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~Dog Teeth: Chapter#1~

Series: The Walking Dead
Rating: Mature: Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.
Pairing: Negan/Lucille (OC)
Copyright: Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)
Author's Note: hi everyone, i hope you enjoy the first chapter to my new fanfiction. all the sudden today i got the sudden urge to write a negan fanfiction even though i have had this idea for quite some time. also i'm aware that there are a lot of fics out there like this that explain the story behind lucille. i am also aware that robert kirkman also has created an official backstory for negan and an official reasoning behind lucille. i will not be completely disregarding the canon story, though i won't be following it too closely especially because (SPOILERS FOR "HERE'S NEGAN" COMIC) i am not making lucille his wife whom died of cancer. i won't be informing you of the very details i will be using for they would spoil a lot of my story's plot! there is also a bit of perspective jumping and time-skipping (though it is not drastic, only near minutes if anything) just in case you're a bit confused as to what the hell's going on sometimes. so otherwise thank you all for reading this note and please enjoy reading.
Please: Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve c:

"You will find what you seek."
-Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!

It was a night like many others for Negan ever since the dead decided it would be fun to rise up and make a meal out of those still possessing a pulse. At least it was like many others where he had dominated, desecrated and destroyed the lives of a group of strangers who had something that he wanted (not like the others where he was pounding one of his wives into oblivion). Cause lord knows when someone else had something that he wanted, he'd take it. He hadn't really grasped the whole "sharing-is-caring" concept from grade school, he never had and knew that he'd never will. Therefore he was always often too keen on snatching, stealing and demanding in order to get what he just so damn desired when he just so damn desired it.

However, tonight was a bit different for him and his Saviors.

The group of people that he had lined up outside of his trailer, shaking and trembling like Chihuahuas with tears streaming down their cheeks, were in such a position for a very unique reason. Or at least a reason that he had yet to come by in his time during this new world. It was a reason that he was quite positive that he would never even come across in all of his days seeing that it was often simply deemed impossible due to his group's immense power. But for the first time in a very long time...he had been proven wrong.

And God knows that Negan does not like being proven wrong. And now was his time to show those fuckers what happened if they did such.

And so he stepped out into the dimly-lit clearing afront of his trailer, a devious smirk placed across his maw and an equally oblique shine glinting off of the blood-stained beauty that was his beloved Lucille. He stood tall and proud as always with her slung over his broad shoulder, his demeanor beholding a very sinister and intimidating gait as he made his way down the stairs and across the clearing. He could vaguely make out the figures of nearly a dozen or so terrified beings that were surrounded entirely by his mob of Saviors. It brought him great pride and joy to know that his plan was executed so expertly by his people, especially because it was being carried out against a group that was able to counter nearly everything else that he had sent their way. But seeing them in the condition that they were now, on their knees with guns to each of their heads, he was positive that this time a retaliation would be impossible.

"Pissing our pants yet?" Negan finally spoke, his trademark smirk set across his face snidely as he made his way into the light. With the new found brightness from the cars that were surrounding his newly-caught hostages, he was able to make out just how disheveled they all truly looked. They all were covered in sweat, dirt, blood and grime and they each looked equally exasperated from their trek through the woods only minutes ago. The baseball bat-behelding man felt a wave of accomplishment wash over him as he reveled in the fact that he was the one who had inevitably led them into those woods during the middle of the night. The situation as a whole was simply too pleasing for him. He couldn't believe that this group who had outdone him on numerous occasions had fallen so easily into such a simple trap. "Boy, do I have a feeling we're getting close."

She ran.

She simply ran as fast as her feet could carry her, ignoring the fact that her throat was burning as if she had swallowed hot coals and her chest felt like a cinder block was atop of it. She knew that she couldn't stop now- she had to make it. She had to get help for the others.

