Francis Dunwoody was a man who largely went unnoticed in life before the turn. He had few loyal friends and a girlfriend who dumped him because of his addiction to painkillers; an addiction developed over time due to a painful knee injury that left him on disability. Francis spent much of his free time watching television, reading the Bible, stockpiling pain medication and just before the turn, awaiting trial for obtaining the stockpiled drugs illegally; he'd found and used his cousin's DEA number and called in countless prescriptions and sold them to Phil, his neighbor. Phil was a survivalist who had never served in the military but pretended to be an ex- Marine. The two men shared delusions of grandeur and a healthy addiction to violence and opiates. More often than not, they would discuss their plan for when "it all went down"- it would either be a race war or an invasion like in one of their favorite movies "Red Dawn". Neither of them held out much hope for a race war, as they'd been lackluster racists.
Francis, high on Flexeril and moonshine spoke about how easy it would be to start a community of like-minded people, with him as their leader, their prophet. He didn't come out and say "cult", but it was enough for Phil to call Francis crazy and stop speaking to him for a time.
When things went crazy, Phil allowed Francis to join him and his wife in their bunker. Francis expressed no interest in going out on runs with them when supplies got low, so he stayed in the bunker, guarding against attacks that never came. The one time he'd gone with them, they'd found a sweet girl of 17, alone, hungry and frightened and Francis sweet-talked her into joining them. It wasn't long before they were sharing a bed. Melissa was largely uneducated and hung on every word Francis uttered; she worshiped him and he liked it.
One day, Phil and his wife returned and were ambushed by a group of lost souls. Phil called to him, but Francis ignored his pleas. Melissa ran out to help and Francis let them die. That night, Francis heard the familiar snarling of the undead and went topside.
Phil, his wife and Melissa had turned. They were lost souls and had to be stopped. The only weapon available, a flamethrower left by the barn, was within Francis' reach and he grabbed it. Pulling the trigger, Francis set Phil and the two women ablaze. It took a long time for them to burn, but Francis watched, fascinated.
Emboldened by his newfound power, Francis took frequent trips into town, discovering more people who needed him. He saved them and they feared his wrath.
The y took over the church and its grounds as their number increased and Francis began his true mission of impregnating women to fulfill is demented prophecy. He limited his own drug use to evenings; he realized that people were easier to control if they were subdued, so he introduced opiates into their food supply to keep them under his sway. It had been a beautiful beginning for him. Now Rick and his people threatened his peace.
Francis met his closest four lackeys next to the rectory. They were armed, but they looked scared.
"What's going on, Francis?" asked Michael, nervous that his lack of ability would incite the fury of his leader.
"They are upon us, Michael," Francis said through clenched teeth.
A group of walkers approached from the wooded area behind them. As they shuffled towards the men, Michael raised his pistol and shot a heavy-set walker in the chest. Anthony, who carried an assault rifle, finished the walker off as Francis turned a fiery burst on the walker closest to him.
They worked their way to the church, Francis intent on doing away with anyone who stood in his way.
The men ran to the rectory, slowing down once or twice to shoot at walkers but making no progress in impeding their movement.
"Whosoever is not found written in the book of life was cast in the lake of FIRE!" shouted Francis igniting the flame thrower and shooting short bursts at approaching walkers.
It was clear that they were not his main objective as he strode purposefully toward Rick and Carl.
What he saw caused him to halt the men and watch as the undead surrounded the group.
They ambled toward the church grounds, snarling and moaning. Beth looked out the window and saw Rick's truck. She crept to the back door of the church as the other women huddled together.
"Don't go out there! You'll be killed!" shouted Mary, a wide-eyed older woman with long strawberry blonde hair. She motioned for Beth to come to her.
"I can't stay here, Mary," Beth called over her shoulder. She opened the door to find Daryl and 4 armed men.
Before she could comprehend that Daryl's cohorts were Francis' acolytes, Daryl tossed a rifle to Beth who caught it and ran with them to the front of the church.
Inside the truck, Carl scrambled over Michonne to the back of the truck to retrieve the remaining weapons and ammunition, loading two handguns and a rifle.
"Carl?" Rick called back to him.
"Almost ready, "Carl reached as far as he could to hand his father the automatic pistol.
"Okay, I'm gonna pop the back; come out shooting."
