After your world fell into black putrefaction, you soon realize that walkers are the least of your worries. Tragedy and loss has led you to fear attachment more so than the undead. You thought hiking the trail of survival was best accomplished alone...
Dwight's teal eyes grew dark. His veiny fists clenched. "Remember what I taught you," he said under his breath as you circled each other. "It's just a show." He looked at you as if he'd unleashed a lion from its cage.
"A show?" you spat. "With my freedom in jeopardy and your life on the line?" You bared your teeth, and Dwight's expression became cold as ice. He gauged your position, and you anticipated that he would soon pounce. "Stand your ground for a change, you spineless piece of shit."
He hissed at you like a rattlesnake, "I had no choice!" Raising his arms, he closed in cautiously. "I was on your side!"
Unsheathing your nails, you challenged his stare and crouched lower to the ground. "Don't give me that bullshit. You'll bend to the will of others as long as you know it'll save your ass. Who's team are you on now?"
Dwight lunged forward and grabbed your wrists in his iron grip. "I don't want to hurt you!" he cried as you struggled.
Slamming your heel into his foot, you loosened his hands. He grunted in pain, and you kneed him in his abs, twisting your body free from his grasp. "Neither do I!" you snarled. He staggered back, holding his stomach. You darted toward him and ducked as he swung at your head. Jabbing him in the ribs, you jumped away before he could catch your arm. He whimpered quietly. You knew he was holding back. "Fucking hit me, you pussy!" you yelled, and punched him in the shoulder as you rushed by him. "What the hell are you waiting for? A formal invitation?" The men on the balcony muttered and fidgeted in their places--not knowing how to respond to what they were witnessing. The fight, at first, was a Cold War; it was filled with darting, ducking, barely hitting and missing. The two of you exchanged hurtful words to goad each other into further action, but both of you were reluctant to turn up the heat.
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
After a few minutes of touch-and-go tactics, Negan yawned, "I'll give you girls five seconds to put on a fucking display worthy of my attention. These pussy-punts ain't shit." You both whipped your heads around as Negan raised his jacket to reveal a pistol, tucked in his belt.
Will he really shoot us if we don't deliver a five-star show? Honestly!
"One..." he started to count.
Fuck, maybe he will. He's going to make us dance with that thing...
"...two...three..." he resumed, snickering at you.
Just then, Dwight growled and uppercut you in the jaw, right when you planned to take out his left leg. Your lip was split and blood poured onto your palate. The impact made you gasp and squint your eyes.
"Fucking finally!" Negan laughed and applauded.
You shook off the hit and acted swiftly. Dropping to the floor, you crawled behind him and jumped on his back. He flailed his arms as you wrapped your own around his neck. Punching his ear with your free hand, he fell to his knees. He shook violently, trying to throw you to the floor, but you held on like a boa constrictor. Wheezing like an asthmatic, he rolled onto his back, attempting to crush you with his weight. But to no avail. You wrapped your legs around him and kicked your heels into his gut. His airways were too restricted to wail. Writhing around, you felt your ribs bow under the brute force of this thrashing. You could hardly breathe, and your eyes were bloodshot.
