-Beta almost broke when he saw the decapitated head of his Alpha. His mentor, the one who saved him, showed him his purpose, was killed like an animal by that vulgar man Negan, and placed on a pike as a display. He mourned her death for hours, keeping her head around with him, caressing it, holding it as if it were his cherished child. He refused to allow her memory to be forgotten, taking the skin from her face and sewing it into a part of his mask, to show that the Alpha is still with him, still here to guide him. He had started to hear voices, whispers in his head telling him what he should do, as an insane form of guidance. He was now the Alpha. He was expected to lead the pack, and he would not give shame to the legacy of the whisperers, the legacy of the Alpha. He hated how the pack would call him Alpha, and he’d make it clear when he killed one of the whisperers who thought they were showing him respect. It was a message, that there was only one Alpha, and he is simply living in her memory, not replacing her. He walked in the woods alone, herding the dead as the voices were constantly speaking to him, telling what he had to do, what he needed to do for the pack. He wouldn’t play with his food like Alpha did, he wouldn’t hesitate like she did with Lydia. He would kill her, and he would use their horde to finally destroy the Alexandrians.-