oh come on | twd

• A Far-Fetched Betrayal •

"You're not getting a knife, I'm not stupid kid," he answered.

Oh did he have a good reality check coming.

"Well can you come cut it for me?" I shouted.

Silence followed for a bit before I heard and saw the doorknob move. I quickly jumped to the side of the door, pressed against the wall out of sight. I saw him walk in and I stayed silent, gripping the fork tightly.
He hesitated. The table and my untouched food was very visible, I was not. The door clicked shut and I jumped on his back quickly, thrusting the fork deep into his neck. My other hand clamped around his mouth. I kept stabbing, but I began to worry that the fork wasn't going deep enough to kill. Just as I began to panic, I caught glimpse of his hand grab his knife.

I stabbed again, deeper this time, twisting and circling the fork deep into his neck. I heard the knife drop and the man also dropped to his knees now. I stayed clung to his back. With a yell of rage, the man launched himself back to his feet and threw himself backwards, slamming me between him and the wall. I grunted in pain. Angered, I stabbed again, and again, and again.

He was getting weaker, but he continued to smash himself back into the wall. My shoulder was in agony now from hitting the corner of the bookshelf repetitively, but I kept at it. As he brought himself forward, ready to push himself back into the wall again, I let go and scrambled out of the way as his back collided with the wall instead of me. Grabbing his knife from my position on the floor, I spun, stabbing him in the knee and then bringing myself forward to stab him again, this time under his jaw.

I left the knife there for a second longer, pushing it deeper as his eyes clouded and he gurgled over his words. I saw the glisten of the knife in his mouth and realised how deep I'd actually stabbed. It had actually gone through his jaw and into his mouth; through his own tongue. I pulled the knife out, a spurt of blood leaving with it. Blood now spilling from his mouth, he dropped to his knees and then the floor.

I didn't want to give myself time to catch my breath. I quickly rolled him onto his back. Keys. I needed to find Daryl's keys. I didn't see any keys on him, but the handle of a gun in his trouser loop, peaking out from his jacket. I couldn't even muster up a smile at the jackpot I had hit because I was fuelled with rage only. Rage and ambition. I checked the bullets. Fully loaded. Now was my chance. I wouldn't fire unless completely necessary of course, if I could go unnoticed I would.

I positioned my hands how I'd seen Daryl do many times. One with the knife, one with the gun and then crossed over. I hoped it was as easy as he made it look. I put my ear to the door, listening for any movement. Silence.

I slipped out of the door, moving quickly and quietly to where I remembered our cells to be. As I got closer, I could hear distant talking. It sounded like it could be Daryl. And Craig? As I rounded the corner I could see Craig leant against Daryl's door, mumbling something over his shoulder through the bars. How was he even on his feet right now? I pointed the gun at him and without hesitating I pulled the trigger. Straight through the head.

Well there goes the silent approach. Silence followed, until all of a sudden I heard the pounding of running footsteps. I turned around, looking down the corridors. Someone rounded the corner, a gun in hand. They pointed at me, but I was faster. I kept at this, shooting at those dumb enough to follow the fate of their friends.

"Amelia! I trusted you!" I heard Negan's booming voice.

He didn't turn the corner. No one did.

"You're smart," he complimented, and I kept my gun aimed to where he'd have to step into if he decided to. "How'd you get past the guard?" He asked.

"Anything I need right?" I shouted back, trying to keep my mouth as still as possible but it still hurt to speak.

"Lia, don't," I heard Daryl mumble. "Stand down, or run. Don't wait on me."

"Shut. Up. I'm not leaving without you," I whispered back harshly.

"Whatever he's telling you, you should listen Lia," Negan shouted to me.

"Don't call me that!" I was beginning to crack.

"I'm just saying, you've already killed, what? Over five of my men? Six? I don't think you'll be getting a sofa to sleep on anymore," he said, and I scoffed.

"It stunk of cigarettes anyway."

My heart pounded, I didn't have a clue what to do. I only had so many bullets left, and reloading it put me at a huge disadvantage. I turned and looked down both corridors. No one was trying to sneak up on me. I took a deep breath; I pray this works. Pointing the gun at the lock on Daryl's door, I shielded my eyes with my elbow and fired. It made a clang noise, and I shook the door. It didn't budge. Panicked, I shot again, and again.

I couldn't do this on my own. I needed him, I couldn't do this on my own.