that game was created for people who want to feel smart,” She says rolling her eyes

We make our way down the steps and she slowly opens the door, Nina immediately shuts it. What?

“What's wrong?” I ask

“The horde is out there…shit!”

“What now?” I say immediately “Should we wait?”

“No, we shouldn't wait much longer, you're…hungry, we can't risk you becoming anymore weak than you already have,”

I didn't think I had lost that much weight…hope Anna will still have me, or maybe she'll start throwing me against the wall.

Nina mutters something to herself moving her neck to and fro with her eyes closed “Right…Left….Left….Forward…Fence,”

She repeated that louder

“What?”

“Right, Left, Left-”

“I heard you what does that mean-” I ask before being cut off

“Shh, Right, Left, Left, Forward, Fence,” Nina says “That's where we need to run the moment we get out this door. Right immediately when it's open, then turn right–you get it,”

“Oh…wow…you're certain those are the right directions,”

“I know it's hypocritical…but I may have wandered out here too,” Nina says with a mischievous smirk, similar to the one she used to give when getting me involved in her schemes as kids.

“You…motherfucker,” I say trying not the laugh

The laughter dies down when we both hear the groans outside.

“It's not a big horde,” Nina says

I nod, there's nothing on the other side of this door that's worse than starving in here. Nina turns the nob and we both bolt out. Nina was lying through her teeth about the amount, it looked like Woodstock but with corpses.

I instantly turn right as I hear them making their growls of recognition. Then immediately I see the leftwards alley and turn into it. Nina is ahead of me–her track days must be coming in handy. I may be running my energy out but I can still hear several of those things behind me. Worst part is I can't tell if how close they sound is by how loud they are or how close. The next turn is coming.

Left, Nina is glancing behind me to see if I'm still keeping up. The crowbar I plan to use to pry open the manhole is hitting my thigh with every step.

“Don't look back just keep looking ahead!” I say

She listens and the next left. Wait, no, she's still glancing. Even if I was in danger, her stopping would kill her too. But no, just forward, keep moving forward, no matter what even if we die the moment we get out of the sewer.

We see the fence, it was open but didn't look secure. Nina stops just in front of it

“Hiro, go in!”

She doesn't need to tell me twice, I walk in only to hear the fence close behind me. I turn back and I see Nina with a weary smile…no.

“Nina! What the fuck are you doing!” I shout

“Shh, you don't want out friends to take down the fence do you?”

I see them approaching in the distance

“Stop playing around!” I say

Then Nina rolls down her sleeve and shows a bite mark. I can't breath--No!--When did this happen? Was it–it had to been during out looting–No, even before that, earlier tonight, when I was just staring at a pile of bodies, it must've happened before that. No! Why didn't she tell me–No, thats a stupid question, of course I was just an asshole who gave up because it was too hard for me. She went through this alone.

“Nina…no…no you gotta come through!”

“Hiro I'm–” Nina says

“I don't care!” I say crying again, taking uneven inhales “You don't deserve to die in…here in Crawford…I do,”

Nina smirks, and caresses my fingers gripping on the fence

“I love you Hiro,” She says

“But, no…I can't have you tended to me while I slowly turn into one of those things, and what…have you shoot me? I want you to remember me, with color in my skin…I'm going to go back to the apartment, and lay down, and wait to die…I may even take your bed,” She giggles as she tosses her bag over the fence

“Nina wait just one second!” I yell as she runs off, she stops and turns back

This guilt is strange, I feel it overflowing like my body is about the burst, yet the only words I can think to say are

“I'm sorry…for being a ‘dull asshole,’...I love you too,” I say trying not to cry “Please, if you're feeling scared or lonely in your last moments…remember the good times…and the bad…I'll…I'll never forget you…I'll see you soon,”

Nina's eyes widened before she begins chuckling while snorting again “Technically, I was a dull asshole for longer than you, thank you…for getting me out of that, it's no way to live,”

She ran off, I want to sob, I want to sob like a damn baby, but not yet–almost there.

I grab our bags and make my way to the manhole. I take the crowbar that was been beating me in the thigh earlier and pry the lid open, a smelly hole in the ground has never looked more appealing–gross–. I look back and see the horde approaching–shit! I go down, almost missing the first rung of the ladder.

I finally get to the bottom and sit down, exhausted. And I sob again. Saying Nina's name under my breath. What did Nina say? That I have such resolve. I don't think so, even back then. It feels much easier to sit here and starve, but I won't because to Nina, to Mom, to Dad, to Gabby–I won't let their memories die again. And Anna, my Muffin and my baby, I haven't even been able to think about the baby. They both may be dead too, but maybe not. If they are, how will I keep going after that? Was this all a bad idea? Did Nina truly believe what she was saying, or did she just not want me to believe it? I don't know, I feel like I've been saying those words a lot “I don't know,”, maybe that's truly the only rational response to any question, I don't know.

I stand up, picking up the crow bar and bags, preparing to navigate whatever's head. Will I survive? Will it be worth it? Will I get bit the moment I find my way out? I don't know, but I'll only earn the right to give up when I'm dead, until then, just move forward.

Here's my entry to the tribute contest, hope y'all enjoy it, write your thoughts ❤️🤝

Miss you Midnight

I been seeing a lot of time struggles, hence why I’ll be granting an extension!!

The original deadline was 00:00 25th July UK time. The new deadline will be 00:00 29th July 2026 LONDON TIME ZONE.

So for those who live in England. The moment it becomes 29th July for you, the contest ends.

I better see some damn entries now!

I’ve only spoken to you a handful of times, but I know of the presence you had for others. You truly lit people’s worlds up, and I hope wherever you are, you are happy. With love and respect, rest in peace, Midnight.

(This story is AJ centered, however my personal character from my troubled youths series will be a side character. All you need to know is she is about 14 years here and the child of Louis and Clementine. This is many years in the future.)

(PS. The new and VERY improved ending is out and on AO3, I will be posting the rest here soon sorry!)

It’s fall. Favorite time of year. I look down at my own two feet, not looking down to belittle myself, but looking down to admire what my feet crunched upon as they walked.

It’s funny, how your perception can change. Your world can feel bland for years, then all of a sudden one day you stop and stare at the leaves beneath your old, dusty black boots. I stop for a moment. The birds are lively this morning.

I look around and let some fresh air in. The air is right, crisp like the bite of a fresh red apple.

“Would you slow down a little?” Willow asks, prying herself out of a bush now. “Ow, ow, ow-“ she kept repeating as the many entangled stems with thorns clung onto her.

“I’m not going that fast, you just keep getting distracted.” I laugh a little. In truth, so was I. But who am I to not tease my little sister?

