Fuck You, Dixon! (Daryl Dixon x reader)

Chapter 46: Governor

I felt a pounding in my head as my eyes slowly opened. My vision was slightly blurred and my hearing made everything sound like I was underwater, but after I blinked a few times and regained myself, my senses soon cleared.

I was alone in a small room. The walls looked like they were made of thick stone, the type basements were made of, and considering there were no windows around me, I was willing to bet that it was a basement I was in, especially since there was only one exit.

There was only a single, dim bulb that lit up the room, but it was enough to see. The room was full of junk, but the main objects were the table and chair that was in front of me. It looked like a DIY interrogation room...a pretty shitty one at that.

I looked down at myself and noticed I was tied down to a chair. I tried to wriggle out of it, but whoever tied it did an annoyingly good job, so I stopped trying.

Despite being tied up, I didn't think I was in any immediate danger, not right now anyway. If those who captured me wanted me dead, I'd already be a corpse, though, I guess that begs the question;
Why shoot in the first place?
Considering my wounds had been patched up, but I was tied away in some basement, I presumed they must have wanted something, otherwise, why bother keeping me alive?

Just as that thought came into my head, the door opened and a man with a prosthetic arm came in.

He looked looked like a typical redneck. He had extremely short blonde hair, in fact, it was so short that he was practically bald, and all the clothes he wore were baggy and messy. His prosthetic arm wasn't really an arm, more of a built in knife, kinda like the equivalent of a hook for a pirate, except it made sense. All he needed was an eyepatch and he'd be a certified pirate, by my standards anyway.

He smirked at me when he realised I was awake and began to walk over.
"Well, well, looks like sleepin' beauty's finally woken up."
He closed the door behind him after he entered.
"Bout damn time."

His accent matched his appearance, it was a southern drawl. It sounded familiar, like I had heard it before, but, I couldn't remember where. His appearance looked familiar too, but, again, I could'nt place it. I was sure I hadn't seen him before, if I had, I definitely wouldn't have forgotten such an appearance...especially since he was so close to looking like an actual pirate.

He sat on the table in front of me and banged the table with his prosthetic arm, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Ain't polite te ignore someone when yer bein' spoken to, lil' girl."
I looked up to him and his smirk had turned a little angry.
"Mind telling me why I'm here, Mr pirate man?"
He scoffed at me.
"I look like a damn pirate to you?"
I shrugged.
"I mean, if you had a hook-"
He let out an amused huff and stomped his foot onto my thigh, resting it there.
"Why'd ya think yer here, girlie?"
"If I knew that, I wouldn't have asked."
He chuckled and shook his head at me.
"Ye really are a snarky bitch, ain't ya?"
"And you really sound and look like a pirate. What's your point?"
He huffed and leaned closer.
"Wha', don' ya remember?"
I went silent and thought for a moment, thinking about what he was referring to.  My guess, was that it was about those men I killed.
"No, I remember. Your group..Woodbury, I think that's what those men called it, right? They tried to kill me, so I beat them to it."
I made an 'ah' sound and smiled at him.
"You're all a community of pirates aren't you? Robbing, stealing stuff and whatnot. I mean, it's weird, but you do you. I won't judge."
He pointed his blade at me.
"Stop talkin' shit! Ye killed my men in cold blood."
I pouted at him.
"Well you're no fun, are you?"
He poked the blade into my cheek and I just shrugged at him.
"Call it what you want, but if you think of it like that, then why not kill me?"
He pulled his blade away and chuckled.
"I'm wondering tha' myself.."