Daryl's Angel: Saviour (Book Two)

Chapter 48: The Cell

Daryl tells himself that he can handle everything the Saviours throw at him, but these sick fucks know a thing or two about mental torture. When he arrived at their base, the Saviours hauled him, half-conscious, from the back of the van and tossed him into a concrete cell with no fixtures of any kind, the only light bleeding in from underneath the door. They stripped him of his clothing and someone hastily patched his gunshot wound, and then, all too quickly, Daryl was left alone in the dark, naked and utterly humiliated. That would've been enough, but they made it worse.

Music plays at random intervals. It's always the same stupid song with that stupid perky voice and the horns and the snapping, clapping beat that always seems to come back the moment he tries to sleep. It blasts through the walls of his cell, filling his ears, never leaving him alone.

"We're on easy street...and it feels so sweet! 'Cause the world is but a treat when you're on ea-sy street!"

The floor is cold and hard against his bare skin and the air is hot from the lack of ventilation, leaving him sweating and shivering all at the same time. Dwight stops by to feed him sandwiches made from some kind of mystery meat. Daryl ignored the first attempt at feeding him, but hunger took over by the time Dwight came by a second time. The smell is pungent, yet the flavour is bland and the texture is closer to soggy oatmeal than anything else, but it's all he has.

Daryl spends endless hours huddled in the back corner of the cell, naked, dirty, and tormented by that endless song.

When Dwight unlocks the cell and hands Daryl his daily sandwich, Daryl expects that to be the end of it. This time, Dwight throws a bundle of cloth at him, and Daryl flinches as it hits him.

"Get dressed," he snaps.

He obeys. Dwight returns and drags him from the cell, hauling him around like a dog on a leash.

Daryl takes it all in silence as the doctor checks his wound, telling him that Negan will care for him if he just allows it. He stays silent when Honey tries to speak to him—she remembers him from the woods, it seems, and it turns out her real name is Sherry. He stays silent when Dwight drags him out into the sunlight, giving Daryl a full view of the factory holding him captive.

The fenced entrance leading up to the factory is filled with walkers. They're chained to the fences and concrete blocks, creating a maze of biting, clawing death, and men dressed in the same tan sweatsuits as Daryl run around inside, herding walkers and evading their grasp as best they can.

"That's you, asshole," Dwight hisses as he shoves Daryl against the chain-link fence. There's one walker nearby who looks fresh, a guy with red hair. "Unless you're smart. Your choice. You could be like them...or me."

Then, it's back to the cell. Daryl crawls to his corner as Dwight lingers by the door.

"Make it easy on yourself," he says.

Daryl glances at him. "I ain't ever gonna kneel," he says. It's the first thing he's said in three days.

"Yeah, I said that, too."

"Yeah, I know."

"See," Dwight sighs. "That's the thing, man. You don't, but you're gonna."

Back into the darkness, the lock clicks, and Easy Street returns.

----------

Daryl should have known better.

Fat Joey, a Saviour who lives up to his name, brought him his sandwich this time. This time, when the door closed, Daryl didn't hear the lock click.

He blames the days and days of disjointed, terrible sleep. He blames the exhaustion. He blames his dumbass self. He doesn't see the obvious trap until he's already run straight into it.