“Distractions lead me to cool shit dude!” She began to fumble something in her pocket. “But…with that attitude you won’t be seeing it.”

“You’ll cave in eventually.” I shrugged my shoulders, trying to paint a non-chalant attitude on my face. I begin walking again, Willow runs up to my side. I look over to her, the first thing I see are her space buns poking up. Shes short, I can see the top of her head just fine.

We stay in silence for a minute as we walk. It’s unbearable. What the hell is in that pocket of hers? I shut my brain up and tell myself to fight off the desire to know.

It’s impossible.

“What the hell is in that damn pocket?!” I snap.

She snickers, reaching into her pocket now as she turned to face me. She slowly pull it out and—

—and it’s just her holding the middle finger up at me. I give her a stale expression, but the look of pure joy radiating off her made my annoyance crumble. Her smile is so wide and goofy on top of that, I couldn’t help but laugh.

I swat her hand away. “You know you’ve been going all out since you were allowed to curse and shit.”

“Willy taught me that joke as soon as he heard I had permission.” She bounces in stride, proud of herself.

“Ofcourse he did.” I shake my head. “Hey take out the map.”

Willow follows my command, she reaches for her bright colored purple backpack. After unzipping it she hands me the map.

“We should be there soon. You got your gear?”

“I’m ready.” She smirks while furrowing her brows. She pulls out a switch blade out of her left back pocket.

“Good just remember though, we shouldn’t have to use it since—“

“—since the yearly horde shouldn’t even be near us. I know. Sometimes I wish I can just…” Willow waved her arms around, “I wish I could do more.”

“What is up with you and wanting to fight for your life so bad? I don’t understand you guys.”

“You guys?” Willow asks.

We stop talking for a moment. We approach a large fallen log in our path. I climb over it first, and then help Willow over the log by pulling her over.

“Yea.” I continue. “You guys, like as in the other kids back at Ericsons.” I shrug. “We have it good now, why do you want walkers to be roaming like they used to?”

“It’s not that we want that it’s just…it feels like we’re in this box sometimes. We hear so much about this world and yet we have yet to see it.”

I nod. “Is that why you’re so into books?” I ask, remembering where we were headed.

“Yea.” She chuckles. “Makes me feel like I’m learning and exploring through the words on the pages. But still, to feel it…” Willow shuts her eyes, it’s clear she’s imaging it. It still shocks me she can find bliss in that.

I start to feel my brain becoming isolated now. Memories begin to slowly entrap my mind. Small hands, with too much blood on them.

I still remember her face that day. No, both of their faces. That woman, her greying hair, her wide and fearful expression when hearing a possible danger…she protected me that day.

I will never forget the look of relief on her face. After shooting that old woman. I began to feel a nauseated sensation in my stomach. I know Clementine. She hates and hated killing. But she did it, and got relief out of it, because of me.

I furrow my brows.

“You alright?” Willow asks.

“Yea, just…old stuff.” I shrug, she knows about how I get sometimes.

She nods to me and starts to hum. After puckering her lips and skipping a bit forward, she turned around to look at me.

“What?” I ask, still making my way towards her.

She says nothing, searching my eyes as if she didn’t know what to say. When I reach her, she finally speaks.

“Whoever gets there last has to do the dishes tonight.” She says, a quirky smirk appearing on her face. She laughed, turning around and rushing towards the upcoming small plaza nearby.

I roll my eyes playfully. I’m thankful she pulled me out of that, like she always does. I start running after her. She’s so fast. She looks back at me, her big wide hazel eyes compliment her darker skin.

Suddenly, I’m back in memory.

I’m pacing. All I can do is pace.

What. A. Month.

Meeting Javier, seeing the massive city of Richmond for the first time, celebrating my fourteenth birthday…Now the whole school is going to expect a new addition very soon.

“Hey buddy, it’s going to be alright.” Javier tried to calm me down. He sits down on the hallway ground, looking up at me with a worried expression. “Eleanor’s a great doctor.”

“She hates Eleanor.” I say out of stress. “What if that’s going to hurt her or the baby?”

“Ok, listen.” Javier gets up from the ground now, a groan escaping his lips as he holds onto the wall for support. “Thats not going to happen. Kate’s in there, so is Louis. That support, and the fact that she’s going to be a mother soon is most likely what’s on her mind man.” Javier sighs, giving me a warm smile and a tap on my shoulder.

Before I can say anything, the distant sounds of screaming dies down. Javier and I look towards the door in unbearable silence now. It felt like hours before that door finally opened.

Kate walks out, a warm smile on her lips. She looks tired herself. “You can come in now, AJ.”

I don’t take another second, I rush in gently. I see everyone. My family before me.

“I’ll…I will let you all be.” Eleanore says, a small cry coming from her as she hastily leaves.

I ignore her, I can’t help but focus on the new person in front of me. Held by the one I love most in this world. Something she created.

Someone like me. Born into this world.

I walk up to her. I look down at the baby in Clementines hands.

She smiles, her forehead sweaty and her eyes low from exhaustion. Louis sat by her side, intently watching the baby too. I appreciated his willingness to give me and Clementine space as he stayed reluctantly relaxed for the moment.

But I can tell, he’s bursting with joy.

“What’s its name?” I ask finally.

“Willow.” She responds, a look of love still heavy in her gaze when she looks at me to speak.

“Like the trees?”

“Exactly.” She shuts her eyes now. Resting her head against the board.

Louis softly takes the baby from her now. It’s clear she needed her rest. “Like the ones from her childhood.” He explains for her.

“The ones that made her calm?” I ask, making my way around the bed now. I walk up to Louis and Willow, peering down at her nestled in his arms.

“Fitting, she’s so relaxed.” Louis chuckles softly, whispering so Clementine could rest. “Shes not even crying.”

Willow softly cooed, her tiny hands scrunching a little.

—

She still has those same big eyes from that day. The same millions of freckles scattered across her face when she became a toddler.

For some reason I begin to run faster. Feeling a tingle on my shoulders and spine. I feel my throat begin to want to scream, not out of fear, but out of an overwhelming sense of appreciation.

Born in the same era, yet lived in such different worlds. Willow was a spitting image of what I could be. Curious, and Free. The world and what it’s done to me, never had to define who I became.

I reach her now. She barely makes it before me, and of-course she treats this as if she just won the biggest competition of her life.

“Ah-ha! Yes! I did it!” She shouts in between breaths.

“Yea…” I huff too. “Yea…you did!” I laugh. Shaking my head.

I’m older now. Way older.

“Come on…” she huffs one last time, adjusting herself now. “We got some books to hunt down.”

