This -- this was Merle’s home. The place he felt most welcome. A grin split his features as he stepped into the ring. Walkers on chains groaned and reached for him, unable to actually get to him. He gave a boisterous laugh and threw his arms up.

“You fine folk ready for a fight?” he called in his thick drawl, waving his prosthetic hand along with his real one. His teeth were barred in a snarl of a smile, eyes crinkled in dangerous excitement.

They were cheering. For him. In all his life, no one had cheered for him, not even his own family. But here? Here, he was a goddamn legend. He rolled his neck, his eyes catching on his new opponent. He would not give up this limelight easily.