Rick released the tailgate latch and Carl hopped out, aiming and shooting with deadly accuracy. Once outside the vehicle, Rick took a quick glance at Michonne who remained motionless, then turned his attention to the business of stopping the onslaught of walkers.
The shrieks of the women inside the church momentarily distracted Rick; as he looked in their direction, Francis walked closer, his flame thrower casting flames at the walkers. Daryl and his men reached the group and fell to work. Soon, the only walkers left standing were in flames. The men shot them and they fell, the acrid smell of burning necrotic flesh filled the air.
Francis approached the group with a sad look on his face as if he regretted what he was duty bound to do to them.
"If a man abides not in me, he is cast into the fire and he is burned. You cannot be saved."
"Don't do it, Francis." Rick said, pointing his gun at the maniac.
"Nothing will stand in the way of what has been ordained. You must be cleansed by fire."
Daryl shot a look at Rick. I can take him down. Let me do it.
"For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God," Daryl quoted, edging closer to Francis.
Francis blinked and turned his attention to Daryl.
"Get back," he hissed.
Daryl moved a step back, looking at Rick who kept his eyes on Francis. There was liquid pooling on the ground behind the crazed man.
"Francis, you know how this is going to end. Just put it down, "Rick said calmly.
"I offered you a safe haven. I treated you with kindness and you repay me with lies and violence. I am the one who will create a new world out of the ashes, not you!"
He pointed his weapon at Rick and pulled the trigger. Rick dove behind the truck, pulling Carl to him as the others watched helplessly, but the flamethrower did not ignite.
After repeatedly pulling the trigger with the same result, Francis ripped the device from his body discovering a hole in the tank. Enraged, he ran for Rick. The door of the truck opened in time to slam into Francis, dropping him to the ground. Michonne stepped out and stabbed him in the chest with her katana.
His eyes wide with shock, Francis struggled,gurgling, and clutching at his chest, Francis soon fell silent.
"Well, shit, "said Jacob walking closer to him and looking over at Michonne. "If that don't beat all."
He then aimed his rifle and shot Francis in the head.
"What have you done?!" screamed Michael aiming his pistol at Jacob.
Daryl wheeled around and shot Michael in the leg. The wounded man fell to the ground in pain.
The other men lowered their weapons instantly, too afraid to fight.
"There's one more in the house," Daryl said to Jacob." We tied him up."
"Leave him be; it's Damien and he's scared of his own shadow," Jacob snorted.
The women filed out of the church crying and hugging one another.
"How could you?" Mary asked tearfully. "He was everything!"
Rick looked down at Francis and back at Mary. He didn't have the words to explain to her that the dead man was a charlatan.
"I'm sorry," was all he could manage.
After speaking with the remaining members of the church group, they decided that they would remain on the church grounds albeit with a different approach to communal living. Although Rick offered to lead them to Terminus, the pregnant women felt concerned about traveling and the men didn't trust that Terminus was a reality.
"We'll take our chances, "Luke, the eldest male said clapping Daryl on the back. "Thanks, man."
Daryl lifted one shoulder and mumbled, "No problem."
Rick stood by his open truck door and turned to Jacob.
"Where in the heck did he get a flamethrower?" Rick asked him.
"Truth be told, you can get a drip torch just about anywhere. We use 'em on farms for clearing brush." Jacob shrugged. "Francis wadn't handy with a pistol."
Daryl snorted as he slid into the driver's seat and cranked the engine.
"Take 'er easy," he said.
On the road, Beth recounted her experiences with the church as Daryl drove. Carl, Michonne and Rick sat in the backseat, Michonne with her head on Rick's shoulder.
"How ya feelin'?" he asked her.
"How do I look?"
"I love you, "Rick answered softly.
"That bad?" Michonne asked with a weak smile.
They drove into the night, stopping finally near a lonely looking cottage. Weary, but with enough energy left to clear the house for a night of sleep, the group exited the truck.
With all of them sitting on the floor of the main room of the four room house, with a fire crackling in the fireplace, Rick pulled his family close and shut his eyes.
Beth raised an eyebrow at Daryl who smiled and said, "I'll take first watch."
A/N: I feel like this is the end, but since I've received a lot of PMs about continuing, I might add a couple of chapters. Let me know if it feels like there's more to be said and please articulate it in a way that I can understand. I appreciate all of the feedback; it's been wonderful for a first time fanfic author, so tell me what you want/think. Thanks.