TWENTY FOUR

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The next morning, the Sanctuary was quieter than usual

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The next morning, the Sanctuary was quieter than usual.
The hum of generators pulsed under the concrete, and faint voices echoed through the long corridors. For once, no guards shadowed Tessa's steps.

A rarity.
A chance.

She walked carefully, heart ticking like a countdown. That's when she saw him.

Daryl.

He moved fast, head low, slipping through one of the heavy doors that led toward the outer yard. His shirt was filthy, his face bruised and hollowed by exhaustion—but the defiance in his posture was still there. Fierce. Unbroken.

"Daryl!" she hissed, too loudly.

He spun, alert, ready to attack—but when he saw her, something in his expression cracked open. He didn't tell her to stay put. He didn't warn her away.

Instead, he nodded sharply.

"Come on," he muttered, voice ragged.

Her pulse thundered as she followed him.
The air outside hit her—cold, sharp, too open compared to the suffocating halls. They kept to the shadows along the walls, steps silent, breaths quick.

For a heartbeat—just one—
freedom felt close enough to touch.

Then the whistles started.

One shrill note, slicing the air like a blade.
Another.
Then another.

The sound bounced off the metal walls, multiplying, echoing everywhere at once.

Tessa froze.

Saviors poured into the yard from every direction, guns ready, grins curling like they'd been waiting for this exact moment. Within seconds, the two of them stood trapped in a tightening ring of bodies.

The noose snapped shut.

Tessa's stomach plummeted.

Daryl stepped in front of her instinctively, chest rising and falling fast, shoulders squared. He didn't say a word—but his silence was a warning, a promise, a choice.

The crowd parted.

Negan strolled in, Lucille slung casually over his shoulder like a trophy. His grin spread wide—wide enough to tell her this wasn't coincidence.

He'd known.
He'd been watching.
He'd been waiting.

"Well, well, well—are we pissing our pants yet?" he boomed, voice rolling across the yard like thunder.

Neither Tessa nor Daryl answered. They both glared, jaws clenched, eyes sharp.

Negan gave a long, dramatic sigh, shaking his head like a disappointed dad at a school recital.

Then he straightened and barked, "Who are you?!"

The Saviors roared back in perfect unison:

"NEGAN!"

He spread his arms, grin stretching like victory.
"See that? I am everywhere. You both failed. This—" he gestured widely "—was your chance to show me you were finally starting to understand how things work around here."

His eyes slid to Tessa, slowly, deliberately.

"Which is a damn shame," he said, voice lowering. "Because your lives were about to get so much cooler."

He leaned in close enough that she felt his breath on her cheek.

"You listening, sweetheart?"

Tessa didn't answer. Her glare said enough.

Negan's smirk sharpened.
"You just don't get it, do you?"

He flicked two fingers.

Two Saviors slammed into Daryl at once.
Fists cracked against his ribs and jaw.
Daryl grunted, spitting blood into the dirt, but he didn't yell. Didn't beg. Didn't break.

"Stop it!" Tessa shouted, lunging forward.

A hand snatched her arm, yanking it behind her. Pain ripped through her shoulder. She gasped, fighting against their grip.

Negan barked a laugh and crouched in front of her, Lucille balanced across his knees.

"Sweetheart," he drawled, amused and merciless, "you do that again, and you'll be lying face-down next to him."

Finally—finally—he lifted a hand.
The beating halted.
Daryl sagged in the dirt, blood dripping, breath rough.

"Take his ass back to the hole," Negan ordered.

They dragged Daryl away, his boots scraping through gravel, leaving Tessa standing alone in the center of the yard.

Negan turned back to her, expression brightening—almost delighted.

"And as for you..."
He stepped closer, towering over her, shadow swallowing her whole.
"...you just bought yourself a little time-out."

He snapped his fingers.

Two Saviors grabbed her, wrenching her arms behind her. She hissed in pain but couldn't break free.

"Lock her up," Negan called, his voice booming down the yard. "Let's see how long that fire lasts when she's staring at four goddamn walls."

Tessa fought, twisting, clawing at their grip, but it was pointless. They dragged her through the halls as her anger burned hotter than the pain in her shoulder.

Right before the cell door slammed shut, Negan's whistling echoed down the corridor—

slow, taunting, triumphant.

INTO THE SHADOWS. NeganWhere stories live. Discover now