"Well aren't you a little sight for sore eyes," he said and the girl I held shook under my touch.
I knew she was terrified. I could feel it. The vibrations of her fast heartbeat thumped against the glass. I had to release some of the pressure I had on her when I heard the splashing beneath her. The woman had pissed herself.
"Let us go. Daryl. And me." I didn't even care that this was killing my mouth. I wanted to leave.
"Well I don't think I want to Amelia," he said walking around the woman next to him to stand more in front of me.
"Ah ah!" I said, bringing the shard closer to the woman's neck I held and he stopped, raising his hands up in surrender with a smile.
The door burst open. The woman flung her arms up, trying to grab my face and in a swift motion her throat was slit. She had barely made contact before I'd ended her life. And I didn't regret it one bit. I heard her gurgle on her blood before she dropped to the floor, spilling it with a dark red puddle. I was grabbed from behind, my arms pinned behind my back and I didn't fight. I couldn't be bothered anymore.
Negan walked forward after the glass shard was ripped from my hands by one of his men, cutting my palm through the fabric I'd wrapped it in. I glared at him, much like he did me. His glare seemed to vanish though, a large smile spreading over his features.
"Bring her to my room," he said.
I was dragged and pushed to a room, following behind Negan. It was a nice room, I had to hand it to him. Sofa's, a nice table. Nothing like Alexandria though. There was no homely atmosphere at all. Quite the opposite. But nicely furnished. A woman laid on the sofa, barely clothed but it was hard to see from behind Negan.
"You can let her go," Negan said, and the man released me. "Go on. Out."
The man left and I looked around. There wasn't much I could use here to my advantage but I'd work on it.
"Do you want me to leave?" I heard a familiar woman's voice and Negan nodded.
I tried to get a glimpse at the woman, but her blonde hair covered her face to the point where I could only make out her jaw, which didn't help an awful lot.
"Come on. Sit," he said after the door locked.
I stayed still, remaining stood as he relaxed comfortably on the sofa, man spreading obnoxiously.
"Okay then. Who did that to your face?" He asked, leaning forward and pointing to my cheek.
"What, you didn't order them to do this?" I sneered.
"I don't hurt kids."
His voice was matter of fact, offended almost. I raised my eyebrows. Did he forget about how he was going to have Carl's arm cut off? Because I hadn't forgotten. And I wouldn't.
"Tell that to your boy David."
I leant against the wall, my arms folded as I frowned. It made me wonder if he even knew what David had done when I'd met him on the road. I'd keep it to myself for now.
"Was Craig with him?" He asked, with a smile.
I nodded.
"I always knew that pair would be trouble. They're too close for my liking." He stood up, grabbing Lucille and walked towards me.
I continued to stare at him, my expression the same as always as he slung his arm over my shoulder, leading me to the door.
"Gary, go get Daryl. You know where to take him." He said, making a sizzling noise and Gary nodded quickly, scurrying off towards the cells.
I felt sick to my stomach having this man's arm around me. I needed a weapon, and soon he'd never be a problem to anyone ever again. It could be a suicide mission, but if it brought the justice we all deserved it would worth it.
Negan led us to a balcony, overlooking what looked to be a cafeteria of sorts. There was lots of people, a lot more than I had thought would be here. He banged Lucille on the metal bar and everyone looked up. Some looked at me with shock, others with disgust and anger. Resentment. It was clear to see that I wasn't a fan favourite here.
"Everyone. I'm sure you're aware of Amelia. Now, as your leader, it's come to my attention that some of you, think of yourselves as your own leader."
We began walking down the stairs, Negan's arm tightly around me. In a way, it felt almost protective of all the other evil people in the room.
"You." Negan pointed his bat at Craig. "And you." He pointed Lucille at David.
On cue, some of Negan's men, who I hadn't even noticed walking behind us, grabbed the two men by the shoulders. Pure terror was painted on their faces and I couldn't help the satisfaction course through me seeing them scared.
"C'mere Daryl," Negan said, and Daryl walked forward.
His eyes glanced at me, before landing on my mouth and cheeks. He looked away and at Negan.
"Now, I'm sure you understand that what these pricks did was not okay. And despite what you think. I'm not a bad guy," he laughed, this whole situation amusing to him.
Daryl didn't say anything. His eyes were now solely focused on Negan's arm slung around me. I felt truly broken in this situation. I couldn't help him with how he was feeling never mind whatever they'd been doing to him physically. Had he even eaten? He looked exhausted.
"Now. These guys," he gestured between the two shaking men. "Are gonna get what they deserve! Because nobody hurts Amelia and gets away with it, isn't that right Lia?" He laughed, and I cringed at the way he called me Lia.
"Don't call me that," I gritted my teeth.
He patted my shoulder before two men came and grabbed both me and Daryl, holding us in place as Negan approached the two men. A man, a fairly old one, came and handed Negan an iron.
I looked at Daryl, who was already looking at me and back at the men. The man's hands were tight on my shoulders, leaving my arms completely free otherwise. I reached over and grabbed Daryl's hand squeezing tightly.
