❝ YOU'VE GOTTEN YOURSELF IN
ONE HELL OF A SITUATION ❞
–
It was dark. Had there not been a diminutive slip of light coming from the window of the metal door, she wouldn't have been able to see her own five toes layered in dirt and grime. The grounds were rough and ice cold, irritating her soft legs that held broken skin from toe to thigh, all the way up to the side of her hip bone. In nothing but shorts and a sheer shirt, the girl wished she'd brought at least a jacket to lay her bare legs on. The hard and uneven grounds savagely scraped against her limbs and bottoms of her feet as she scrambled to stand.
Never had her feet been so dirty. They felt as if they were covered in layers upon layers of dust, dirt and whatever else was scattered across the cool cement floors. There could have been spiders and other creepy crawlers slithering across her bare legs as she was out cold. The thought made the hairs on her nape stand upright.
As she stood erect her head began to feel dizzy, like all the blood was draining to her aching toes. Had the room not been empty and dark, it probably would have spun in vicious circles as she hurried towards the door, supporting her weight. She pushed against it, twisting and turning and even trying to rip the handle off. It wouldn't budge as she gave it a violent kick, forgetting she'd been deprived of her shoes. Yelping in pain, she stumbled back and hit the wall, her back sliding down and her shirt riding up. Her erratic heart beat only quickened as she shrivelled up in pain against the cell, mumbling obscenities under her cold breath.
With tears brimmed in her eyes, through the small sliver of glass in the door, she witnessed a man standing with a frantic look on his face. The heavy weight guy hurried off as Winona once again scrambled to her feet and began banging against the door, yelling profanities in between each inaudible word. Letting out a frustrated sigh as he bolted away, she held back from punching the wall as her toe already felt as it had broken into a million tiny pieces.
She gripped it between her fingers and squeezed gently, clenching and unclenching her fingers as she shut her eyes. Calming her breath, she hitched her chin and rested her throbbing head against the cool cell wall. They were gonna kill her. She was almost sure of it. Maybe if her grandmother wasn't back home waiting for her, she wouldn't mind so much. The again, had it not been for the elderly woman, Winona wouldn't have been there in the first place.
Emitting a deep growl, she threw her hands up against the wall like a child having a temper tantrum. She pictured the look on her sweet grandmother's face of her receiving the news. Your granddaughter is missing. It would probably be Rick to tell her. Oh, Winona could imagine how much it would break the man to have to do that.
How could she have been such an idiot? The woman would think she was in a ditch somewhere, being gnawed on by a walker. Rick would kill her herself if she ever did make it back unharmed. The thought made her stomach swirl as she hitched forward, opening her lips wide as she heaved. God, she'd been doing a lot of that lately. Part of her was glad she hadn't had anything to eat. She'd be throwing up all over herself if she had to smell the vile scent of vomit all day long.
Closing her eyes and collapsing back against the wall, her head continued to pound. What had happened? The last thing she remembered there was a bat wielding man standing behind her. Had he hit her while she was not looking? No, that's not possible. If he'd done that, she wouldn't have visions of his barbed wire weapon flickering through her mind.
Aggressively shutting her eyes, she rubbed her palms against her hand and let out an exasperated sigh.
From behind her hands, she could hear the metal door creak open and elongated steps entering the echoing room. Taking her palms from her eyes, she squinted, adjusting to the light and scrambled onto her feet, wincing in pain. Every last bit of her hurt. From her shattered toe, to her scratched up legs and her throbbing forehead, she thought she might die before the bat guy could do it for her. When she stood, her breaths irregular, she could finally make out the man's face clearly. When she'd been running the first time, the only thing she remembered was the weapon he held on his broad shoulder.
He looked to be middle aged, maybe, early to late forties. His hair was neatly combed back and he wore a tight leather jacket with sagged, dark jeans, accompanied by his steel toe boots. Winona's lips parted as she took in his whole appearance, from the salt and pepper beard to the large, rounded eyes. The sight of him screamed Negan. She had no doubt it was the man. Nobody else of lower status would be carrying around such a bold weapon.
