The End Of My World

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

So we formed a plan, Me, Rick, Michonne (sword lady as I like to call her), Carol, and Daryl who had already scouted ahead to make sure this place was real. The group would go around back and rescue the couple.

It was "Fool Proof" according to the cowboy. So we set off towards this Jackass.

—-~+~—-

I'm with Carol as we sneak around the town, I stumble near a gate. The chain link fence making a shit ton of noise. Soon I was pointed at with over 10 guns, I looked behind me to make sure Carol got away. I mentally sigh as I don't see her. When I looked back up I was being hit with the butt of a rifle. The world turned black and the last thing I think is, well great.

When I wake up, my head is pounding, and my vision is blurred. I am in a dark, damp room, my hands bound behind me. The Governor's men didn't waste any time. They wanted information, and they wanted it fast.

The first few hours were a blur of pain. They beat me, their fists and boots leaving bruises and cuts. They used the butt of their rifles again, the same way they had knocked me out. When that didn't break me, they moved on to more creative methods. They tied me to a chair, using a battery and wires to send jolts of electricity through my body. Each shock sent waves of agony through me, my muscles convulsing uncontrollably.

I spat blood at his feet, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. This only enraged him more. He nodded to one of his men, and they brought out a small, sharp knife. They cut shallow lines into my skin, each slice a burning reminder of my refusal to break.

I clenched my teeth against the pain, holding back a scream as the blade traced along my cheek. The Governor leaned in close, his eyes cold and calculating.

"Tell us, or this will get worse," he hissed.

I glared at him through swollen eyes, defiance burning in my gaze. "Go to hell," I muttered, spitting more blood at his feet.

Enraged, the Governor grabbed the knife himself and slammed it into my shoulder. A wail of agony escaped my lips, echoing off the walls of the small, dank room. The pain was searing, white-hot, spreading through my body like fire.

Where are they, I thought desperately. I couldn't give them up, not like this. They were my family, my reason for fighting. They had to come for me.

The Governor twisted the knife, and I cried out again, the room spinning around me. My vision blurred with tears of pain and frustration. But still, I refused to break.

"You're going to regret this," the Governor said, his voice a low growl.

He pulled the knife free, leaving me slumped against the chair, blood dripping from the wound. Darkness threatened to overtake me, but I fought against it. I can't give up now. I had to hold on, for them. As the Governor and his men left the room, leaving me alone in the darkness, I focused on one thing: the hope that Rick would come and rescue me from this hell hole.

Days blurred together in a haze of pain and darkness. The Governor would leave, and his men would take turns tormenting me. They deprived me of food and water, hoping to weaken my resolve. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the ache in my body a constant reminder of their cruelty.

Despite the agony, I held on, thinking of Rick, Daryl, Carol, and the rest of the group. They would come for me. I just had to hold on a little longer. Their faces were my anchor in this sea of despair, their strength my shield against the horrors of this world.

Then, one night, the fourth, fifth, maybe even the sixth night I had been cooped up in this filthy place, I heard it—the faint sound of gunfire and shouting. Hope surged through me like a wildfire. They were here. Rick and the others had come.

The noise grew louder, echoing through the corridors of the building. I strained against my bonds, my heart pounding in my chest. Tears of relief and joy welled up in my eyes, mixing with the blood and grime on my face.

I heard familiar voices shouting commands, the distinct sound of gunfire and the unmistakable twang of Daryl's crossbow. The sounds of battle filled the air, a cacophony of violence and determination.

"Over here! She's in here!" I heard Rick's voice, strong and steady, cutting through the chaos.

The door to my cell burst open, and Daryl rushed forward, his hands quickly working to free me from the ropes that bound me to the chair. "Hang on, we got you," he said, his voice filled with urgency and relief.

As the ropes fell away, I collapsed into Daryl's arms, weak and trembling. Rick and Michonne supported me as we stumbled out of the room, the sounds of gunfire and shouts of victory echoing in the distance. Gunshots continued to echo,

We found Glenn and Maggie in another room, both looking battered but alive. We pushed through out pain and walked out and into this arena, walkers lined the outside edge. Merle in the center trying to clear a path for us. What the Hell is wrong with him, he was on their side, now ours. This sly fox was not getting out of this torture this time, I was going to have at him when we were healed and safe. As we reached the outside perimeter, I saw Carol waiting by a tree, she took over Daryl's spot next to me and helped get us all out of the line of fire. We all rushed into the trees, Rick and the rest of the group not far behind. "We need to move, now!" she shouted again as we all continued to "run" away. My body ached, and every breath was painful, but I couldn't help the small smile that crept onto my face. I was "safe" or at least that is what I told myself.

Merle stayed at the back of the group with Rick as we marched through the forest. "Stop" RIck shouted not too long later. I was lost in my thoughts when we stopped, The Governor had shown us just how ruthless he could be. But we had also shown him our strength, our resilience. We had escaped his grasp, and now, we were more determined than ever to bring him down.

"Artemis" I was shouted at, disrupting my thoughts and bringing me back to the current world.

"Are you okay, can you continue?" Rick asked in a serious tone to his voice but his face was full of concern. I only nod, not trusting my voice. We were up again and stumbling our way to the prison.

it was our second night outside traveling to the prison when Glenn spoke up, worry covering his voice. "Guys, I need to confess something."

No one answered, so he continued, "I told them where we are staying." I whipped around so fast that I almost fell. Thanks, tree. "You what?" I growled.

"They were going to hurt Maggie," his voice soft and sad.

"I couldn't let them." I only shook my head and turned, continuing to walk, stumbling, through the forest. We arrived at the prison two days later. Hershel immediately took Glenn and me into the medical cell. He started to tend to our wounds. Each bandage applied felt like a reminder of the danger we faced, both from outside threats and from within. Even after getting patched up I strode up to my bedroom, cell, and layed down. It was easy to lie in bed now; the wounds took no time at all to heal. My mind kept swirling with possabilities, even so, I was up and moving the next day.

But I was on alert. I knew the Governor, or whatever the dickhead's name is, was coming for us. I had pestered Rick relentlessly about bigger and better defenses, but the man wouldn't listen to reason as he tended to the garden and his two children. Restlessness drove me to walk around the prison grounds, scanning for any signs of trouble. The place felt vulnerable, despite the fences and watchtowers. I found nothing unusual, except I caught a glimpse of Merle not once, not twice, but three times since I started walking.

What was he planning?

Merle Dixon was a wildcard, a loose cannon with a score to settle. His presence around the prison raised alarm bells in my mind. Was he scouting for the Governor? Was he gathering intel for an attack? I kept my distance, watching him from the shadows, trying to piece together his movements and intentions. I didn't trust him, I had a gut wrenching feeling that he was up to something, even if I couldn't prove it, it was there.

Each time I saw him, he seemed more purposeful, more focused. It sent a chill down my spine. Back in the prison, Rick was preoccupied with domestic matters, oblivious to the looming threat. I had to convince him to take action, to fortify our defenses, to prepare for the inevitable confrontation. The days passed in a tense haze. I continued to patrol the perimeter, my senses on high alert. I was ready for whatever came next.