IV.▬▬✧*:.｡

, 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆

      "𝕺n your right, stands the Ward B. We keep the easiest patients to manage there. The most dangerous are locked in the Ward C on your left. This is the cell block." Jones was straightened to his full prominent height pointing a finger to the buildings cutting off each sides of Carl Grimes' vision.

The lay of the park in the centre of Asworth Institute was an immense field crackling with an immaculate activity. Crops curling up wooden and metallic trellises, sheep clustered within handmade pens leisurely grazing the fresh pasture. Men were milling around, working with one another and hammering the fertile black soil, glossy layers of hot sweat washed their skins like oil. He saw practically no women and the children were an element that didn't seem to be included in the scenery that crystallized in front of his dazed gaze.

The steep, gigantic walls of sienna bricks were lavishly crowned with tourbillons of security barbed wires like the surface of a cake topped with whipped cream. The intimidating pile of blocs that curved around the three wards made Carl's look baffled with both amazement and cogitation.

The boy's eye remained glued onto a dead bird of which inert corpse was stuck within the strangling grasp of the steel coil. Its tangle of plumes and partially exposed flesh fluttered randomly, as the wind blew against its charred wings. Indeed, the perimeter was electrified and the unfortunate bird has chosen the wrong place to refold its pinions against the psychedelic coat of glossy feathers the glorious animal was once clad in.

Except for the charcoal smoke that ascended softly from a hot grill full of meat and drifted graciously over the walls, there was was no way in and out of this place he could detect at the moment. A wave of paralyzing tension ran through the teen's muscle at the thought.

Jones led Carl towards the Ward B, a building of which facade was layered with twisting foliage of ivies and curtains of blossoming flowers. The vibrant network of viridescence and throbbing florescence climbed up the orange red surface with such an elegance that it became hard for the young man to fathom the fact that this place sheltered heads filled with unpredictability and insanity. A constellation of glimmers coruscated across the aequoreal backdrop of his orb with amazement. It was a place of grandeur that held an odd aura of quietude.

Carl trudged towards the doors of the four—floored building, his eye espied a man tending to the grass.

He wore manacled ankles that emitted a series of clang as he walked the ground with odd, duck like steps. Noticing the boy's attention flashing on him, the stranger (he had guessed to be a patient) waved at the teenager with an uncanny smile. Carl's heart braked into a halt as it got trapped into walls of static buzzing with uneasiness. With ribs pressing to his lungs as though they would concave like fingers crushing a can, he swallowed dryly and scurried toward Jones who was beckoning to him with a wide, hospitable grin.

Kaya walked a few feet behind the males, minding her own business as she fiddled with the pages of her sketchbook and paying a minimum of attention to the same patient who was now complaining to her about how the ground was infested by leaves despite his attempt to sweep the turf from them.

"Well give the ground another hit, Daniel." The girl advised him nonchalantly, orbs agglutinated to the sheet of which surface was adorned with pencil—thin, inky strokes.

"Okay....B—but if I hit the ground, he'll be in pain. Him, who welcomed me so cordially." The patient, Daniel, faltered with his eyes turning glossy at the girl's dry instruction.

A sigh escaped past her lips as she ignored the lost man's worries, and sped up towards the duo that was already stepping inside the ward B after Jones had turned over his weapons to the guardian. He had explained Carl a few rules of Asworth and entering the patients bloc unharmed was one of them.

They both reached to an entrance hall leading to a corridor of an impressive length. He started to cross a few steps, but his senses were suddenly alerted by the girl's grunts sounding behind him and Jones. She forced trying to push the door open, rough clanks bouncing off the walls as she did so.

"Kaya." The guardian posted by the gridded door called, fingers around the ignition key that is used to slide the door open.

"What ?" Her head fell in defeat.

"You know how much I hate repeating myself." The guardian voiced in a polite manner.

"I left the arrows and the knife in the Ward A." She countered, voice low and muffled in a flower of strain blossoming down her throat.

"And you're gonna leave the bow and that pencil in your pocket especially. I'm not opening this door if you're not willing to comply with the rules." She sent him a glare, stubbornness threatening to take control.