She'd scrambled to her feet but she wasn't sure what to do next. As she backed up and hit the wall, she swallowed the lump in her throat and looked towards the ground. She was going to die. Why else would he bring in the fucking bat?
The man scrunched his face and pinched the bridge of his nose as he paced back and forth like a lion in a cage. Winona felt like an ant compared to him. He towered over her as he inched closer, his features cold and his movements smooth. She wished she could disappear or sink into the wall. Finally, Negan took his hand from his nose and raised it in the air theatrically.
"You fucked up." The grin on his face reminded her of the one Simon had given her, only much more chilling. "Yes you did. A colossal fucking fuck up. Oh, you are so going to regret this, honey."
With trembling hands, Winona crossed her arms in an X over her thin, cadaverous stomach. As much as she tried to conceal her compulsive need to barf and cry, Winona could tell that he could see right through her just from his stare. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes, surrounded by a dark void of hostility. Each time she swallowed the forming lump in her throat, it bopped right back up willing her to cry. But she held it back and sucked up the pain.
"What?" He inched forward, lips curving upward in a sly motion. "Nothing to say? I don't fucking blame you. I wouldn't either." He sighed, gently caressing his salt and pepper beard with his callus fingers. Winona noticed how much he liked his profanity.
"If you haven't caught on by now, I'm Negan." He bit down on his bottom lip and stared, head tilted at the trembling girl. "Oh yeah," he snickered, turning away from the girl. "You have really gotten yourself in one hell of a situation, haven't you sweetheart? I almost feel bad for you. Almost."
Negan spun on his heel and eyed down the girl, his gaze slowly dropping down her figure. Her eyes stayed glued to the cement grounds as he stood, relaxed, meters in front of her. "Sit the fuck down." Winona wasted no time sliding her back against the wall, dropping to her bottom. She inhaled sharply at the pressure on her toe. Negan strolled towards her, now towering above her slumped body. Gripping the bat between his fingers, he pointed the sharp weapon at her, slowly grazing it against her soft and dirtied cheek.
"I want you to tell me where the fuck your camp is." He hitched his chin and frowned down at the girl, running his tongue across his bottom lip. Winona gazed up at him from underneath her eyelashes with frightened eyes. Although there was the chance he would find out about her lies, Winona wasn't putting her people's lives in danger.
"I'm alone." She said, almost whimpering. Negan ran his fingers down his scruff chin and rolled his eyes upward.
"Bull fucking shit." The girl shut her eyes and clenched her fingers, digging into the ground so that it hurt. "Tell me where your camp is," he repeated, displaying his top row of teeth, which even in the darkness Winona could tell were pearly white.
"I'm alone. I've been alone for three years now," she said, her voice cracking half way through. Negan bent down so that they were eye level, removing the sharp weapon from the side of her face. Winona let out a sigh of relief she didn't know she had been holding.
"What's your name?" He asked, flicking his tongue over the roof of his mouth. Shifting uncomfortably, she wondered if she should feed him the same lie she'd given Simon and Dwight, or tell him the truth. She had no doubt the two men had told him. He probably just wanted to hear it for himself. So, in fear of getting hurt even more, she stuck to her story.
"Sydney."
"Sydney, huh?" He asked, scratching at his beard. Winona furrowed her eyebrows, noticing Simon and Negan had replied in the exact same way. Negan's eyes bore into hers as he raised his eyebrows, emitting an exhausted groan. Raising from his position at eye level, he threw his hands in the air.
"You're one hell of a fucking liar," he said, grinning, then raised his voice. "Dwight, get the fuck in here!"
The blonde man with greasy, longish hair came walking timidly through the door, bag slung over his scrawny shoulder. Dropping the sack on the cold hard ground, Winona widened her eyes when she realized just who it belonged to. She lunged for it, taking it between her fingers when Negan hollered a quick and muffled halt. Dwight scurried out of the room.
Trembling hands, Negan took the sack from her, ripping it roughly from her feeble grip. He unzipped the backpack, pulling out a dirty, plain black notebook. His hands nearly turned white as she clutched it between his fingers. Winona's heart stopped in her chest.
