𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

74 | THE KILL FLOOR

The tired daylight barely stretched across the depths of the cold room as it seeped through the misted glass window in the top corner. The tiled walls did nothing if not reflect the chilly air locked within the room; goosebumps raised down Tori's spine as she leaned against that cold wall, the feeling akin to someone pouring icy water down her back. Her head softly bumped against the wall, the back of her skull beginning to throb as she sat there in silence, using the dull ache as a distraction from her boredom. Her captures had been silent since Maggie and Carol were taken to other rooms, leaving Tori stewing in thick, weighty silence.

The redhead paced up and down the room like she physically couldn't stand still. Huffing out breaths through her mouth, the stress caused creases to draw across her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her brows raised, as she wandered back and forth, from one wall to the other. Her footsteps were small, almost silent. The walls picked up the small taps, making them echo and bounce around. The thin window, just inches from the ceiling was broken, a small shard missing from the edge of the glass. A draft seeped through from the outside, whistling through the crack.

Despite the discomfort pressing down on her as the silence dragged on over minutes, Tori didn't speak. Her eyes followed Paula's every step, waiting for her capture to ask the questions she clearly had. Paula was smart – making Tori wait. Seeing how long it would take for the brunette to start the conversation, to ask the first question.

But Tori was smart too. She stayed quiet. Waiting and watching, her lips sealed.

The third person in the room, however, wasn't as patient. His relentless groaning in agony leaked into his speech, his voice gravelly as he snapped, "Damn it, Paula, can we speed this shit up?"

"I swear to god, if you don't shut your damn mouth..." Paula groaned. "We have to wait-"

"Babe, I am bleedin' out because of this asshole!" he interrupted, grimacing in pain as he lifted his bad arm to point at Tori's face. Hunched down in the corner of the room, his eyes were darker than night. Piercing wide pupils aimed at her like daggers. "I think she might've hit an artery. Let's kill her, ditch the pregnant girl, and the old one, and get Primo back."

Paula finally stopped pacing, glaring at her partner with hatred and despair. "Have you been paying attention to anything in the past hour? We kill any of them, the deal is off, and Primo will die anyway. So will you."

Tori's eyes flicked between the pair, bringing her knees closer to her chest, trying to make herself smaller. With Carol and Maggie both being taken to separate rooms – Carol with Michelle, Maggie with Molly – Tori felt a lot more vulnerable. A lot more exposed. Trapped alone in the room with the woman who called the shots in her small group, and a man who was ready to lunge at Tori with a killer blow to her head at any second. Only a few minutes had gone by since Rick's last word through the radio, asking Paula if she had come to a decision about his trade offer. She still hadn't agreed to anything, but as long as she was pretending to think it over, at least Tori had reassurance that she, Carol and Maggie would be kept alive.

She kept her head held high, her eyes barely blinking. When she glanced to Donnie once again, she watched how he was tugging at the weak bandages around his arm, wet crimson still seeping through the dirty material. The wound would need stitches, and soon, or he'd bleed to death before they had a chance to get their guy, Primo, back from Rick. He for sure had a few more hours in him, but if Paula was planning to drag the situation out for much longer, Donnie would likely not make it. Especially if he continued undoing his bandages every thirty seconds.

Tori bit the inside of her cheek as she watched him, trying to keep to herself. But he was irritating his wound, and if he was ever going to stop whinging in pain, he needed to stop.