Haunted | Daryl Dixon

51. Fading Freedom

The two pairs of footsteps that clipped against the concrete floor were vastly different in appearance and intention. While Negan's echoed along the hallway menacingly and with purpose, Evelyn's were slow and timid.

While the man just smirked and swaggered forward without much glances to his side, the brunette woman couldn't help but stare with a slightly agape mouth at the people that lined the sides of the hall. The people that had gone wide-eyed and dropped onto one knee the second her and Negan came into view.

Even after Smith passed them, they refused to raise their heads. Whether it was a sign of fear or respect- possibly even both- Wright didn't know.

Negan just sauntered along, that damned bat rested almost mockingly against his leather-clad shoulder and a look upon his face that still didn't fail to send shivers down Evelyn's spine.

Besides the pure terror at realizing that not only was her former best friend running such a horrible place, and becoming a feared enough leader to insinuate the terrible things he had done as well, Evelyn couldn't help the prickling of confusion that rested in the back of her mind.

The only time Evelyn had ever seen Negan try to lead anything besides a gym class was back during their first year teaching together. She had desperately needed to use the bathroom and when she saw him in the hallway, she all but dragged him into the classroom, begging him to watch her class for a few moments.

When she returned- only three minutes later- everything was in chaos. Students were standing on the desks, notebooks and paper airplanes alike were being hurled across the room. All while Negan was standing in the front, eyes wide and mouth agape, at a clear loss of what happened or how to fix it.

It had taken thirty minutes for Evelyn to get her students to calm down after that.

Only a few years prior, he had barely been able to contain a classroom of twenty-five teenagers, and now he commanded what appeared to be hundreds of loyal soldiers.

Besides just that, the woman wanted to know above all else where her old friend was. Where Lucille was.

After Negan had taken her out of Daryl's cell the night prior, Evelyn had asked him where his wife was, and the man had averted his eyes, quickly making a joke about it being late and needing to get some shut-eye.

She had pushed further, only for the door of her temporary room to get shut in her face and locked from the outside, halting all investigation on the matter.

That had sent a weird feeling to the pit of her stomach, knowing deep down what the answer was. That her dear friend was no longer around. But she wanted to know how. And she needed to know if that's what prompted Negan into becoming whatever monster he was today.

When he had opened her door the next morning and found her asleep, curled up in a ball on the floor- she had refused to sleep on the bed that had been granted to her out of spite- she knew that it was not the time to push the matter. Not when he was allowing her to leave the room. The last thing she needed was to be locked in again.

Wright still had difficulty wrapping her mind around the fact that Negan Smith was the one keeping her locked up, stripping away her freedoms and holding Daryl in a cell.

That was also what prompted her to stop questioning him, the thought of the man he held in his possession. The mere thought of any more harm falling upon the man she loved made Evelyn want to vomit. So, she stayed silent and had followed him out of the room for what he deemed to be the 'grand tour'.

"Impressed yet, Eva?" Negan glanced over at her and teased, light bouncing in his eyes.

She only hummed in response, humoring him with that enough to make it so he hopefully didn't get angry and take it out on either her or Daryl.