"Look at this." He grinned, drawling out each syllable. "Man, I haven't had a good read in a while. While you were out cold, I read this. Took me a while but I don't regret it. Best thing I've read in years. My favorite part is when the girl thinks she can be all big and heroic, and fucking steal, then it bites her in the fucking ass. Big fucking mistake."
Winona was torn between wanting to vanish into thin air and spit on the guy. Of course, she would never follow through with such bold actions in the vulnerable position she was in. But oh, how she wanted to take that bat and beat his head in.
"You have done some fucked up shit Winona Caverly." He grinned malevolently. That's when her heart stopped. He said he had read all of it.
That meant he knew about Rick. Her grandmother. Alexandria. Everywhere she'd been before that; Atlanta, the farm, the prison. All of it. She wanted to barf. He was right. She had colossally fucked up.
"Man, I mean, you're one hell of a liar. I'll give you that. But let this be a nice fucking lesson for you to learn. There's no way to get past me. Even if you think there may be a way to trick me, to slip something past my fucking knowledge, I will always be one, two even three fucking steps ahead of you."
Negan gripped the notebook in his hand and held it high. "One thing you didn't cover in this novel of the fucking year. Your whereabouts. So tell me, where's this Alexandria? You described it like it was fucking heaven. Convinced me into taking a vacation there maybe."
He leaned forward and she swore she could feel a hint of his hot breath against her face in the ice cold room. She hadn't noticed how frigid it was until she rubbed her hands together, feeling like ice cubes as she lowered them to her side. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her eyes flickered to the ground.
"I need a doctor." She murmured, her eyesight getting fuzzy. She rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead and closed her eyes to stop the tears from spilling. Negan jerked his head back.
"Doctor Carson? The one you tried to take fucking advantage of? Well, I can try to book you an appointment, sweetheart, but he's pretty fucking hurt. He feels used. That was really low. Even for a girl who's killed people." He dropped the notebook with a thud, echoing through the empty, icy room. Winona's breath hitched as she took it into her care, pulling it up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. He knew about it. Of course he knew about it. He read the whole notebook. He had everything against her now.
"Someone." She corrected, her voice trembling. Negan spun around, almost looking surprised.
"What was that?" He raised his eyebrows, leaning in closer. Winona shut her lids and pulled the notebook closer.
She wondered if she should even continue. With Negan bent down, staring her straight in the eye, she figured she had to. "Someone. I haven't killed people, I've killed a person, and it was for good reason." She spoke a bit louder, but with how quiet the room was, anybody down the hall could have heard her fragile voice. Negan raised his hand to his chin and stroked his textured beard.
"Are you sure about that?" He asked, his lips twitching ever so slightly. She narrowed her eyes and squirmed uncomfortably. She thought if he didn't move from being so close to her she might finally vomit on him.
"Yes."
"Well, your call. I mean, you killed the guy. His blood is on your fucking hands, not mine."
Before he could get another word out of his mouth, Winona cut him off abruptly, a fire burning in her chest. "Fuck you! Fuck you." Her screams were unattractive and faltered to a quiet breathy tone as her breath hitched in her throat. She squirmed, trying to stand up, but a pathetic whimper came from her mouth as she fell back to the ground, tears finally leaving her eyes. Sobbing, she rested her forehead against her knee and wrapped her arms around her scratched up legs. She wanted to die. God, she wanted to die. If her grandmother could read her thoughts at that moment, the elderly woman would have been so disappointed. She'd always taught her stand up for herself. Yet, there she was, as she'd tried to defend herself, whimpering on the cold hard grounds.
"God, you're a fucking mess sweetheart," he pointed out, holding no more than amusement in his eyes. "I'm not even mad cause that was so fucking pathetic. Good fucking job."
"Fuck you," she whispered again, quiet enough that she thought he might not hear. Of course, he did, with how silent and eerie the cement room was.