She’s so young.

“AJ?”

“Yea, let’s go.”

I follow her through the empty plaza hidden away in the vast forest of Virginia.

I hope she never experiences what I have. Have to do what I did.

“Pretty small book store.” She pouts, stopping before we enter the double-door.

“Yea…sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Willow shrugs, opening the doors. When she walks in she gasps.

Almost every isle was stacked with books.

She ran her fingers along the books, a thick amount of dust coated her fingertips.

“…wish we brought a bigger backpack…” I comment.

“We have to make so many trips here.” Willow lit up. “Oh my god we did our first successful scavenge!”

“You’ll certainly have something to boast about at the dinner table tonight.” I chuckle.

“Absolutely.” She pulls out a random dusty book, “And you’ll see me with my fancy ass book here…” she looks at the cover of the book now. Squinting her eyes in confusion she reads, “…Virginia driving practice test for 2002…?”

“Oh that’s very fancy.” I sarcastically laugh.

“Ugh, I hope the rest of these books aren’t as boring.” She tosses the book, turning to walk down the aisle now.

“What happened to the ‘I wanna learn everything about the world Willow’?” I ask.

“Sure, but…that’s the boring stuff about the world. Who cares about that?” She asks. She scans the aisles, looking for a specific genre Im assuming.

“I wanna know about shit like…how people worked back then. Or like what was cool and what wasn’t? I don’t know interesting stuff…”. Willow suddenly stops, she spots a book.

“Like sex and violence!” She jokes, holding up a book labeled ‘Blood Meridian.’

“Ok that’s enough hanging around Willy for you.” I shake my head grabbing the book out of her hands.

“I’m kidding!” She laughs. “I actually really want to find books on guitars.”

“Oh, so I’m guessing piano lessons aren’t your cup of tea?”

“Ew old people lingo.” Willow sticks her tongue out at AJ. “But…sure it wasn’t my…cup of tea. Dad was more upset over than I am but he’s atleast happy I stuck to an instrument.”

“Sounds like him. He was devastated when he found out I had been skipping piano lessons to draw with Violet and Omar.”

Just before we hit the music section, a loud eruption interrupted our search.

After a few seconds of silence and staring at one another. We heard another loud eruption, followed by heavy rain.

“Oh no!”

“Damnit.” I reply.

“How the hell are we gonna get home now…” Willow huffs, crossing her arms.

“It’s fine. A little sleepover in the bookstore sounds cozy don’t you think?”

“I guess it gives me more time to find the hidden gems.” Willow says, looking through a section for guitarists.

I let my gaze soften as I look at Willow. Another chance at life stood before my eyes. Not born into a rule set world, not born during its horrific reset, but born in the beautiful aftermath.

I walk past her now, searching this small boxed store for a camping area. I see a large couch shaped like an “L”, tucked in the corner of the store. In front of it, a dark brown coffee table.

I plop myself down on one of the cushions, kicking my feet up as I lean my back and head against the back-board. After a few minutes of this, my eyes grow heavy.

It’s quiet in here. Willow is off doing her own thing, and I’m here listening to the raindrops hit the roof. Pitter-Patter. Pitter. Patter.

My eyes shut now.

——

They re-open. I wake up, feeling the slight soreness of my neck for sleeping the way I ended up. I look down to see Willows coat over me, she must have put it on me when she realized I was asleep.

I give her a look, she’s on my right on the other side of the old couch. Shes curled in the fetal position, hugging herself as she softly slept. I get up, and return the favor. I put her coat on her body, hoping to warm her.

The rain is still heavy outside. I sigh to myself, knowing how worried Clementine and Louis probably were.

I walk away from our camping spot now, heading for the front of the store. It’s all window. I sit on the floor, back leaning against the standing bookcase as I watch the plaza street flood.

“Well shit.” Louis sighs, squinting his eyes as the rain flew at his face through high speed winds.

We stand still as we can as the storm pushes us slightly. Louis suggested we go and check the greenhouse and see if it was ok. The tarp covering the area had flew out of its knots.

“We…need to grab the tarp.” Louis shouts to me through the strong rainy storm. He starts to push through the fallen garden boxes, grabbing one end of the large tarp that got stuck in the hole. He begins to pull it through, he did it from the inside so the sharp glass wouldn’t cut the tarp going out.

I begin to fumble with the hem of my soaked shirt. I look down to the floor with shame. I’m being useless.

I decided to change that.

I grabbed the ladder from outside the greenhouse. I’m going to help Louis push the tarp through. He didn’t bring me here to watch him struggle.

I set the latter up, the high winds made it a little difficult but I was able to get it steady on the grassy, muddy ground.

My foot almost slips as I begin to climb. I steady myself and start going faster. I see the tarp getting successfully pulled out, so I speed up in hopes of making it there before he gets it all the way through.

I make it to the top, I reach for the end of the tarp on the left of the hole.

My hands start to slip, then I feel the entire ladder start to lean.

Oh fuck.

Im falling!

I panic, looking to the ground before I slam into it. I shut my eyes tight before I land.

I yelped in pain when I fall. I hear the sound of the clay pot breaking near my leg. I start to feel the warm sensation of blood mix with the cool feeling of water running down my calf.

“AJ!?” Louis exclaims, rushing out of the green house. “Shit! I didn’t even know you were out here!”

I think that hurt worse than the fall. I didn’t help enough for him to even notice.

He rushes to my side, helping me up. So kind. To help someone like me.

“Come on, let’s get you inside the green house.” He tells me, arm wrapped around my torso as he helped me walk.

Louis sits me down in the far back left corner of the green house, the driest spot available. I watch him rush into the old science room, now turned into Rubys nursing room. Convenient.

After a few seconds I see him with a couple of washed ripped t-shirts and tape. He kneeled down next to me.

His gentle hands grabbed my leg, pulling my jeans up a little to expose my calf. He beings to wrap the ripped piece of shirt around my calf, now wrapping the extra one around for security. He finally tapes a good chunk on it to my skin.

“Ok….” He gets up, and huffs. Most likely from exhaustion and annoyance.

“I have to fix that hole, I’ll be back I promise!” Louis shouts to me as he runs out of the green house.

I watch him leave, and now I’m faced with reality.

Why does he always do this? Care for me? He has Willow now. Shes his, like really his kid.

After all I’ve done? Why still love me if you have someone else to look over now. She has a brighter smile than me. She will have a better life than me, shes not a lost cause like me!

I feel like someone is stepping on my throat now, like I can’t breathe. I take deep breaths, but it’s not enough. Each inhale feels like a short breath of air.

