burning bridges /negan.

XVIII.

XVIII.
- to the grave : bea miller -
"breaking down, let the words fall from my mouth"

the room is cold and i can't see much in the darkness. there's something familiar about this.

i swing my legs over the bed. placing my bare feet on the ground.

"shit! fuck!" i curse. blood rushes to my head, my body aches and i feel weak and helpless.

determined to find negan before anything else goes wrong, i stumble from the room and down the corridor in the direction of noise.

as i get closer to the canteen, the noise seems to stop. and then i hear negan.

"this motherfucker." he shouts.

he sounds livid. i climb the metal stairs and crawl onto the balcony, sticking low to the ground so i won't be seen.

i look down over the crowd of saviours that form a circle around negan. and rick.

"rick the prick? thinks he can waltz on in here and order me about like i'm a little bitch." negan's booming voice fills the hall. he is loud, as usual. but the anger in his voice is something i've never heard before.

this rick is in deep shit. i wonder how the tables turned while i was out?

"well. i'm fucking not. and he fucking can't. and he'll fucking pay for the shit he has pulled today!" the audience cheers.

rick's head hangs. he is slouched over on hands and knees. negan's given him a good beating i assume. i wince at the sight of blood and sweat dripping from his curly hair.

i watch in silence as negan beckons for dwight. the canteen's furnace is blazing and roaring with flames. my jaw drops open when i realise what will come next.

dwight pulls a red hot iron from the fire and places the handle into negan's gloved palm. so this is how dwight got his scars.

i shut my eyes and attempt to drown out the crowd's anticipation.

what can you do? what can you do? i scream internally. i don't know what rick has done, but surely it doesn't deserve this kind of punishment.

looking around frantically, my eyes dart to a small lever on the wall. the fire alarm.
it should only be pulled in emergencies; the noise draws walkers to the sanctuary. this feels like an emergency.

i scramble across the floor and pull down on the lever as hard as i can.

a painfully loud wailing begins to sound.

"simon!" negan can barely be heard over the noises. he begins barking orders at his men to secure the gates.

in all the commotion, saviours fleeing the hall gripping their ears in pain, my eyes lock with his.

his face scrunches with rage, i can see it from up here. he yanks rick by the collar of his shirt. he makes the man crawl, hands and knees up the stairway, to where i am.

"really doll? your timing is un fucking believable." the man screams at me. i cant help but cower slightly.

he crouches to my height.

"you okay?" he mouths at me. placing a hand on my shoulder.

"no!" i shout back in his face, loud as possible.

the noise is still ringing. almost sounding louder than before. i plead for him to let rick go. "please please please" i beg.

negan kicks rick to the floor. the man lets out a loud groan and winces in pain as he hits the metal.

then negan strides to the wall and flicks the lever back. the sound stops.

murmuring and the shuffling of boots can be heard echoing through the hall. the saviours are getting impatient.

"fine." he caves.

he grabs my arm and hauls me up to stand. i wince in pain and he eases up on his grip.

"get on with it!" a lone voice calls out from a crowd below.

"who the fuck said that?" negan is furious, i can tell. i've embarrassed him already; and now this.

simon shoves a small man forwards, his knees keel from under him and he falls to the floor.

"shit i uh i didn't mean it negan i'm sorry" the man begins to grovel.

i look up to see a flash of anger light up in negan's eyes. in a swift wave of his hand, the order is issued.

a sick smile spreads across simon's face as he beckons at dwight to pass the iron.

then come the screams. they make my blood run cold. never ending and nightmare inducing.

as i press hard on my ears to stop the sound, i think. i think i will find the stench of melting flesh hard to forget.