"What? You just thought I'd never see what you did to her pretty face? Poor Carl's never gonna wanna look at her again," Negan said to David, who looked at me and back at Negan.
"I'm sorry Negan," he said quickly.
"No, no, no!" He shouted, his voice booming against the walls. "Say sorry to the lady!"
"I'm sorry Amelia."
I looked away, refusing to look at the creature who's eyes flickered between me and Negan.
"What do you say Amelia. Is sorry gonna fix your face?" I didn't answer.
"Yeah, I didn't think so either."
My eyes were brought back to the men when the piercing screams of David met my ears. As much as I didn't want to look, I couldn't pull my eyes away from the melting and sizzling of the man's skin. The iron was pressed firmly to his cheek, and Negan didn't look like he planned on taking it off any time soon. After what felt like forever of listening to his screams, the sizzling stopped as Negan pulled the iron away, melted skin stretching between the iron and the remains of his cheek.
I felt sick just watching it which was strange since gore never used to bother me. Granted I didn't enjoy seeing it as any normal person would either, it never used to affect me. But this, was a whole new level of extreme.
Daryl ran soothing circles on the back of my hand and I only realised just how much I was squeezing it. David dropped to the floor, hands shaking as he held it up to his face. I never thought the sobbing coming from a man would be as scary as it was. It was horrifying.
The iron was handed back to the man, who began to heat it up in the furnace again. At this, Craig began to thrash in Negan's men's arms, screaming so loud that my ears hurt.
"No! No! It wasn't me that did it, it was him! Always him! I'm sorry Amelia, I'm so sorry! I never should of let David do those things to you! Please, Amelia! Tell him it wasn't me! Tell him!" He screamed.
"Now, now Craig. You know as well as everyone here." He paused, allowing himself to grab the iron. He looked back to me and Daryl with a smile. "No exceptions!"
I squeezed Daryl's hand again as more screams reached my ears. No exceptions. I knew Daryl's mind had went to the same place mine had gone. Glenn, Abraham, Tyreese. The images flashed through my mind as clear as ever.
Would they even survive after this, after the shock? Part of me hoped they would so they'd have to suffer with a scarred face like I would, then the other half of me wanted them to never walk the earth again.
"Take this as a lesson everyone. Nobody, and I mean, nobody! Can touch these two. And if you think you can cross me and get away with it? Spoiler alert, you can't," He smirked.
He dropped the iron, letting it clatter to the floor and walked towards me and Daryl again.
"Amelia, you're coming with me, Gary, take Daryl back to his cell."
————————
Being sat back in Negan's room again was strange to say the least. He'd gave me a glass of water and was being strangely hospitable.
"How do you like the place? Is it everything you thought it'd be?" He asked, gesturing around.
"It's shit," I said flatly.
"Well if we're being honest," he said, that constant sarcastic tone lacing his voice as always. "You scare the shit out of me."
I watched as he laughed and leant forward to peer at me over the table.
"I killed your friends, just burned two guys faces off, and you still sit there with a straight face," he laughed shocked. "And, you broke out your cell and killed one of my wives. You, Amelia," he pointed at me, "are a force to be reckoned with."
"And you still chose to keep me here," I pointed out. "Who keeps someone around that they're scared of? Especially a leader."
"Well, what leader would I be if I let my people see weakness? And I'm sure you know the saying; keep you're friends close but your enemies closer."
I stayed silent. He had a fair point, but if he was as scared of me as he said, he wouldn't take the risk.
"You see, I think that if I gave you a knife right now, you wouldn't try get me," he said, making me wonder why he was actually scared of me. "You'd wait. Pick off as many of my people as you could. And in my opinion, that's scarier than you trying to stick me where I stand."
"Give me a weapon and find out."
He laughed, throwing his head back obnoxiously.
"You already have one. Scratch that, you are one," despite what I thought to be a compliment my mind couldn't get over what he'd said about me already having one.
Upon noticing my silence, he gestured to the right of me. I followed his gaze, and upon a small square table, laid my clothes, folded up in a neat pile. With no belt.
"See, I distinctly remember you wearing that bulky belt you had on? The one with the blood on it? Even remember a bit of walker guts on it. I don't see it on the pile."
I stayed composed. I'd forgotten I even still had the belt. Now that he's mentioned it, I could feel the leather around my stomach, safely hidden from sight under my sweatshirt.
"It's okay, you can keep it. Because you're gonna tell me why you're so attached to it," he stated.
"I like it," I lied, and he laughed, disbelieving. He raised his eyebrows, pushing me to explain more. "It was my dad's," I gave in.
"Oh? Do tell me more," he said.
His interest was very clearly fake. Not in the way he was making it out to be.
"He's dead. I wanted to keep something of his. Not pawn it off to your little burn victims," I said.
"Aw, did daddy not fight the walkers off? Daddy wanted an easy way out?"
"I killed him."
"Wow! You are fucked up! I am so proud," he smiled, and I looked away.
I didn't want praise from the man who had ruined everything good that was in my life, in all of our lives. How could we ever truly be happy again after what he'd done? We couldn't, that was the base line.