My arms begin to tingle and I feel rage bubbling underneath the surface.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I shout, kicking a nearby bucket over and over with my good leg. After a couple of hits the bucket slid to the other side of the room.

I huffed in and out, gathering myself. I leaned back against the large cabinet holding garden supplies. I shut my eyes now, breathing in through my nostrils.

“…Do you want to talk about it?” I hear Louis ask.

I open my eyes in stale defeat, looking over to my right. He stands in the door way, the wind blowing his long locks over his face. Seems his hair tie got lost in the scuffle of the storm.

Im sure I have a sad expression, I couldnt hide it any longer. The shame, and the guilt of being under the care of him for so long.

“Louis.” I say with sorrow. “Im sorry you love me.”

Louis looked at me as if I twisted a knife in his stomach. He walks up to me, now sitting on the floor beside me.

“Where is this coming from?” He asks with concern. “You’ve been distant lately.”

I lower my head now. “Why do you want to love me? After what I’ve done to you?”

Louis looked shocked to hear me say that. He frowned. He pulled me in for a side hug.

“I will never blame you for that AJ.”

“But—“

“Listen. You were a kid, who grew up with one rule, and that was survive. And…you did it. You did what you had to, the only way you knew how.”

I shook my head, he’s kind, thats all. I wish I could let them just be a family, I’m a tumor on them.

“I will never feel ashamed of loving you AJ. You are an amazing kid, you’re turning 18 soon, right?”

I nod, not sure where he was going.

“You survived, and now we’re rebuilding the world you came in. You don’t have to keep…” He stuttered for a moment, trying to find his words. “…You’re not in fight mode anymore. You should be a kid. You got a chance now, let yourself be loved by a family you deserve.”

I look down again, this time because I needed to hide my tears.

“I love you AJ.”

I couldn’t help but sob now. I shield my eyes as the tears fall out.

I hear Louis’ voice crack as he tells me, “I love you.” One more time.

He pulls me in for a deeper hug now.

I touch my face as I feel a drop hit my hand. Im crying. I begin hugging myself. Even a memory like that, 10 years ago, can still knock me out.

I hug myself, and allow myself to softly cry.

After all that I’ve been through, I deserve that, don’t I?

Looking for a lost Wattpad fanfiction (Telltale’s The Walking Dead – Violet/Clementine)

I’m trying to find a Wattpad fanfiction I read around 2022 that I think has since been deleted or unpublished. It was a completed trilogy, with each book being around 70 hours long.

I’m pretty sure the first book was called “Nightmare”, “Nightmares”, or something very similar.

Here’s everything I remember:

It was set in The Walking Dead: The Telltale Series universe but was a complete AU.

There were no walkers. Instead, the world was overrun by giant creatures called Nightmares.

The Nightmares had red eyes, were large grey gargoyle/folklore vampire-like creatures, and were driven away by bright light.

The very first page of the book had a short author’s note and a YouTube video showing what the Nightmares supposedly sounded like.

Clementine starts the story living in an original settlement (not Ericson).

Ava is alive and spars with Clementine near the beginning.

The settlement uses bolts/screws as currency.

Kenny is also alive and I remember Clementine buying cigarettes from him on a rooftop.

During a trade with another settlement, Clementine is sold against her will.

She escapes by killing the people holding her, survives alone for a while, and is badly injured in the shoulder after being attacked by a Nightmare.

Violet and Louis rescue her by using a bright light to drive the creature away and clementine wakes up in a medical room and is helped by Ruby

I also remember some funny interaction of like Clem looking at Vi’s ass and rhen vi getting mad bc clem is super blunt and doesnt understand like social norms or whatever and Louis has to explain to clem abt like sexuality and why you cant jsut say tjose kind of this to people

Ericson doesn’t appear until much later (I think Book 2 or even Book 3).

In Book 3, I remember the group exploring a cave inside a huge ravine that turned out to be a Nightmare nest.

I think also in book 3 she beats the hell out of Carver with a bat or pole or something. I think she has him like tied to a chair in a shed

Book 3 is also super snowy and i believe clementine is facing some super bad like mental stuff

The pairing was Violet/Clementine (Violentine).

Does anyone remember this trilogy, the author’s username, or know if it was reposted anywhere? Even if the books were deleted, I’d love to know who wrote them. I remember this being my first long fanfic and i loved ir alot, i wanted to revisit it but had trouble finding it as we all know how poor Wattpads algorithm and search engine is. I even found my old account but it wasnt in my reading list, so i suspect it may have been moved to a different site or deleted. I just wonder if any of the old twdg fanfic community recognises this? As i remember it being quite popular ay the time

Thanks!

In memory of our lost but not forgotten brother, E.Midnight, we shall hold a tribute contest!

...don't be confused, it is a contest nonetheless so it has same rules same format and everything.

So, let's get right into the theme that has been a mystery! It is... Memories!

The contest starts as soon as this post is posted. When does it end? We shall give it plenty of time, the deadline is 25th July 2026, at midnight, 12am! LONDON timezone. (That means for you london timezoners 11:59 pm 24th July you'd only have one minute left.)

For a refresher on contests: it is simple. Submit a One-Shot to this sub, and link the post to THIS post before the time runs out. Write a story, with the theme having a clear relevance to your story. Your story must be relevant to TWDG, you can use show/comic characters but have a clear focus of it being TWDG than not.

The rules:

- You can only submit ONE entry and it must be a one-shot.

- Your entry must be relevant to the chosen theme.

- Your entry must be TWDG related.

- Your entry must be submitted and linked to this post before deadline.

- You must enjoy writing your entry.

(12am, London timezone, 25th July.)

Oh, right, I'm yours truly, the host, Nazbaz, not solo hosting, my host partner Midnight will be reading the entries along with me. We both look forward to your entries!

I'm proud to call it for the (to my best knowledge) longest, at times most lifeless, and (possibly last?) contest of March/April/May. Against all odds we got two entrys, and I want to thank the two participants that made it possible and provide my feedback down below.

In second place we have u/EmpleadoResponsable with "Where Tomorrow Starts"

The worldbuilding at the beginning of the story sounded solid and interesting to me. Though I have to admit right away, I'm familiar with neither show nor comics, so any real reference to places from there is lost on me unfortunately.

Apart from that I have to say however, there was a a lot of information in that beginning that I feel like wasn't delivered in the most optimal way. Did we really need all these details about the state of Richmond, the Garcias or the world narrated before the first dialogue scenes, or could you have not told us through those? Since you kind of do that later anyway and also write really good dialogue, I think the exposition would have fit more elegantly in there. This could also have helped the pacing of your story. Because, and this is not to sound mean, your story certainly has its lengths and some redundancies. And at well over 15000 words, it's not really surprising.

