CONQUEST • Negan

Special Treatment

What was the point in struggling? Why bother when these assholes were going to find a way to drag me down into the mob one way or another?

The best I could do for myself here was to save my pride a little by throwing my shoulders back, lifting my chin, and facing down the people who hated me as much as I hated the nan who was gloating at my back. I couldn't exactly blame them for how they felt either. Hell, if I was on the other end of this, I would have already took my pitchfork and shoved it into my abdomen, gutting myself alive, and that was the merciful fate. So I had to silently thank them all for their restraint, because personally, I wouldn't have shown the same sentiment.

But even still, despite how thoroughly I had hurt these people, there remained a great factor of difference between Negan and I: I could hold my hands up and admit to my sins, whilst he only laughed in the face of his own.

That fact alone backed me up with enough confidence to believe my soul was still redeemable after all this somehow, and when I inevitably met my creator, whoever they may be, their judgement wouldn't be so harsh. Though nowadays, I didn't hold too much faith in a great almighty, even more so with the shit I'd witnessed. But I guess I was about to find that out, 'cos even if Negan had promised not to kill me, he hadn't made any promises that his people wouldn't do the deed for him. I wouldn't have been too inclined to trust him on that anyway. These people were furious and most definitely out for some blood.

It was the trust in their leader to serve suitable justice that kept the mob from rushing at me as we moved to an empty space on the factory floor which had a chair in the centre of it.

On the edge of the roaring crowd, my vision automatically snapped onto the only friendly face I would find in this hell. Daryl. Skin and hair dirty, eyes heavy and tired, until he saw me too and perked up, a subtle panic shining in his gaze that only I would recognise. Anyone else would read it as total indifference.

But I felt another set of eyes, heavy on my back, observing the interaction, watching for any minor slip up between me and my friend. I dropped Daryl's eyes, and glanced back at the onlooker, lifting my brows to Negan, baiting him to kick up an issue with the innocent, silent exchange between Daryl and I.

If I hadn't been plunged into such a tense situation right now, I might've even decided to find other ways to entice a reaction out of Negan who still strongly believed Daryl and I were in a relationship. I saw the way it riled him up. I knew how jealous he got over the idea of me being with another man.

Sometimes, I even blamed myself for Daryl's imprisonment here, thinking that if maybe I hadn't shown that I cared for him so much, Negan might not have targeted him. But despite how much it turned my stomach to know that Negan was interested in me, I was resourceful enough to recognise a weapon I could eventually weild to hurt and cripple the man.

But for now, that wasn't the main focus. My main goal right now was somehow making it through whatever punishment was in store for me, whilst keeping my mental state intact. Only god knew what kind of tortures Negan's deranged mind had the capability of conjuring up.

"You got that furnace fired up, Dwighty-boy?" Negan yelled over the persisting rabble of the crowd. I knew he hadn't asked them to quieten down just to raise the tensions higher and put me even more on edge.

My stomach dropped in dread. What was his plans with me and a furnace? I knew for damn sure he wasn't baking me any cookies in that thing.

Dwight nodded, his hand twisted in the collar of Daryl's shirt as if he might try to run over, sweep me off my feet and dash us both out of here somehow. "The iron's in there, should be ready."

I gasped as Negan gripped me by the shoulder and shoved me down into the chair, then leaning in close, he said, "You hear that, Dice? The iron is just dying for a kiss. I hope you're ready to pucker up and give my piping hot rod a big ol' smooch."