Not Ever Again

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A/N: THIS WHOLE STORY IS ONE BIG POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION!!!!
      
                                          •••

The end of the world was the best thing that ever happened to Asher Whitman.

She was just celebrating another shitty birthday alone in a basement when the disease struck Montgomery, Georgia. Of course, she wasn't aware the outside had fallen apart without her- she was too busy falling apart herself at the cruel hands of her parents. A steel-toed boot rearranged her guts by force and her spine rattled against the concrete wall.

"Fucking waste of space! I should've aborted you when I first found out!" Her mother's voice cut sharper than anything her father could muster in force. Her own parents wished her dead more than anything else in this world. She didn't dare speak back to them, that only ever made things worse and left her far more bruised than she usually is. Asher simply took her beatings in utter silence and waited for them to be done with her so she could shuffle to her bed and dream of a better place. Anything was better than this.

This time was different, the sounds of shattering glass interrupted their routine, followed by low guttural moans. Her father grumbled in hatred before giving her one final kick to echo the room with the snap of a few ribs. The two left her in the basement to see who had the audacity to break into their home in the middle of their fun time. Joshua Whitman was the first to ascend the steps, dark eyes narrowed and enraged. Second was his wife Emory, who slammed and locked the basement door behind her. At the sound of the door closing, the zombies shuffled into the hallway, grimy teeth gnashing at the air in hunger.

"Who the hell do you think you are, asshole?" The corpse simply snarled back in response before reaching out and gripping his arm with an unnatural strength.

"What the fuck?!" The zombie lurched forward and sank his teeth deep into his jugular, crimson blood splattering across the pastel yellow walls. Emory shrieks and whirls around to run back for the basement while her husband and the zombie drop to the floor. Her hands shook as she fumbled for the keys and battled with the thick padlock. She clicked it open and turned it but never got to lift the bar free. A zombie had reached her and bit down on her shoulder as another dug it's ragged fingers into her stomach. Asher heard the screams of her mother, and it fired an instinct in her body to run to her aid despite the hatred she's treated her with.

"Mom! Momma! Please! Let me out! I can help! Mom!" All she got in return was gurgled and the sickening sound of crunching and squelching. Asher stumbled away from the door and curled up in the furthest corner from the barrier, her forehead pressed against her knees.

"You'll be okay, you'll be okay, you'll be okay." She whispered to herself over and over again until the noises faded away. It felt like an eternity before anything made a noise outside her door, small scratching and low groaning.

"Mom?" Her shy voice turned into small shrieks when whoever or whatever was on the other side started to bang and attack the door to get to her.

"I'm sorry, please don't be angry with me. I'm sorry." Asher returned to her curled position and fiddled with the loose strands of her ripped jeans.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Asher." Boots clonked against the wood above her head and she froze in fear that it was Joshua coming back to beat her for whatever happened up there.

"Looks like this place just got attacked." The muffled voice that came through the wood didn't sound like her father. Maybe it was someone coming to take her away. Maybe it was whatever broke the window upstairs.

"Poor bastards didn't stand a chance." This was a second stranger, this was her only shot at getting free of this hellhole.

"Oi, this thing's got some badass lockage. Wonder what they were hidin'." Fear froze her in her skin but her mind screamed for her to say something or to make a noise at least to entice them to break the lock and free her.

"Then why don't we find out, baby brother." The lock rattles before thunking to the floor and the hinges creaked softly as they swung open. Boots made the wood steps squeal and Asher instinctively curled up to cover her head and vitals.

"Hey, that looks like a person. Think it could be one of the walkers?" Her body started to violently shiver in anticipation for an attack.

"Nah, that's a living human right there. Ey, you alive over there?" Asher slowly unfurled enough to lift her head and peek at whoever was in her home. Two grimy men stood with crossbows held loosely in their hands. She sat up a bit more and slowly nodded to prove she was alive and not a walker or whatever he called her before.

"What are you doing down here?" This came from the less scruffy of the duo, he looked to be the younger of them too- maybe mid to late forties. She bit back the ball of tears in her throat and roughly swallowed.

"This is my room. I live here." The men have each other looks and then glanced around the room. There was nothing here, a crumpled of dirty sheets and a meager pile of immaculately folded clothes.

"This ain't no room, this is a cell." He took a second to study the girl closer: she didn't look any older than fifteen, everything about her looked tired and pale from her watery doe eyes the color of the sky to her messy blonde hair. What caught his attention the most was the badly hidden bruises on her arms and cheeks. Slinging his weapon across his back, he held his hands fanned out wide and slowly stepped towards the frail girl. She warily eyed him as he approached, ready and waiting for the lunge and the attack. But it never came, instead he knelt down a few feet from her small frame and his lips slowly frowned when he got a better look at the bruises and cuts.

"They were hurting you, weren't they?" The quiet kindness of his voice broke something in her, causing tears to explode over her lashes and stream down her cheeks to drop off her chin.

"Yeah." He nodded and silently waited for her to cry herself out before he thought about approaching. Move to fast on an abused kid and they're liable to hurt themselves in their panic.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to cry." The older brother spoke this time, his voice more gruff than his brother's but still kind.

"Yer all good, sweetheart, ain't no sense in apologizin fer somethin you can't control." Asher faintly nodded and swiped at her cheeks and nose to wipe away the water. "What's yer name, kid?" She softly hiccuped and struggled to find her words.

"Asher." The boys smiled softly at her word.

"That's a nice name, Asher. Say, would you like to come with us?" She looked down in thought before slowly looking up at them again.

"Does it hurt, being out there?" Her arms curled around her aching stomach at the idea that out there was going to be the same old beatings as the ones in here.

"Is it okay if I get closer?" Asher softly nodded but still warily watched as he shuffled towards her. He moved until he was a few inches away but didn't go any further in case she felt too uncomfortable.

"I swear to you on my life, that I'll protect you. Ain't nobody gonna hurt ya like they did. Not ever again."

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