The girl was well aware that they were being played this entire day, but she was unable to turn back from the inevitable end that was taunting them the whole time. She was sure that they were all conscious of it in fact, but they all were also far too concerned with getting Maggie the medical attention that she so desperately needed. They all knew that there was no turning back from the mission that they had embarked on and until they had reached Hilltop they all refused to back down no matter what.

For Maggie, for the baby and for their future. They had to continue.

But now since the rest of the group had been corralled into a corner, lined up like cattle ready to be bled, she knew that it was all resting solely on her now. She had to continue- no matter how scared, exhausted or hopeless she was. She was the lucky one who had managed to scout her way around their attackers and slip away silently before they had managed to snag her as well due to her being far behind the others as a lookout. Some may say that she should have followed them and tried to assist her friends in escaping from their pursuers, but she knew that she would only meet their exact same demise. Therefore she forced herself to ignore that daunting voice in her head that claimed her as a coward- a deserter- and sped off in the opposite direction in which she was sure led back to Alexandria.

She knew how far out she was and how it could possibly take her days to return home, but she knew that somewhere there had to be a vehicle or something that she could use to assist her friends in escaping. Maybe she would even miraculously cross Tara and Heath who were still out on their scavenging expedition in order to acquire much needed supplies for their people. Whatever hope she had for any of the possibilities, all she could do was cling to them mercilessly and pray that they came true.

However, she was not sure if they would even have time to do so.

Because as soon as she rounded her way around a large protruding tree is when she heard the heavy breathing and deep voices of two men behind her.

How had they found her?! Her escape had been nearly unnoticeable!

Glancing over her shoulder with large, mortified eyes, she caught sight of two large dark figures only a few yards behind her. She knew that they had to be men of that strange group that her friends had been telling her about since she'd awoken in Alexandria two or so days ago. She knew very little about them besides for the fact that they were bloodthirsty, ruthless and out to hurt the group of people who she had grown to call her family after being with them for nearly a year. But that also brought her to the topic in which she barely even knew anything about what had been going on for the past month or so as a whole due to being in a coma after falling from one of the guard towers during the invasion of The Wolves. But at this very moment she couldn't care less how very little she knew the people who were holding her friends- no, her family- hostage. All she could possibly care about as of now was saving them and getting them to Hilltop.

They're my family...I have to help them.

Sucking in a deep breath of air, she forced herself to speed up even more than she already had after catching the sight of her two pursuers. It felt physically impossible at the moment as her leg muscles screamed at her in agony and her feet just about buckled beneath her, but she ignored their cries all the more and strained her body to endure it.

Every now and then she would glance back to assess their distance from her, and the past few times she had done so she had found solace in the fact that they had not managed to get much closer than they were when she'd first diverted her attention to them. She took pleasure in knowing that she was fast enough to outrun them, thus ensuring not only her own safety but potentially her group's safety as well. However, when she glanced back for what had to of been the fourth time since the first, she felt her stomach drop.

The two dark figures were no longer behind her.

At that moment she was not entirely sure if that had meant that they had simply given up on pursuing her or if they had diverted themselves onto a different path. Either way she knew that she was not out of the woods yet. Even if they had ceased pursuing her it only meant that their attention and killing intent was now focused on her friends instead. And if they had changed routes now she had no idea where the could possibly b-

Before she could even deliberate her next thought, the air was knocked out of her lungs and she was forcefully pulled to the forest floor below.

God dammit!

When she hit the ground her head slammed against the leaves and soil especially hard, causing her vision to blur painfully and her temples to throb. She could very vaguely make out the strange and echoed voices of two men as a pair of hands began to pull and press at her body as if they were a bit jolted from the force of the fall as well. She took it that he had to of been quite disoriented as well from the harshness of their spill and used this to her advantage, hoping that his friend wouldn't show up too soon and her getaway would once again be flawed.