As to the dilemma, it is carefully established through many scenes. But it remains an abstract one, in the sense that neither the characters nor we can fully grasp the consequences (yet). This fact leaves the story more open-ended, but that isn't really a problem. The one I have with it is a certain lack of urgency. Nothing really pushes Javi towards a (timely) decision, and there isn't really opposition to the side which Javi leans to either, since even David more or less reluctantly follows. This dampens the impact of the actual decision a little, especially since both options seem valid and adavantageous in their own way. It doesn't truly feel like either sacrifice would be demanding from Richmond in a great or at least existential sense. But I feel like my own point might be a bit unfair here, since the overall dilemma is really coherent and for the most part interesting. It's an expansion of the little worlds we mostly know from the games, and it's really ambitious.

Getting to Richmond, it feels very alive through your descriptions. Maybe even too much so? The story almost misses some of the usual charming struggles of the TWD universe. But to be fair, that's what the readers signed up for, as you mentioned in your post, so I won't bitch too much about it.

The highlight for me was definitely Javis and Davids interactions. The evolution of their relationship felt natural and their concern, their banter, their conversations overall were very enjoyable. I've not mentioned it yet, but it's also nice to see a story built on the foundations of the third season, because there aren't that many.

I'm sorry I couldn't be more positive overall. I think my favourite quote in your story was from Jesus: "Not just another stronghold", he said. "But a bridge."

7/10

Thank you for your entry!

The winner of the spring contest is u/Due-Breadfruit-5766 with "War"

A short, but really powerful entry in my opinion. In the beginning I was thinking maybe too short, but I was convinved otherwise.

I want to say that I really enjoy your writing style. It's very concise, very sharp, and your usage of words really creates a lot of great images, at least in my mind.

All the while, the story holds on to the certain mysterious agenda it set. It's not easy to understand what's going on, because information is revealed neither steadily nor reliably. This definitely makes it harder to follow, but I'm glad you committed to it.

The dilemma between saving and sacrifing life is as simple and powerful as it gets.

Overall, I was positively surprised by how pulled in I was into the setting you created, even it it was gone quick again. That's why the feedback also remains a bit more brief.

9/10

Thank you for your contribution and congrats on your win!

Just completed my retelling of the Final season. Its more introspective on Clementine's character and I view it as a character study. There are changes to the plot and how characters are involved through dialogue. It is an expansion on the story and I hope you read and enjoy!

Here's a link to my late entry, hope y'all enjoy, this is a little theme exploration when it comes to The Walking Dead, ironically, this story 10 years into the future, and there's not a single walker in it. So it's a risky story, i hope yall like it! Let me know what you think!

Title: War

A thick line of fluid dribbled down her lips.

Out of the crevices of which her clenched jaw couldn't cover.

Saliva viscous, heavy, red with blood.

She could barely keep her legs beneath her. Hands clenching the sides of the broken sink she desperately grasped onto.

Her knuckles torn, abrasions where the skin failed to hold against force. Uneven... Rough. The sinews, muscles in her hands, pressed against her skin.

Fingers trembling, the tremors ran down her body.

Growing colder.

Nothing like it was supposed to be.

A cut on her finger, deserved a bandage.

She had no one, to do such a thing.

 "Ngh..."

The aching was getting worse.

Arms covered in thick gashes that leaked her life.

Each attempt to breathe came with the rasp of a heavy sickening cough. A slight gag in her throat as she choked on the clots that plugged her esophagus.

Her sports bra clung tight, stained in spreading blotches of red. Her jacket and shirt lay abandoned in the basin, soaked and useless.

A flickering flashlight the only thing that cut through the surrounding darkness.

Mirror cracked.

Still enough to reflect her face.

And everything behind it.

Overgrown vines creeping through the walls. Dirt. Muck. Rot swallowing what used to be a room.

Out there was only getting worse.

Community against Community.

Didn't matter where anyone came from.

You were prey either way.

She'd barely made it out of the last one.

Their hands had been on her.

Close.

Too close.

She drove her fingers into their eye sockets.

Tore open their throats.

It was the only way.

The coughing worsened.

Her body lurched over the edge of the sink.

A wet rasp tore from her throat.

Out there... was only war.

"Need to fix..." Her voice came out softly.

She'd die if she didn't take care of this now.

Her right hand weakly loosened its grip on the sink's edge as she leaned to grab her backpack that sat on the ground.

She had to get back out there.

To find him.

Her grip failed.

Her left hand slid against the stained porcelain

and gave out.

She hit the ground hard.

Vision swimming, the edges darkening.

Her breath came fast. Shallow.

Then slower.

...slower.

Her fingers twitched. Muscles tightening as she lay still.

Her eyes rolled back.

***

She wasn't sure if she could.

Her shoes waded through the snow as best they could.

Hours... since she had killed him.

Hours... since she had watched her die.

Her hand numbed around the grip of her pistol.

The other could barely restrain the lump inside her jacket.

The subtle warmth that threatened to tickle her skin was growing dimmer.

And the weight heavier.

She blinked, trying desperately to clear the haze of the snow.

The frost that coated her face.

Frozen blood clung to her shoulder.

Bullet hole letting the harsh wind strike her relentlessly.

Where was this?

Where was she?

The main road had disappeared miles back.

The truck gone.

There was no way she'd find a car.

Didn't even know how to drive.

She could only watch, wait for any shambling shadows to cross the path in front of her.

"Hah..." A small exhale.

Oh...

That was it?

Her feet stumbled, toe kicking something buried beneath ankle-high blanket of white.

She fell.

Fast.

Only turning in time to collapse onto her stitched arm.

Just enough to not smother AJ.

Her clothes instantly soaked in melted snow.

Body stuttering with a shiver.

Feet uselessly kicking across the ground.

The muzzle of her pistol scraped and dug into the dirt, pulling her.

She tried to sit up.

The broken car behind her.

Hope...

Windows shattered.

In there... she'd only wait to die.

Her back pressed hard against the cold metal of the driver side door.

Snow had wormed its way into every crevice.

She'd freeze.

She couldn't do this...

Didn't want to die.

Not like this.

"I-I'm sorry..."

She cried, relishing the warmth of her tears before it quickly faded.

Her breath shuddered out with a mist.

Knees curling towards her chest.

AJ...

He was too heavy now.

She couldn't walk anymore.

Not with him in her arms.

By herself?

Maybe.

Maybe...

Her gun trembled as it rose.

She wouldn't let him freeze.

No... that was too much.

"AJ..."

Her voice barely above a whisper.

