*WARNING*
A/N: The following chapter contains graphic material that may trigger emotions and memories of those who are victims of sexual abuse. Please note that I don't wish to offend anyone and if you don't think you can read this chapter, I understand. Please skip to the next chapter if you don't wish to read this one, but I will add an A/N above the next chapter and give a brief description on what you missed (censored version) so you won't get lost.
The man kept my gun aimed at my head as he stood a few feet away. The man was tall, skinny, and had short, brown hair with a matching mustache. His clothes were dirty and worn out. Holes ran along the bottom of his shirt and mud caked onto his shoes and the bottom of his pant legs. He said claimed, but what did that mean? Did he claim me? I wasn't sure, but even if this guy didn't have a gun pointed at me, I'd feel completely uneasy around him. Something about him just didn't feel right.
"Stand up." The man ordered.
"My people." I muttered. "Where are my people?" The man tightened his grip on my gun.
"Stand. Up." I let out a sigh and slowly climbed out of bed, keeping my hands above my head "Good, now, put your hands on your head and turn around." I glared at him, but did as he told me. "Do anythin' stupid, and I'll fuckin' blow your goddamn brains out. Hear me?" I gently nodded as the man began to pat me down. Once he deemed me clear of any threat, he grabbed me by my hair and dragged me down the hall into the living room.
"Well now, what do we have here?" A tall, clean shaved, muscular, blond haired man asked.
"Found 'er sleepin' in the back." The man who had a hold of me answered. I looked around the living room and sighed as the Abraham, Eugene, Glenn, Rosita, and Tara came into view. They were on their knees, hands tied behind their back, and completely disarmed.
"Great job, keepin' guard." I scoffed.
"Don't blame them, darlin'." The blond man said. "It ain't their fault, only yours."
"How the fuck is this my fault?" I snarled.
"You failed to find us when ya searched the house." The man quietly chuckled. "That's right, we've been here the whole time, waitin' for when y'all fell asleep. If ya would've checked behind the bookshelf, ya would've found the doorway to the basement." Abraham glared at me.
"Ya didn't check the basement?" Abraham growled.
"How was I supposed to know there was a fuckin' basement?" I hissed.
"THAT'S THE POINT OF CLEARIN' A HOUSE! TO CHECK FOR PEOPLE AND MAKE SURE IT'S SAFE!"
"WELL EXCUSE ME FOR NOT CHECKIN' BEHIND THE DUSTY ASS BOOKSHELF THAT NO ONE WOULD EVER THINK TO CHECK BEHIND!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The blond man smiled. "Everyone just calm down. We don't wanna attract any lamebrains now, do we?" The brown haired man tossed me down onto my knees. "Oh, how rude, we didn't introduce ourselves, did we?" The blond man chuckled. "I'm Robert." Robert pointed to the man who brought me to the living room. "That there's Thomas, but I assume you've already met." Robert smiled. "And those three bozos are John, Jacob,-"
"Jingleheimer Schmidt?" POW! Thomas slammed his fist into the side of my face.
"I like 'er." Robert chuckled. "She's funny." Robert smiled and got down on one knee, grabbing me by my jaw. "Don't ya know it's smart to not back talk someone with a gun? I mean, it's common sense. I could shoot all of y'all right now if I wanted to." I nervously gulped and Robert stood back up. "Anyways, we're lookin' for someone. Another man from the rest of our group got a good look at 'em, so I know it's none of y'all, but if ya answer my questions and I'm satisfied with 'em, we'll let ya go. Is that clear?" I didn't respond.
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Surviving Terminus (BOOK TWO IN THE SURVIVING THE WALKING DEAD SERIES)
Fanfiction*FOLLOWS ALONG WITH THE SHOW* Michaela and Tara have been on their own since the battle for the prison. Not a single sign of the rest of the group has been seen, leaving them to survive the harsh winter alone, wondering if they'd ever see the rest o...
