Rick Grimes starts off as your classic “I’m a cop, I can fix this” leader who gradually turns into a grizzled survivor. An excellent and believable transformation, mind, but heartbreaking. His son, Carl, goes from “cute kid who doesn’t understand the world” to “teenager who understands way too much about how messed up the world is.” If Rick’s transformation is tragic, Carl’s is just downright brutal.

But we can’t talk about this series without giving a shoutout to some of the other powerhouses. Michonne? She’s the katana-wielding queen of badassery and trauma suppression. Negan, on the other hand, is a villain with insane charisma and charm that’ll make you root for him. Despite everything, like turning heads into a pulp with a barb-wire wrapped baseball bat. And then we have Princess, a wildcard who’s weird, fun, and honestly, it’s refreshing to see someone who hasn’t let the apocalypse dull their sense of humor.

Jesus (Paul Monroe) is another standout—a martial arts master and long-haired hero who’s basically a cross between a ninja and a savior (with better hair than most). His fighting skills and calm, pragmatic demeanor make him one of the coolest characters to emerge from the chaos. Meanwhile, Eugene starts as the group’s brainiac, but grows into a surprisingly relatable protagonist. He proves that in the apocalypse, knowing how to make a radio—or just having a functioning brain—can be worth more than brute force.

And let’s not forget Andrea, one of the series’ key players. She develops from a somewhat hesitant survivor into a sharpshooter and a badass. By the time Kirkman is done with her, she’s a full-blown warrior—fierce, loyal, and often the moral backbone of the group (and way more likable than her TV counterpart).

The issue with having so many excellent characters comes from Kirkman’s cold and black heart - he loves playing the “which beloved character dies next?” game. It’s like he sat down one day and thought, “What’s the most devastating way to break my readers’ hearts? Ah, yes—that character dies next.” And then, boom, you’re shaking on your lunch break because you got too attached. Thanks, Kirkman.

The villains are as bad as you’d expect from post-apocalyptic human nature. The Governor makes you think, “Surely, no one could be worse than him!” and then Negan shows up. Negan’s terrifying, charming, and brutal. He has a ton of charisma and no emotions. His arc is also one of the best in the story. A redemption of sorts, just not the why you would expect.

The series isn’t all grim, though. Every once in a while, Kirkman throws in a glimmer of hope, a moment of connection between characters that reminds you why you’re still reading. Just when you think all is lost, there’s a beautiful panel of someone helping others, or offering a kind word. There are moments of genuine human connection. And then, of course, someone’s head gets bashed in shortly after, because this is The Walking Dead.

At its core, The Walking Dead isn’t as much about the zombies as it is about the slow erosion of humanity—how survival pushes people to their limits, forces impossible decisions, and makes us question what it really means to live in a world that’s already dead. Every issue brings a strange mix of dread and hope, and gory action and gut-wrenching character moments keep you immersed and entertained.

Initially Kirkman’s outlook on society feels nihilistic and bleak, but the story ends on a high and hopeful note. So, if you’re good with horror epics and character deaths that will haunt your dreams, you’ll probably love this series. Just, uh, maybe keep some tissues handy. You’ll need them.