"Fine." She obeyed and handed her belongings over with nauseous reluctance. After a quick turn of key in the ignition, a low whirring buzz blared off from above them and there was surge of vivid green light. Automatically, with a sound of metal clapping against metal, the barred door slide effortlessly creating a gap, large enough for the girl to get through. She joined Jones and Carl's side, unenthusiastic.

The light dwindled in intensity and a fulguration of blinding red swelled as the gap shrunk to nought. Another clang erupted with the return of the buzzing alarm. She spun around, grabbing a last glimpse of her weapon through the bars. Gritting her teeth, she headed to the endless corridor in front of them muttering under a breath a small "let's get this done and quick."

As he took in his surroundings, Carl's surprise became more apparent on his face at each steps he effectuated. Aside from furtive stains of old blood on a couple of walls, the interior was startlingly clean and well—maintained. Dark beige and brown hues predominated.

They walked the endless hallway betwixt two rows of sculpted pillars that ran the length of the granite floor of which surface glazed brightly beneath their feet. The windows were all barred, soft breeze running past their curtains. Carl's eye was particularly focused onto the beautiful pressed—tin ceiling that contrasted with the stark appearance of the fluorescent strobes flaring overhead.

"All of those people are actually your patients?" Carl questioned the bulky man by his side as they arrived in a spacious room filled with men clad in white clothes.

The boy briefly gaped up at the bulky man, stealing a glance from the visible scar staining the smooth brownness of his skin. The ligature mark circled Jones' neck in a ragged collar of pink and whitened shade. A migraine of multitude whys and wheres swarmed Carl's brain as he made his own conjectures about the causes that birthed to this broad streak.

"Not really but—" The man pulled out a card from his pocket before showing it to the boy. It showed a photograph of the burly man with younger features, small lettering below that read;

JONES COLEMAN
psychiatric nurse

"I was only working as a nurse here. When the virus started to spread in the state; the staff took off, joined their family with the hope to find some refugee camp in, Nebraska; Harrisburg.." He counted and chuckled softly "Canada. I left Philly, and took a chance with Asworth. Someone had to take care of those patients. But when I first came, it was too late. The female quarter— the Ward A."

There was small pause. "One of them here somehow killed herself, she turned and I think you might be able to guess what followed."

"It was a real mess to clean believe me." Despite the shy smile he wore, Carl could hear the lump catching up to the man's throat as the words unfolded with remorse and desolation all at once. A soft frown clouded over the boy's features, cords trussing his core up strenuously and making it bleed with sympathy.

Carl could see a tint in Jones' eyes. A faint stain of sadness mixed with a tone of immovable buoyancy. He had lived enough time in this unforgiving world permeated with murder and cruor to distinct the good people from the bad ones. And it was clear as day. The nurse radiated a warm aura that spoke of a leal benevolence. A power of wisdom and goodwill that Carl had already seen in many good hearts as Glenn Rhee, and Dale Horvath and Hershel Green— it hurt the boy to think about how they all quit this world.

Coming across souls as pristine as the lunar lambency was becoming a rare thing these days. Like finding a lonely daisy blossoming amidst a desert of fractured, parched earths—

Sudden as a flash, fingers dug themselves into his shoulders tearing him off his thoughts. "Look up!" He almost lost his balance, as a random patient was spitting incoherent words at his face, eyes wide and manic. "Helicopters whipping the clouds. They're everywhere!"

"Abed, I think you've lost someone." Carl heard the girl snickered behind him. And finally, someone intervened, ripping the man off of Carl's stunned frame as the patient was hurriedly walked out the room.

"Ev—everywhere!"

"You're okay? I'm so sorry about this, some of aren't allowed of their rooms without someone around. I should've checked before letting you in." Jones told the boy, eyes filled with kindness and worry.

He nodded, focusing on steadying the succinct beats from his core. "It—it's alright. I just didn't see him coming." Carl breathed glancing over at Kaya whose lips were extended into a wry grin. By the sly glimmer flickering in her irises, he knew she was mocking him. And he felt the strong urge to smack it off her face.

