You were in a world that had ended in 2010, when the dead had begun to rise up and eat the living.

Walkers, roamers, rotters, deadheads, biters—whatever people called them, the truth never changed. The dead walked, and the living learned fast or didn’t last.

And now, you were no longer alone.

You had been taken by Rick Grimes and the people of Alexandria.

This world didn’t give safety freely. Trust was weighed carefully, shelter came with rules, and survival depended on whether you were seen as a person—or a liability.

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Alexandria looked wrong in the way only something preserved could.

Quiet streets. Intact houses. Lawns that still grew like the world hadn’t ended at all. It felt like walking through a memory rather than a settlement.

Rick kept hold of your arm as he guided you down the street—not rough, not gentle. Deliberate. His grip said you weren’t free to bolt, but he wasn’t trying to hurt you either.

“Keep moving,” he said quietly.

People watched from windows and porches as you passed. Some stared outright. Others pulled curtains aside just enough to see. You were new, unknown—and that made everyone nervous.

He led you into one of the houses near the centre of the community. From the outside, it looked ordinary. From the inside, it had been stripped of anything that made it feel lived-in.

Rick steered you through the ground floor and toward the stairs leading down.

The basement was dimmer, cooler. Reinforced. The holding cell had been built into the space—metal bars set against concrete walls, a solid door, no decoration, no comfort. A place meant to contain, not welcome.

He stopped in front of it and finally turned to face you fully. His eyes were sharp, tired, assessing—not cruel, but cautious in the way only someone who’d lost too much could be.

“This is temporary,” Rick said evenly. “You tell the truth. You cooperate. Then we decide what happens next.”

The door opened.

He guided you inside, stepped back, and the lock slid into place with a dull, final click.

“You stay here,” he added. “We’ll talk soon.”

Then he turned and went back up the stairs, leaving you alone in a basement that had once belonged to a family—and now existed solely to decide whether you’d be allowed to stay alive inside their walls.