Hate
xxx
Her hate grows.
It deepens.
It festers.
It seethes as the days grow long, the hours ever more restless.
It taints her thoughts, blackens her bruised heart, imprisons her within its septic arms.
Stronger than any virus, it infects her.
Until there is nothing else, nothing more, only vengeance and her sword.
Hate drives the blade faster, harder, deeper, and the Governor's brain gives like warm butter beneath Michonne's hand. His blood blooms, spreads, stains, and she falls to her knees, a feral sob tearing from her throat.
(Love keeps her alive, stalls the bullet in Andrea's loaded gun. Love.)
xxx
Drabbles are hard, lol.
Hope you enjoyed this one.
Thanks so much for reading!
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