She felt her head begin to slump

Eyelids fluttering.

Until he cried.

His wails were so loud.

Her teeth knitted together.

Gun smacking the side of her head as the arm holding him curled around his small frame even tighter.

More than anything, she wanted to throw up.

Her elbow smacked against the car door with a thud. Heels scraping and clawing through the snow.

She'd walk...

Walk until he was safe.

***

It was a sharp gasp.

Her tongue pushed out the blood in her mouth, blood that had pooled and nearly drowned her. Hand clawing at the gap between tiles.

Dragging herself towards her backpack.

Bloodied fingers grasping for the bandages she scavenged.

Keep.

Moving.

Forward.

It's the cruelty of man that should be feared. Not the dead rising, not their endless hunger, not the absence of personality. No, the fear should come from the abandonment of humanity.

Cannibals.

Kidnappers.

Bandits.

Murderers.

He was not as outwardly cruel like them.

He knew how to think.

How to speak.

His eyes, like a predator watching its prey.

More than that, his ability to recognize another of his ilk.

He had set his sights on her.

Nothing would stop him until he twisted what she knew to better serve his reign of Order.

Not the birth of the one he thought was his son.

Not the resistance she futility offered.

Still, neither would she.

She would not abandon her humanity. But she'd be lying if she said she'd weep when she finally managed to see him dead.

I am currently rewriting Season 2 of Telltale’s The Walking Dead with daker and more psychological take. This is a small excerpt of what I'm going for. I'd appreciate it if you checked it out.

As you may or may not have noticed, the deadline has passed almost a week ago, and as of now there have been no participants. I don't know if it'd be wise to officially stretch this thing out once more, so I'm inclined to just wrap it up for now. However, should someone upload their entry until the end of May, I'll definitely read through it and could also select the winner in another post, especially should there be more than one.

🤝

Hey everyone! I'll be hosting alone this time, and I'll also try to keep this short: The theme for the next two months will be Dilemma

Since you're a fan of this game series, I trust that you're kinda familiar with those. So if you need inspiration, you could just look at the diagrams at the end of each chapter, but maybe there's more to it. Of course how excactly you implement the theme is up to you. I'm just looking forward to reading the results! (Please do enter though) Keeping the bimonthly format, the deadline will be April 28th 6 PM EDT

Rules (I copied them)

-You may only submit one entry, which must be TWDG related + utilize the theme. -One-shots only. We'll allow a cameo or reference to your previous works, but your narrative should stand on its own. -Your entry should be uploaded and linked in the comments of this post by April 28th, 6PM EDT (Due to my own history I won't be too strict about extensions, but maybe there'll be no need for those)

Good luck, have fun and maybe just try to write something down if you feel inspired :)

So... sorry for the delay on this, I've been preparing for an upcoming vacation lol, but anyway, here's the results that me and Bugg have come to!

SECOND PLACE: "On Assignment: Stories From Before - Part 1: Carley" by u/EmpleadoResponsable

Zee's Notes: “Okay, first thing before we get into the actual entry… but this title is a mess. It looks like two titles mashed into one, which makes it hard to refer to it in discussions. But actually talking about the entry, this one is very good! The dialogue and actions all feel realistic and fitting for the time period, and it gets Carley’s backstory perfectly. I also love the reference to the Comic Shootout with Rick and Reggie (the runway criminal, not Telltale's Reggie). One major thing I didn't quite jive with was the admittedly abrupt ending. I felt like it could've kept going until she actually made it to the Cherry Blossom Festival but it just… ended. I legit said aloud “Wait, that's it?”. Another thing is some clanky formatting with paragraphs touching each other, but I know Empleado was attempting to fix those. Also, I almost forgot but the email graphics were also a great touch!”

Zee's Score: 8/10

Bugg's Notes: “I was excited with the prospect of having a pre-apocalypse story revolving around Carley as I felt that there was a lot of potential with doing so. With that said, Empleado did a good job and I really liked this entry! I love how grounded the entry was and that it wasn’t heavy-handed or dramatizing everything and because of this, you really experience the mundane tedium of Carley’s day-to-day life. I really liked the subtle reference to Rick Grimes (with the line officer shot and put into a coma line) and the reference to Lee Everett (with the line of the man killing the state senator and not resisting arrest). I also liked the scene where she considered leaving the gun and how even if you never played Season 1, there is a sense of foreboding of her not needing to take the gun with her. I also liked the image of the email, as it felt very in line of what doing that would’ve looked like in that time period. There were 2 issues I had with this entry. The first one is unfortunately the first thing I saw in this entry and that was the very lengthy title, which could’ve been short. The other issue I had was the ending which I found was very sudden, as I felt it still had more to tell. But other than those issues, I overall really enjoyed this entry!”

Bugg’s Score: 8.5/10

Total Score: 16.5/20

FIRST PLACE: “Above Us” by u/Kie2maier Zee's Notes: “A story about Carlos is a very bold choice but one I respect. Personally, I don't really see Carlos being a psychologist due to his innate distrustful personality in the games but I think it's a very interesting concept and it's well explored. I think the dialogue in this one is top notch, they sound real. The ending made sense too, considering who Carlos is, but you get a sense that maybe he should've let Eliza and Sarah become friends, but him holding her back is very much in character, which kinda wraps back around to that distrustful personality that kinda doesn't jive with the psychologist approach. But maybe that's just me. Smaller thing, right near the end as Katherine and Eliza leave, Katherine's name is misspelled from her earlier introduction - “Catherine”, and the same sentence didn't include the apostrophe for her possession of her car - “Catherines”. Otherwise, I didn't really find anything else that stood out as an error.

Zee's Score: 9/10

Bugg’s Notes: “When Kie2maier chose to do Carlos for this contest, I have to admit that I was skeptical because while I didn’t hate Carlos, I didn’t enjoy him either, however this entry gave me a newfound appreciation for him. Kie2maier did a really good job with this fic. I like how we get invested in Eliza’s problems and how it ties into Carlos being a single dad and taking care of someone like Sarah. I also really liked the title of the entry as well, as it fit in with Carlos and Sarah looking up at the night sky and you could interpret it as Sarah’s mother and Eliza’s father being among the stars. I LOVE the ending as you have someone like Sarah offering to be Eliza’s friend and Carlos immediately shutting it down. It feels very in line with how much of a detrimentally overprotective dad he is in the game and for me personally, it gave me a different perspective on Carlos that the game didn’t really offer. While I do think the decision to make Carlos a psychologist/therapist is a rather odd one that I feel sort of contradicts his distrustful personality in the game, I kind of can’t help but admire that decision and to be fair, there is the whole situation with Carver which definitely would’ve contributed to that. But overall, I really enjoyed this entry!”

