Arsonist's Lullaby
When I was a child, I heard voices
Some would sing and some would scream
You soon find you have few choices
I learned the voices died with me…
I saw my father, and my mother. I heard my father yelling, throwing things. I felt my mother stroking my hair, heard her low voice humming that same tune, the one she sang until her last day. Then I heard the growls, the groans, the screams, the tearing flesh. Through it all, that singing lasted. Then I felt teeth and fingernails closing in on my skin, the humming and the yelling never stopping until everything goes black. Then there's an eerie darkness and a heavy silence, nearly suffocating. The voices are silent.
When I was a child, I'd sit for hours
Staring into open flame
Something in it had a power.
Could barely tear my eyes away.
I lurch awake suddenly, in my 'bed'; actually a couch in the in the Grimes' house in Alexandria. My throat is sore, and I hope that I didn't scream and wake up baby Judith. I push myself into a sitting position and pull on my black boots and tug on my jacket. I open the front door almost silently and slip out the frigid air biting at my skin.
I follow the road to the main guard tower and stop at the bonfire at the foot of the tower. I stand close to the flames, my eyes locked on the dancing red and gold. There's a power in the light it gives off, in the way it dances and crackles. The smoke is thick and heavy, drifting up to join the black clouds obscuring the stars.
I hear footsteps behind me, grating on the gravel walkway. I know I should look up, probably have a weapon somewhere near my hand, but I can't take my eyes from the flames.
All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach.
Don't you ever tame your demons,
But always keep them on a leash.
"Hey."
I finally manage to look away from the fire and meet the gaze of my approacher.
"Carl." I give him a small smile, then turn back to the fire.
"You okay?" He asks.
I nod. "Did I wake you up?"
"I was already up. I just heard the door open and came to make sure nothing was wrong." His voice is husky with sleep.
"Everything's fine, don't worry." I say, not looking back at him.
He takes a step closer, the back of his hand brushing mine. "Nightmares?" He asks quietly.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before nodding almost imperceptibly.
Carl's fingers gently weave between mine, slowly and hesitantly.
I push past the instinctual tensing of muscles and subconscious analysis of how to break his arm and disable him.
I didn't used to think like that.
I squeeze his hand, his wide palm warm against mine, narrow and stiff cold.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks carefully.
My automatic answer is no, but then I realize he deserves to know.
"Yeah, uh, it was my- it was my parents- and-" My voice breaks.
He moves then, his arm sliding around my waist and pulling me against him. My hands are between my chest and his. I rest my forehead against his shoulder. I feel him rest his cheek atop my head.
"It's gonna be alright." His grip on me tightens. "I'm not going to let anything hurt you."
A growl echoes from outside the wall, and I hear an undead fist slam into the metal. Carl shifts the slightest bit, so his back is to the wall.
I know I can't rely on him though.
I go back to that instinct telling me how I could have incapacitated him in a fraction of a minute.
The demons inside me will never be tamed. But at least I've got them on a leash.
For now.
