Why Does Glenn Die In The Walking Dead According To Kirkman?

The end of the world was upon us, but there weren't enough spots for evacuation. The roars of the zombies echoed in my ears as my fiancé, Oliver, gritted his teeth and pulled me onto the rescue vehicle—securing the last available seat. I arrived safely at the survivor base. Lina, his first love, did not. The zombies tore her apart. Oliver still went through with our marriage, but I never expected that he had only done so to make me suffer. In his eyes, I was the one who had killed Lina. If she had to endure such agony, then I should, too. For five years, he hated me. My life was worse than that of a stray dog scavenging for food on the street. On the day my divorce was finalized, he kidnapped me, dragged me into the wilderness, and wrapped his fingers around my throat. Then, he threw us both into the swarm of the undead. When I opened my eyes again, I was somehow reborn on the day the apocalypse began. The rescue team was shouting impatiently, "One more! We have room for one more—hurry!" I turned to Oliver, watching his hesitation. Then, with a quiet smile, I took a step back and let someone else have the last seat.

The city was overrun by zombies. My girlfriend, Callie Bernson, the team leader, had taken my best friend, Dan Harrington, and fled in our only armored vehicle, leaving me behind in the shelter to die. Outside, the scratching of claws against metal echoed through the corridors. The defensive barricades were already starting to fail. My heart sank into despair. I raised my gun to my temple, ready to end it quickly, when a stream of floating text suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [It’s hilarious. That cheating couple thinks they’re heading to Paradise, but that place has fallen. It’s packed with high-level zombies now.] [Don’t die, PC! The person in a coma in the shelter—the one your so-called best friend called dead weight and abandoned—is actually the only S-class ability user. Once she wakes up, she’ll wipe the floor with everything!] [Just you wait. When your buddy crawls back here in disgrace and finds the big boss awake, he will go to step in and steal the credit for saving her.] [Hurry up and die already, cannon fodder. I can’t wait for the tragic apocalypse romance between the best friend and the big boss.] I lowered the gun and sprinted toward the quarantine room. Inside, a woman lay on the bed, sleeping peacefully. I strode over and slapped her hard across the face. “Honey!” I shouted. “Time to get to work!”

During a zombie-extermination mission, I end up getting infected with the zombie virus for the sake of protecting my squad. But Emilia Campbell, the team captain as well as my girlfriend, decides to give the only antidote to another team member, who has secretly run away from the squad, only to get infected. Her excuse is that she should avoid being partial. With red-rimmed eyes, she promises me, "Trust me, Zack. I'll definitely find another antidote for you during the three-day incubation period of the virus." I can only nod in response while enduring the scorching pain flaring from my body. On the second day, Emilia actually returns with an antidote. But the second she's about to inject it into my bloodstream, Dustin Nott, a member who has never left the campsite, suddenly frowns. "My head hurts so much, Em… What if I'm already infected with the virus?" Emilia doesn't hesitate to pass the antidote to Dustin in front of everyone else. "Dustin is a part of the team as well. It's my fault as the captain for not taking care of the squad if anything happens to him. "Zack, you're the vice leader as well as my boyfriend. I must be impartial." That's when I notice the smugness crossing Dustin's eyes as well as Emilia's righteous expression. Fury bubbles within me at that moment. She must be impartial, huh? Fine. Emilia will soon understand that the squad would never have survived to this point without me. After all, I'm a perfect evolved specimen—a human being that only has a 0.1% chance of overcoming the zombie virus and evolving into a powerhouse in this apocalypse.

Abductors bind me in a basement, subjecting me to the torment of dozens. Meanwhile, my husband, Evan Foster, dines by candlelight with his lover, Carmen Locke. My abductors grant me one chance to call for help, and I dial Evan's number. I'm certain he will come for me. I believe Evan would give his life for me, as he once vowed that his future held no meaning without me. Clinging to hope, I call the number etched in my heart. However, Evan scolds me for interrupting their date. "You think I'll come get you? Dream on. Maybe I'll bother to collect your body if you die out there." His words crush me, and I do die. Five days later, Evan stands before the autopsy table, grimacing at the mangled remains before him. Even as the police department's finest forensic expert, having dissected thousands of bodies, he condemns the killer's brutality. Yet, despite his cold dismissal of my desperate plea over the phone, he now wears a look of pity. Evan, if you knew these fragments belonged to me, would you still find me worthy of your compassion?

A pack of rogues tore me apart on the very day I went into labor. Instinctively, I reached out through a mind-link to my mate, Alpha Keith Martin. "Keith," I called out in my mind. My voice trembled from the pain. "Help m–" I hadn't even finished when he cut me off. "Can you stop being so annoying? Are you doing this just because you're jealous of Madison? Why don't you just go to hell?" He blocked the mind-link completely. The world dissolved into agony. Darkness swallowed me whole. 'Congratulations, Keith. You got exactly what you wanted. I really did die, and I'll never bother you again.'

In a world ravaged by global nuclear fallout, I struggled to survive alongside my fragile, sweet-faced best friend, dodging one radiation storm after another. The route to the Central Safety Zone was blocked—we had no choice but to use two detonators to blast open the tunnel. Otherwise, we would be caught in the storm, our bodies rotting away until we either dissolved into blood sludge or turned into zombies. … In my previous life, I had risked everything to secure those detonators, only for my best friend to hand them over to a complete stranger without hesitation. "They have elderly people and children on their side too," she said earnestly. "One detonator can save many lives. Iris, you can't be selfish." I was so furious my blood pressure nearly exploded, but with no other option, I went straight into a horde of zombies to steal backup detonators. I lost an arm in the process, drenched in blood and barely standing. Yet, she complained that I was covered in gore and had frightened the children. After finally regrouping with the main convoy, I rushed to deliver the formula for anti-radiation medicine to the research institute so that more people could be saved. But she accused me of stealing supplies and trying to flee, which led to my expulsion from the base, and death, my body rotting away under the radiation. When I opened my eyes again, there was still one hour left before the radiation storm hit. I looked down at the two detonators in my hand, then at my pitiful, tear-brimmed best friend—and I smiled. Since she loved being a good person so much, this time, I would let her be one to her heart's content.