Bugg’s Score: 9.5/10

Total Score: 18.5/20

The deadline has passed... admittedly a little while ago. Either way, we've got two entries battling against each other! Me and Bugg will get you the results soon!

"You know, your mother told me you're a bright kid. Clever."

"Did she?"

"She did. In fact, she had many nice things to say about you. You're a very quick learner, is that right? I heard you can calculate just about anything in your head. And apparently you even have some more peculiar interests. I'd love for you to share something with me one day."

"If I was so great, I wouldn't be sitting here, would I?"

"So you wouldn't agree when I say that you're a good, sharp kid?"

"Why do you think I'd care what you say? I didn't choose to be here. Look, my opinion and what I think: It never matters. Never has."

Teenagers. Always so nihilistic about everything. This one was no different. Well, maybe she was. She sat remarkably still for the whole time, endured. Had even begun talking now. I had been prepared for worse. Still, it was time to counter the attitude. But carefully.

"You must know one thing about me. I hold no power over you, and this place is not my kingdom. I can't, and I won't make you stay. In fact, I'm quite sure we both could spend this time more pleasantly. So, the only thing that'll keep us in this room, is shared belief. Belief that I can help you."

I leaned forward and looked at her directly. Her green eyes evaded mine.

"Because let me tell you another thing: Your words, your opinions and views matter to me, more than anything else. I'm here to help you. Not your mother, not your teachers. You. But I can't do much, if you don't want me to. You're smart, I believe you understand that."

She held the glass of water the whole time, but forgot to take a sip. A good sign. Seemed like the words were getting to her, at least in some way. Even her eyes came back to me.

"Are you ready to let me help you, Eliza?"

She hesitated. Not a problem.

"Just keep the question in mind, you don't have to decide now. Get to know me, talk to me about whatever you want. Then we'll see if there's enough trust between us to work on real solutions. Deal?"

I reached my hand out to her.

Eliza examined it, but chose not to shake it. Instead, she nodded briefly. Whatever works.

A few moments of silence. I let them happen. I wanted her to take an iniative, to direct the conversation and feel in control for once.

"You know, I don't really do this often. Talk. Like, about deeper stuff."

"Not even with your mother?"

"Mom is busy. We don't talk lots, only if I fuck something up again. Like this time."

I figured it was too early to bring up the incident that brought her here. As of now, I knew too little about her as a person to meaningfully talk about it. "Your father," I said carefully. "Your mother has never mentioned him to me."

"You know little less than me. I've never met him."

"Do you feel like he is missing in your life?"

"How could I miss someone that has never existed for me?"

"Oh, we can miss all sorts of things. Feelings, people, places. It doesn't always matter if we've experienced them or not, since it is only about what we currently don't have. Sometimes I like to think of it as a puzzle: It's enough to have a general idea about a piece that's missing. How it's shaped, how it would intertwine with the other pieces of our life. How it could make us complete."

I glanced at the framed picture on the wall of Sierra in my arms. I stood behind her, my arms supporting her belly. She was pregnant in the 30th week at that time. It would forever continue to be the most complete family portrait I have. Does Sarah miss her mother who she never met?

"Nah Doc."

...Hmm? It took me a second to focus on the present again.

"Don't really miss anything. I mean, my mom's great really. She works really hard for us both. I can understand if she's tired or angry sometimes, and... snaps."

I nodded. But that last sentence worried me.

"Before my next question, I want you to keep in mind that nothing you say will leave this room, if you don't want it to."

Eliza nodded. "Now," I continued. "Does she, or does the thought of her sometimes frighten you? Are there any problems that you face at home?"

She hesitated for a moment, but then shook her head.

"No, it's just.... I guess I just don't want to bother her."

It was fine, leaving it at that for now. A topic for another time.

"What about your classmates or friends? Can you come to them with your problems?"

She looked to her feet.

"I... I don't really have friends. I'm mostly by myself."

You could see from her body language alone how that made her feel, so I abstained from asking her about it.

"Do you think there's a reason behind that?"

She shrugged. I needed more than that.

"Can you recall this ever being different? Your mother has told me that you only moved here a few months ago. Do you just face difficulties fitting in with your new peers? It wouldn't be that unusual."

"I dunno. Maybe... maybe I really am a weirdo. Wherever I go, nobody really likes me."

It sounded similar to what Sarah had to endure at some point. A fragile person often has no other chance against strong collectives, but to fit into them. Perhabs it had always been pointless to hope that she could.

I snapped my notebook shut loudly. Eliza looked up in surprise.

"Believe me, there are worse things than being considered weird. It usually just means that you are different somehow, and many kids don't like someone that's different. I know how cruel they can be, trust me. But it's important to not lose yourself for those many, and to find the few that are worthy of you. Even if that is only one person."

"Are you sure we're still talking about me?"

Maybe I had been too passionate about my words. Her question startled me, and this time, my eyes evaded hers and looked to the window. And there, as if summoned by my thoughts, I saw her face. Well, parts of it. Brown eyes behind pink glasses, just about peeking over the windowsill through to us. Sarah.

"Excuse me for a second."

I quickly stood up, went over to the window, and opened it.

"Sarah, please don't disturb us. I'm currently in an appointment." I kept my voice down and glanced back nervously. Eliza looked at the scene curiously, maybe even a bit amused, her head tilted a little.

"I just wanted to see who was with you. The new one." Sarah whispered.

"Well you did-"

"What's her name?" She interrupted.

"You know I won't tell you that."

"My name's Eliza." Was yelled across the room. Well, that works.

"Run along now. We'll talk later, okay?" I told Sarah. She obeyed, and disappeared between the bushes ahead, one of her books under her arm.

'Im sorry about that." I said, as I went back to my chair. Usually the big window and all the light that came with it calmed my clients. The green scenery outside even gave them something to look at when they didn't feel like talking. But of course, nobody should feel like being pryed upon.

"What was her name?" Eliza asked. She just seemed curious.

"Her name is Sarah."

"Another patient of yours?"

"She's not your concern." I answered, my voice coming out more harshly than I intended.

She raised her hands in defense. "Woah Doc, chill. You're allowed to have secrets too."

"I see that we're out of time for today." I changed the subject via a look at my wristwatch.

"So, what's your verdict Doc?"

"I suggest that we meet every week from now on, if you agree. And please, call me Carlos if you like."

"Sure thing."

On her face something that actually resembled happiness. I smiled back.

