Episode 15 – "The Devil Within"
John stands before the group, calm, collected… but with a shadow behind his eyes."I'm going on a supply run," he tells them, voice flat. Then, almost to himself: "Maybe the devil needs to leave for a while."
He steps into the RV, leaving the farm—and his group—behind. This isn't about supplies. This is revenge.
The target: the group that made him feel like a monster.
The house comes into view. John kicks the door in. Gunfire erupts, bullets punching through walls, splintering wood, tearing flesh. He dives behind a crate, heart hammering, anger surging.
Flashbacks hit him—Freeman's voice, whispering "devil", behind his back. Rage floods him. The memory of his snapped warnings, the threat in his voice, ignites inside him again.
A war cry tears from his chest. Head spinning, vision narrowing, he fires relentlessly. Men drop. A woman. Children. The new leader. John's face twitches with remorse and fury, a storm of chaos and guilt.
Before leaving, he sets the house ablaze. Smoke curls into the sky. Flames reflect in his eyes as he hauls what he can—supplies, food, anything.
Stumbling back toward the RV, he struggles with a cigarette. Sparks fail. His voice rips out in frustration:"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?!"
He smokes finally, hands shaking, breathing ragged. Thoughts of ending it cross his mind—but he can't. Questions whirl, unanswerable: Why did I do that? What made me…?
Hours later, he arrives back at the farm. Cainen opens the gate. Crates of soda, snacks, canned goods, chips—his plunder—are stacked neatly. John stumbles out, haunted, exhausted… not from injury, but mental agony.
He walks straight to the barn, opens his journal. Pen scratches against paper:
Today I lied. Not only to the group, but to myself. A damn supply run, I said… but I killed thirty men today. I don't know how, but I did. A woman… some elderly…
He pauses, trembling.
Even the children.
The pen drops. He closes the journal. Collapsing to the floor, cigarette dangling, tears streak his face. Smoke curls around him, silent witness to the storm inside.
John Van Reap—legend, nightmare, protector, and broken man—all at once.