"I think you've seen enough of the ward B." Jones turned to the girl. "Kaya, you're good to show him the cell—block?"

"Are you sure? After what just happened?"

"Yeah, I gotta clean the solar panels. They caught more dusts than I thought. Once you're done, you both eat." He instructed placing a warm hand on Carl's shoulders before leaving the teenagers alone.

°•.₊*✧

    Their soles scraped against the pebbles as they wandered underneath a sky awash with mottled grey blended with a dull cerulean, patch of light furtively oozing from the smalls cracks that bored the dense layer of clouds. The air had turned thick, impossible to be drawn in without sensing an unpleasant sense of heaviness dawning into his lungs. The young Grimes only relied onto the sporadic appearance of the wind swirling across the hospital to keep his chest fresh and light even if it was for a brief minute.

Carl was still drinking at the peculiar place Asworth was to him. As he mirrored the girl's hasty steps that thudded hard onto the ground, they tramped past a large, tall barrier made of armored steel. Startlingly, the gate was higher than the walls themselves, its shadow looming over the damp gravel underneath their feet.

He heard a low roar humming from behind the walls, then a klaxon and lastly people calling out.

Posted on a high platform by the impassable gate and hugging firearms against their chests, were residents of the institute who were motioning their hands to whoever was standing outside the tall structure of bricks and fences. And Carl came to a standstill, staring at the sturdy gate that creeped wide open by itself with a monotonous and robotic hiss.

Kaya's brows furrowed with both impatience and bewilderment. She slowly spun to look over her shoulders before joining the boy who just left her side to stay rooted before the only entrance and exit of this place. A couple of cars came in, moving past Carl's unmoving frame, curious pairs of eyes flashing at him from behind the windows.

Then, the familiar chorus of moans and inhuman groans made their entrance inside his eardrums. It drew his full attention, pulling his head like a hook carrying a fish by its mouth.

"There are walkers outside." He mouthed, leaning his body toward the gap that heavily narrowed as the gate slide back. He could briefly get a glimpse of flocks of walkers trapped inside steeled pens.

"And they keep that place safe and invisible." She added.

"This is sick." The boy commented, swallowing the bile rising in his chest. She sent him a look, unreadable and blank, her mouth twitched at the corner lightly.

"Yeah..." She trailed off turning to face him fully, eyes still expressionless. And she slowly shook her head with a fake expression of outrage. "Sick idea of mine. I know, right?" A blatant scoff came off of her whilst she fluidly pivoted on her heels pacing toward the Ward C.

At the girl's answer, his breath stuck to the back of his throat, flabbergasted. He felt like his feet were melting into the ground, veins shuddering in tremor of terminal stupor. But he gulped, crushing the feeling rising in his chest like foaming bitter soap and guided his legs to move forward.

As he went closer to the opposite ward, the texture beneath his body turned smooth and dusty. He was stepping on ashes. Small and compact chunks of burnt concrete were sprawled hither and thither all around the half—destroyed building. It was a scenery of havoc, and desolation that settled in front of him. The Ward B was definitely a kindergarten compared to this side of Asworth.

"Welcome to the Ward C." A joyful plinking sound ricocheted off the walls as she pried the tall and old designed iron-wrought door open "Containing the most dangerous freaks still living in Pennsylvania. Some of them are really cool, smart and gifted with a lot of talent." With an immoderate force leaking from her arm she flung it shut behind them.

A rough and harsh metallic clangour splitting the atmosphere in half as the portal clashed with its door—frame. They were now in a dim, cramped corridor.

"The prisoners. Do they know about what's out there?"

"The most reasonable ones do."

They sauntered the length of the fortified walls under a vast array of archways, tiny shaft of light dappling the stone at very rare occasions. The excessive lack of sunlight slipping in made the area cold and unfriendly which reminded him way too much off the months he had spent in the prison. He fought the urge to shiver against the cold temperature striking his skin in a shower of nitrogen. Carl discreetly sent a sideways glance to his side. She had her nose buried into the material of her scarf, head bending so far down that the teen could only steal a glimpse of her eyes flickering feebly from their opaque shades of brown and inky black.