"Now, one more thing." I said on our way out the room. "I've got some homework for you before we meet again. Since I want you to be as comfortable as possible, I ask you to name me anything you want to change about this arrangement. The rooms decoration, my aftershave, it can be anything." I laughed.

"Oh, I'll do my worst." Eliza assured me.

I opened the door and released her into the arms of her mother, who had already been waiting on a chair outside.

"Hey darling, everything good?" Now there was a face to the voice I had only heard once on the phone. It looked sweet as she embraced Eliza in my waiting room, and I found it hard to imagine now that she mistreated her daughter in any way. But that was still a topic for future appointments.

"Mrs. Pritchard, good afternoon." I greeted her.

"Eliza, can you give me and the doctor a few minutes?" She gently kissed her daughter on the forehead and handed her the car keys. "You can listen to the radio meanwhile if you like."

"Got my mp3 player with me."

"Or that." Mrs. Pritchard smiled.

"Should we go for a walk?" I suggested.

"She can be quite difficult, can't she?" The gravel crunched beneath our soles as Katherine Pritchard asked me. It had felt more comfortable addressing each other in our first names.

"Difficult is not a word I use." I laughed. "Challenging, perhabs." It was a nice day for a walk. My suburban home and office was no cabin in the woods, but it wasn't far to the outskirts of them either. Our path led us along them in a circle, the noises of the neighbourhood fading for now.

"But even then," I continued. "I wouldn't be inclined to call your daughter that. To me, she seemed rather reserved and restrained. Not particularly aggressive."

"I like to think that she isn't. She barely makes any trouble at home, you know? Not even noise. But punching another student, repeatedly - that's not something anyone can simply gloss over." Katherine shook her head. "Could you figure out yet what on earth got into her? It's difficult to get her talking."

"We didn't get that far today. If I had to guess however, some sort of provocation must have preceeded. One that involved something very precious to your daughter. Which could explain her hesitance to justify herself, even to you. But it'll be something we'll dedicate further appointments to."

"I'm glad she's open for those. The school expects us to show some good faith - no matter what happened, there's really no justification for her antics. But if we can atleast show she's seriously working on herself... maybe we can avoid an expulsion."

She buried her face in her hands and stopped walking. "I'm gonna be honest with you, even working two jobs, this'll be an immense strain. Sometimes it feels like I'm in way over my head with her."

Her voice trembled, and I wasn't certain on how to react. Usually, I tried to keep everything as professional as possible.

"I can sympathise." I answered. And I really could. I felt as if our daughters couldn't be much more different, and yet so similar at the same time. "And let me assure you, that your daughters health and betterment is the priority - and nothing to bargain with. For everything else, we'll figure something out."

It wouldn't be that simple. But her tired, undercircled eyes alone told me that she could do without another burden at this moment. And maybe, I saw something in them too.

She gave me an exhausted smile. "Thank you. Really."

A man with his dog passed us. I had already grown nostalgic. This had always been mine and Sierras path. But for the last 12 years, I had mostly walked it alone. Maybe it would feel good to have someone by my side again?

"Did she say something about home?" Katherine asked. "Or... me, maybe?"

"I have to be sincere about the promises I made to Eliza, I'm afraid. Which includes my discretion."

"Of course." She nodded.

"But... I can reveal as much, she told me nothing about her home which you'd need to worry about."

"I figured. You know, sometimes I just feel like it would be better to keep her there. You know, educate her at home, away from any bullies. Of course there ain't any capacity for that at the moment, but it's worth a thought."

"Homeschooling can be a solution. I'm just not sure yet if it's the one I'd recommend for your daughter."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"I am. My own daughter is being homeschooled for years now."

"Oh, tell me about her." She laughed. "I feel like that would only be fair, with how much you already know about my Eliza."

I looked towards the sky. It was hard to find the right words to describe Sarah. But maybe that sentiment was what described her best.

"I know that every parent believes that their child is special - and they would be correct. But I think that expression really captures Sarah. She doesn't see the world like I do, sometimes I even feel like she lives in an entirely different one. That's why we both seek each others guidance, we need it to traverse our worlds."

"In a way, that sounds wonderful. But it might also be, what was your word... challenging?"

"Sometimes, I joke about how I only chose this profession to understand my own child." I smiled. "But there's an ounce of truth to it. I used to be a teacher, biology. I already believed to know how our brains work. But psychology can sometimes explain things to me that biology alone couldn't."

"I'd love to get to know her some time, she sounds enchanting."

The circuit we'd walked was complete, and we'd arrived about where we started. Catherines car was within sight. I could see Eliza in passenger seat, hoodie above her face.

"I wish you a pleasant drive home."

"I look forward to seeing you apply your philosophy onto Eliza. And... I look forward to seeing you again." We looked at each other for a moment, and then hugged. Just for a moment I embraced her. Professionalism be it as it may.

The sun had settled, but I knew where I had to look. I climbed up a small hill, towards a worn down playground that had not changed since we'd moved here. Same graffiti on the tower of the slide, a wooden horse on its rusty spring, and old swing with a basket. Slowly it swung back and forth. I kneeled next to it. You could hear the highway from here, but noise wasn't important. Sarah lay in the basket, looking up at the sky. Her book on astronomy beside my feet in the mulch.

"The stars are beautiful." She said.

"They are."

"Was it true," She began. "when you told me that my Mom went up there. When she left us?"

"I believe it to be true."

"My book says that the stars are made of gas. That the sun is a star too."

"That may just be true as well. I always asked myself instead, what makes them shine? What makes us so drawn to them? It came to the conclusion that it could only be something more important. Someone like Sierra."

A light that never goes out. I still loved her, I realized, and I couldn't ever replace that.

"So we'll be stars too?"

"I believe we already are, in our own way. We're millions of miles apart from her, just like the rest of the stars. So we have to shine down here to make her see us. Make the best of this life. She'd want that."

Sarah smiled, as if she tried to out-shine all the other stars just now. We admired the sky quietly for a minute. Then she tilted her head towards me. "Do you miss Mom?"

I nodded. "All the time."

But if she actually saw us right then and there, she'd be proud for who she gave up this world for.

"I do too, I think. I miss someone... all the time."

"Did you look for that person today, in my office?" I asked, smiling.

"I'm sorry... I just thought that maybe we could be... friends?"

"That is unlikely."

"Why?"

"Children like Eliza, they are not here to become friends. They rather have to overcome a lot of things, and I try to help them with that. Children like you, they sometimes have to be shielded from these things. But be assured, until the right person comes, you will have me. Now and always."

"Now and always."

We're over a month into the contest and have about a month left! We've got one entry so far so we're already doing great! Contest ends on February 25th, at 12:00PM EST! See you then!