twd: the last silence

Chapter 28: Blood and Orders

Axel stood still.

Fifteen corpses lay at his feet, their blood soaking into the dirt like ink into ancient parchment. His once black-and-silver hair now dripped red, matted with the warmth of fresh death. The katana in his hand no longer gleamed—it shimmered a dark crimson, as if it had absorbed the very essence of the fallen, drinking their sins and sealing them in steel.

The camp was silent.

No birds. No whispers. Just the soft hum of power in the air—the raw, heavy tension of fear and awe.

Axel's gaze swept slowly over the crowd. His breathing was steady. His expression unreadable.

Then, calmly—quietly—he spoke.

"Hank," he said, voice low but unshakable. "Take their bodies. Leave them just outside the walls. Not too far."

Hank nodded, already moving with the other men to carry the dead.

"We'll use them," Axel added, eyes narrowing. "Let the blood call the beasts. Wolves. Scavengers. Whatever the land hides… we'll have them. Their meat, their fur, their bones."

It wasn't cruelty—it was calculation.

Nothing would be wasted.

Not even betrayal.

The people obeyed without a word.

As the corpses were dragged off, Axel turned his attention to Redd.

The rugged man, still recovering from the weight of everything, stood straight. His expression was firm, but his eyes revealed a flicker of unease… and respect.

Axel walked to him, his boots leaving red prints behind. He stopped a few feet away, still holding the katana, though its tip now rested on the ground.

"You," Axel said, voice cool and clipped. "I have a task for you."

Redd nodded without hesitation.

Axel continued, his tone shifting into that of a commander unveiling his next play on the board. "You and your men are strong. Proven. I want you to lead a scouting mission west of here. There's a town—abandoned, maybe. We don't know. It could be filled with supplies, fuel, weapons. Could be filled with death too."

He paused.

"I want information. I want resources. I want control."

Redd raised his brow slightly. "You want to expand again."

Axel's eyes lit faintly.

"No," he said, "I want to prepare. Expansion is survival. But I won't build on sand. I'll build on stone—and before we do that, I need to know what's around us."

He took a slow step forward, placing his hand on Redd's shoulder.

"Take six men. Two cars. Three days. You leave at dawn."

Redd nodded again. "And if we find people?"

Axel tilted his head slightly.

"If they're like us—bring them. If they're dangerous—mark their place and return. If they're worse…"

A long silence.

"Burn them."

No more words were needed.

Axel turned back toward the village, blood still clinging to him like a royal cloak.

Behind him, the people moved. Orders were followed. Traps were set. The dead were dragged. And the future, cold and certain, was already taking shape.

....

Three days passed.

The sun had risen and fallen three times over the walls of Axel's village, and though the routine carried on—guard shifts, water purification, rationing, and farming—everyone's eyes often drifted west, waiting.

Then they came.

Two battered cars rumbled through the gates just before dusk, tires cracking over dried earth. Redd was in the lead vehicle, his beard thick with dust, his eyes sharp but tired. Behind him, his men looked the same—bruised, worn, but alive.

Axel was already waiting.

Standing in the center of the courtyard, arms crossed, katana sheathed at his side, flanked by Hank and Jason.

Redd stepped out and gave a short nod. "We're back."

Axel returned it. "Report."

Redd didn't waste time. "We went thirty miles west, just like you said. Found a town—real old. Pre-apocalypse kind. Gas station. School. Some houses. Mostly ruins… but we found survivors."

That made Hank shift slightly. Axel didn't blink.

"Go on."

"They weren't like us. Wasn't a village. Wasn't organized. They were barely surviving. Living in scraps. No leadership. No law."

"And?"

"They had kids," Redd said slowly. "Women too. A few old men. But no strength. No food. Barely enough water. A few had guns, but they didn't know how to use them. Scared."

Axel tilted his head. "How many?"

"Twenty-seven total. Ten of them are children."

"Did they fight?"

Redd shook his head. "They begged. Offered what little they had. Said we could take anything if we let them live."

A long silence stretched between them. The air was thick with the weight of decision.

Axel finally spoke. "And what did you do?"

"We gave them some food. Left them water. Told them we'd return in a few days with your decision. They're waiting."

Axel nodded once, his expression unreadable.

"You did good," he said quietly. "Tomorrow morning, we go back. I want those people here. All of them."

"They're weak," Redd warned, though not defiantly. Just truthfully. "They'll need time to adjust."

Axel's eyes narrowed. "Then we give them time. But they'll follow the law. Like the rest."

Redd nodded, his loyalty unwavering. "Understood."

Axel stepped forward, placing a hand briefly on Redd's shoulder. "You've proven yourself again. Get some rest. You and your men earned it."

As Redd and his squad walked away toward food and sleep, Axel turned to Jason and Hank.

"We don't just build with the strong," he said coldly. "We build with everyone. Even the weak… if we mold them right."

Hank grunted in agreement. "More mouths to feed though."

"We'll manage," Axel replied. "We always do."

That night, as the fires crackled and guards kept watch, Axel stood at the edge of the village, eyes on the dark horizon where the forgotten town lay.

Tomorrow, he'd bring them into the fold.

Tomorrow, the kingdom would grow again.

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