Terminus ( Daryl Dixon x Reader )

Part title

A/N: Yes I know those photos are Sam Winchester but the reader isn't a Winchester, the readers brother is called Sam and I pictured him while I wrote this.
Also, I was in a really sad mood when I wrote this, like I was very emotional that day and this was how I dealt with those emotions by writing a sad one-shot. Sorry not sorry.

Your hands were tied behind your back, your mouth gaged with some kind of cloth or rag. You were forced onto your knees in front of a large metal tub which had blood stains painted through it. You had a really bad feeling about this and you weren't afraid to admit that you were scared. Hell, your older brother Sam seemed scared despite their best efforts to hide it. He was the bravest man you know, nothing could scare him, but right now everyone was.

You were between Sam, and Glenn, but you knew Daryl, Rick and Bob were further down the tub on your right. The men from Terminus were all wearing blood-covered aprons as you glanced around the large warehouse. Your stomach turned when you spotted a man across the room cutting a dead body's leg on top of a metal bench. What the hell is this place? What kind of sick people do that?

You turned your attention back to the Terminus men behind you guys when you noticed one of them holding a metal bat as they walked towards the end of the tub.

Before you could even try figure what they were planning the Terminus man swung the bat, slamming it into the back of the guys head who was at the end of the tub, instantly knocking him out cold. What the hell were they doing? You thought to yourself as the other Terminus man grabbed the unconscious guys head before slicing his throat and dropping his body back against the tub. His blood now flowing into the metal tub.

You stared at the man's body in shock, your body beginning to shake in fear. These guys are fucking psychos, you had to get out of here.

Without hesitation you quickly pulled down the large wooden stake you'd broken off from inside the train cart where you guys were being held earlier. You had hidden it up the sleeve of your flannel shirt, but you just hoped it was strong enough to cut through the zip ties around your wrist.

"Hey guys, what were your shot counts?" Gareth's voice suddenly questioned as you looked across the warehouse to find him walking through the door.

"38." One of the men replied before slamming the bat against the next man as you forced yourself to look away. You glanced down the row spotting Daryl who was staring at you, his expression masked, but you knew him. You knew Daryl well enough to know he was panicking and you were too.

"Hey, your shot count?" Gareth questioned turning your attention back to the men.

"Crap man, I'm sorry. This is my first round up." The man with the knife replied, his voice slightly nervous as he stared over at the leader.

"After you're done here go back to your point and count the shells." Gareth replied as he wrote something down in whatever book he was holding as he began to walk away. No he couldn't leave yet, if he did the others would continue killing you guys.

Without a second thought you tried shouting at him through the gag in your mouth, trying anything to get his attention and distract him. Rick, Daryl and Sam would have a plan, they always came up with a plan, you just had to distract the man for as long as possible.

"What's that honey? I can't hear you." Gareth responded, closing his book and putting it on the bench as he walked over to you. He crouched down on the other side of the tub opposite you as he pulled the gag out of your mouth.

"You don't have to do this. Please. You can take all our stuff and weapons, just let us go." You pleated. You hated begging for your life like this, you knew it sounded pathetic, but it was the only option you had left as you continued to try cut through the zip ties slowly, not wanting them to notice.