"Alright, well. I guess a got to draw the fucking line, don't I? Shut the hell up. First of all, you sound miserable. Get your ass up," he demanded, jerking his finger in an upward motion. The girl stood up tentatively, her hands supporting her as her toe began to throb more and more. " Second, we don't do that shit. I'll admit, I kinda fucking enjoyed it, but you don't talk to me like that. Not anymore. You understand?"
Winona swallowed, inhaling sharply as her breath hitched. She felt like the epitome of death. Negan continued, "I want to hear it come from those fucking lips of yours."
"Okay," she mumbled under her breath. Her eyes still didn't meet his.
"Look at me."
She flickered up to meet his burning gaze. He towered above her with the bat swung over his broad shoulder, an unamused expression on his face. He lowered his voice. "Say it again."
"I understand." When Negan's scornful glare molded into a sly smirk, she let out a breath of relief. Maybe she wouldn't die. Maybe she'd really make it back to her grandmother in one piece.
A silence fell over them before Negan spoke up once more. "Oh don't get comfortable yet, sweetheart. I still gotta get you acquainted with Lucille. She read your book, and let me tell you, she fucking loved it. Dying to meet you." Winona's lips twitched downward.
Negan stood stiff, running his tongue across his lip as he hitched the bat in the air. He eyed the weapon as if it were the only woman left on the planet. Winona cringed at the blood stains on the base of the wooden bat. "This is Lucille. Ain't she beautiful?"
When Winona stood passively, lips sealed shut, Negan rose his voice. "Well don't be rude, Winona, fucking answer my question."
"Lovely." She bit her lip, voice hitching in her throat. She cursed under her breath when she realized how sardonic she had sounded.
Negan raised his eyebrows, gaze traveling down to her lips. "Was that sarcasm?"
"No sarcasm." She responded quickly, eyes flickering to the ground.
"Good," he huffed, swinging Lucille by his legs, "cause she sure as shit wouldn't appreciate that."
Winona looked up at him as if he was crazy. She wondered if he really was. How did he get such a position of power by being a lunatic?
"Lucille helps me get rid of the bad people. You know, killers, liars, thieves," Negan sighed, scratching the lining of his rough jaw. "Sweetheart, you just happen to fall under all of those categories. So I want you to give me one good, solid reason as to why I shouldn't beat the shit out of you right now. I mean, I hate killing woman, especially ones that look like you, but shit. I've been here, what? Twenty minutes, talking to you, and you have grinded my gears beyond belief. All you've said is 'fuck you' and tried to convince me your not some psycho killer, which, I don't exactly believe, by the way. So, go on. Cause Lucille is real fucking thirsty." He raised his hand and prompted her to continue.
Winona swallowed, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She figured lying hadn't gotten her anywhere, so she decided to tell him the truth for once. "I've got a grandmother, she's starting to get sick. I've been looking for insulin for months and if I don't get any soon I'm afraid she'll slip into a coma or something. I can't lose her. I can't. It'd kill her to lose me, too." She tried to keep her voice steady but her lasts words fell to a quiet sob.
Negan furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lip. "She's your grandmother?" He raised his brow and took a step back. "If my math is correct, she must be what? Around seventy, right? The woman is gonna die soon anyways, sweetheart. No point in busting your ass and getting yourself killed."
"Don't talk about her like that." Winona clenched her jaw, contemplating taking a step forward. She didn't.
"Woah. Have I found her weakness? I think I fucking have." He grinned, sticking his tongue between his white teeth.
"Don't just- don't." Winona clenched her eyes shut and let out a shaky breath. "Just kill me. Do it, for Christ's sake. Just get it over with."
"Brave, Winona," Negan complimented, inching towards her. "I like you. I think I might spare your life. But I want to hear you say you're sorry first."
"I'm fucking sorry," she spat, almost in a rage as she didn't completely register what he had said. Negan looked taken back.
"I like the addition. Just try and say it like you mean it." He grinned, getting much too close for her liking. Winona took a step back and pushed herself against the wall.
"I'm sorry," she apologized in a quieter tone. Negan let out a sigh of satisfaction and gently pushed her shoulder.
"Wasn't that easy?" He licked his lip. "Now, let's get you cleaned up. We can find out what the fuck to do with you later."