MAKNAE [twd] *editing*

【131】

Negan rushes to the left and I go right, turning so I run backwards with my bat up in guard. He swings Lucille and I merely dodge it. I look to the broken screen beside me, getting an idea until I remember the glass was now infected with the walker blood and grabbing it would only bring harm.

Backing up more, I pick my bat up to another machine, bashing the tip into a new game. I reach inside, grabbing a handful of the glass.

Negan laughs, shaking his head as he takes quick steps toward me. I throw the glass to his face and he startles, backing away as his free hand brushes the shards out of his sight. While he was distracted, I dart to the right, putting more distance between us.

Oppa.. What would oppa do? Oppa would watch how they fight, quietly scoping out their manners and habits.

Negan is a grown man, twice, maybe three times my size. He had a bat, much like I did, but his was clearly more dangerous as a single hit to my skin would leave me with the inevitable facing of the end.

I was faster, though. Smaller, too. I was able to duck under the tables and run around him where as he relied on his strength.

It would take me five blows to even begin to measure up to a single one from him.

But.. Negan liked to talk as well. He liked thinking he was outwitting the person he could easily outmuscle- it was part of his mind games.

"Why Lucille?" I ask.

"Lucille.." he huffs.

"Daughter? Wife? Mom?" I name off.

"Wife," he reveals, "A real one."

"From before?" I keep it up, sidestepping a bar stool.

"Long before. We got married when we were your age."

"My brother had a wife," I remind.

"Yeah, he did," he nods, "What a shame he ain't ever gonna be able to hold that baby."

I knew I gave an involuntary reaction as Negan laughs, "What? Think I didn't find out about that?"

"Don't," I shake my head.

Then again, there was a reason he liked the mind games- they worked.

"What? Is the baby off limits of discussion?"

"He is for you," I nod.

"What about when he asks how his daddy died?" Negan wonders, "Think someone will have to tell him about me then."

"I'll tell him that his aunt killed the asshole that killed his dad so that he would have a safe future."

"You'll tell him? Darling, one of us ain't walking out of this room. And I think the odds are tilted in my favor."

I take another step back, quickly kicking the bar stool toward him. Negan catches it and I rush forward, swinging my bat at him once more. He leans back, though it still skims his side. He growls, shoving the stool aside and hurling Lucille in my direction. I stumble back, hitting the table behind me. I pull my legs up, sitting on the edge of it and standing up straight with my bat in front of me, looking down at him.

Negan stalks around the table like scouring for prey before suddenly swinging Lucille at my feet. I jump to dodge it, lurching a kick to his head and sending him backwards. With his free hand, he holds his head and I notice a small streak of blood run from his ear.

When I go forward with my bat, he shouts and Lucille is flying my way again. I step back to dodge it, my foot on the edge of the pool table- my ankle bending at an awkward angle that causes me to yelp and fall to the floor.