She drew her head up, shifting from the comfort provided by the smooth fabric around her neck as she parted her lips to speak. "But, many of them always lived in their own world. What's the point in making them accept another reality while they've never done such a thing in the past?"

"Well, I think they'd adapt faster in this new and mad reality than we did. Leaving them outside will only make the world madder, uglier than it is." A scoff blasted from her throat at the boy's comment.

"Hence the fact that they're all locked up in these cells." She said turning a corner which issued to steep and extremely slim stairs. If it wasn't for the chinks of light shafting their way through the gaps overhead, their surroundings would be diving in abysses of black pitchy—tar. Carl glanced upwards, gaze meeting a concordant layout of overlapping bars, hanging chains and metallic walls, and of which shadows split their skins in stark gridded patterns. The smell of damp and rusted metal and gasoline was reigning in the atmosphere. It gave him the impression of being led within a giant maze made of holed cages that were haphazardly assembled together.

His palm was clammy against the cool railing that sent a weak shock of tremor down the length of his spine. The breath he was holding felt uneven, forced in his system and filled with a bitter tinge of anxiety.

He was literally following a weird girl in the depth of a gigantic fortress inhabited by criminally insanes. He wanted to stop but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own, to be driven by a queer sentiment of thrill and thorough curiosity. "Why do you keep them alive anyway, if they're so dangerous?" He asked out of the blue, voice unsteady as they climbed the stairs.

"Jones thinks everyone deserves a chance." She inhaled sharply leaving a small pause. Only the soft clang of metal against feet resounding lightly round the area filled the silence. And she continued as they almost reached the top, "He's that guy, the kind one who makes it without having to shed blood. He doesn't know how to kill and never had to do such a—"

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to be here." She was interrupted by a manly voice. Both of their attention flickered towards a silhouette seated in front of a grey steeled double door.

"Jones send me." She stated. The man's look landed on Carl. The squint of his eyes making the teen's innards quench with a crawling nervousness. "He's with me."

And suddenly his face cleared, a tight—lipped grin stretching over his features.

"I'm Bary. You're Carl, right?" Carl gave him a short nod of the head. "That was a hell of a show you pull out that day." A faint tint of crimson made a small appearance on the skin of the boy's cheeks. "Last time, something like this happened was when Kyle burnt half of the Ward into ashes or when Kaya almost stabbed a patient with a pencil. And he only wanted to play tag with her."

"He wasn't playing tag." She cut in, annoyed.

"You keep telling yourself that, kiddo." He sat back on the chair behind him, putting his headphones on."Have fun." He muttered lowly, tucking his hands into his pockets and slumped his head against the wall behind him, eyes firmly closed.

"Who's Kyle?" The boy questioned as they both went through the double doors and stepped inside the cell—block. Armored doors stood off to their right and left, buried in the dark. Small puddles were laid on the icy and uneven ground, reflecting the only lambency offered by a tiny light bulb hung overheard. The ceiling was pitted, flakes of paint peeling off as it showed the charcoal grey stone hiding underneath.

"A patient with pyromania housed here. He destroyed all the rooms of this ward with homemade dynamite. Only the cells stayed intact."

"You must be conversing about me. Which is a more than debatable topic that I'd be pleased to be a part of. Mind if I join?" A sing—song voice emerged from the nearest cell. Carl's stomach flipped at the guttural shrieks, and hysterical laughs echoing off the doors that lined the concrete barriers of the cell—block.

"I knew my handsome face was missing you. You couldn't resist my attractiveness any longer Kaya. But I forgive you, that's alright. I can still wait for your eighteenth birthday, I might be messed up but I'm not that messed up, darling."

"Gross." She muttered and swung the hinged flap from the vision panel embedded in the cell door revealing the face of the girl's interlocutor. His hair was neatly swept back, the red—copper pigment of it managing to incandesce with glory despite the darkness. Thin, youthful features limned his snowy looking complexion. His eyes were wide, shining in pitch black pearls, the corner of his mouth twisting upward as they met with Kaya's.

"Love has no bonds baby. Besides I'm not really that old, I think I'm 21 or 20. I've lost track of time since I—" his words briskly ceased the instant he noticed Carl's discreet presence beside the girl. "Oh."

"Yeah, Kyle this is Carlo—" She suddenly cut herself off. Carl raised a brow at her, what part of Carl she isn't getting? "...Carl. Carl this is Kyle." She introduced, resting her side fluidly against the wall.

"Well, hello there." He smirked, bringing his fingers around the bars in between them.

Carl felt his jaw clench, uneasy. Again, nodding his head seemed to be the safest way for him to respond. Suddenly, the only bulb that provided a faint light died with no warning and another blood—curling wail followed by brutal bangs went off one of the farthest cells. It caused his heart to slam into his ribs in a wild fashion.

"Shit, wait here. I'll be right back." Kaya told Carl before leaving his side and jogged to the exit.

"Don't worry about her, she won't go too far." Kyle's mumbles tickled the boy's ears. He shut his eye for a brief moment before spinning his look to the patient whose eyelids squinted toward Carl's visage into a narrow of patent perusal. "Lenny becomes a bit more— how do normal people call that ?— oh yes, disturbed when it's too dark. He think someone is raping him when there's no light. They're all chained up, that includes like me." By the way Kyle's eyes shifted across the teenager's figure, Carl knew it— he was measuring him which sent a flood of burning offense and displeasure to the cramped canals of his bloodstreams.

"You think I'm scared of you." Carl held a tint of mockery in his tone, a fiery challenging glimmer within his eye flare as he gazed right through the young man ones. Meeting mad murderers on his path was similar as collecting a new Pokemon card to his collection.

"I think you see a bit of yourself in all of us." He titled his head scrutinizing the boy for a last time with terminal interest. "That's what scares you, right?" He fell mute, tongue unable to form a single word anymore. Kyle chuckled at Carl's deafening silence.

The teenager's jaw hardened, fire surging up his skull. Why are you talking to him, anyways? He doesn't even know you. A battle of thoughts was betiding in his head, doubts dawning on him dangerously. And, the voice of the patient brought him back ."Do you know why that disease is called the Wildfire Virus?" Kyle's tone was now light, as if he were asking for the time.

"I don't know, because it spreads like wildfire." Carl simply responded with no real interest.

"Attaboy." His lips twisted up into a buffoonish smile. "But it hasn't come to an end, yet. Its embers are constantly looking for us. For you. For everyone who tries to put it out . And you, and Dr. Wilson are the Jackasses who are attempting to extinguish it. But arrogant as you all are, you don't know."

"Don't know what?" Carl cocked an eyebrow.

"That you're spilling more fuel onto it."

His orbs gleamed with mischief and diablerie. He stifled a laugh, but it soon became hysterical, uncontrollable to hold in check. The red head went berserk, his frame convulsing with a shock of frenzied cachinnation that erupted from his throat like a fiery bouquet of blaze out of a flamethrower.

Soon, more patients were joining the pyromaniac in a chorus of uncanny cries, heavy bangs and loud chants in foreign languages. It added to the eerie atmosphere already displayed by the sinister appearance of the area. A rough clang bounced off the steel doors as Carl sighted Kaya entering back into the cell bloc, a kerosene lamp hanging in her hand.

"Is that what you call the most reasonable ones?"He said and gave her a look.

She had a sideways grin forming on her visage of which half remained paralyzed due to the thick scar streaking her cheek. The girl bent down to place the lamp on the ground and straightened up before Carl with a mere shrug of the shoulders.

"Doesn't mean their behavior is the most normal."

▬▬▬▬▬ .｡.:*✧*:.｡. ▬▬▬▬▬

This was ewwww but
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Kyle has been introduced
to u all, hoes & Jones is an
angel with Carl and Kaya,
well... she's Kaya

Oh, and btw what do you
think of this book? The
characters? The plot? theories
about what's waiting next? I
know there's only four
chapters but I'm curious.
I need a ✨genuine✨ opinion
from EVERYONE

(Ghost readers reading this:
💧👁👄👁💧)

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