Letting out a long, heaving breath, the girl forced her eyes to focus and attempted to get her hearing to become clear again whilst she fought to remove the flailing man from atop of her. She forced her hands to what felt like his face and blindly dug her nails ferociously into the fleshy-feeling sockets in which she assumed beheld his eyes. She heard a cringe-worthy gushing noise before she felt a thin, slick layer of skin tearing beneath her fingers and the hot metallic sting of blood rush over her hands. There was a slight pause of eerie silence as if the man couldn't believe what she had done, before a bloodcurdling caterwaul then filled her ears and she felt his grip on her loosen exponentially. Thankfully it was just enough for her to wriggle free of him and begin to make her way back onto her feet. It was beyond a relief she had to admit, though just the feeling and the sounds which she had elicited from the man due to her actions were enough to make her heart twist with a hint of regret.

She had never been all too keen on causing suffering to others still living- even if they were trying to harm her.

Negan stopped mid-eenie-meenie-minie-moe as a deep, nightmarish scream filled the dark sky. At the sound of it everyone seemed to freeze in a mixture of horror and curiosity, their heads turning in the direction in which it reverberated viciously, echoing off of the trees and the cars that littered where they stood before dying off into a pained, weak whimper.

These fuckers.

The large man's eyes narrowed, jaw muscles tightening with a mixture of both anger and annoyance as his grip on Lucille tightened before he opened his mouth to speak again, "You shitfucks better hope that was one of your own men out there crying like a little bitch or else the repercussions are gonna be so much fucking worse." Negan snarled, a hint of amusement lacing his voice as he saw one of his captives fearful eyes grow wider at his words. However what Negan saw on the face of the man he had damned so savagely ever since he had come across this group is what truly got the best reaction out of him.

Rick's mouth seemed to be twitching into a slight smirk, as if his face was trying to fight off his reaction to the pain-filled scream that had filled their ears only moments ago. His ice-blue eyes were twinkling- and not with tears, mind you- in a way that truly irked Negan to the vice of his very being. It took every ounce of control within him to not smash his beloved Lucille straight into the skull of the smug leader at his feet. He had ultimately decided against it, however, until they figured out whom the scream had rightfully belonged to, therefore if it was one of Rick's men he could watch that content grin turn into an expression that mirrored the rest of his group's. And damn, would that be ever so satisfying!

And that exact fucking satisfaction that Negan was waiting on surfaced just as violently and suddenly as Rick's had moments ago.

Another shriek- one just a blood-freezing and heart-stopping as the first- rippled through the night sky and filled all of their ears with yet another sensation. This one, however, was quite a bit different.

It was far more high-pitched than the other had been, leading Negan to believe that it belonged to a female rather than a male- unless its owner was some prepubescent fuck that somehow managed to stay alive this long, though he highly doubted it. But what was even more distinct about the second caterwaul that interrupted his game of executioner- and oh, so much more pleasing to the eyes- was the chillingly haunted emotion that had dominated Rick's once-smirked maw.

Oh yeah, now that's what I like to fucking see!

Strutting so that he was barely and arms-length now from the trembling, blood-covered man who had retaliated against for him so long, Negan let out a lengthy, content sigh before simply grinning down at the once-great leader. "What's the fucking matter, Rick?" Negan cooed, directing Lucille under the stone-faced man's chin so that he could force him to look up into his eyes. "You don't like the sound of girls screaming just as much as I do? I mean, hell, I prefer them to be underneath me while they are, but this'll have to do for now."

It hurt. It hurt more than anything she had ever physically felt. And as soon as she had felt it, the burning, searing pain that wracked her entire body as if it set her veins aflame, she couldn't help but to let out a scream so harsh that it nearly burned her throat. It was as if someone had reached into her leg and set a bonfire upon her left hamstring and consistently threw lighter fluid into it until it was utterly and completely untamable. It was absolute hell.

She fell to the ground, her hands clutching at the knife handle her thigh desperately as she crumpled into the dirt and leaves with a pained expression across her face. Her teeth were biting into her lower lip hard enough to draw an immense amount of blood in which had started to dribble down her chin, leaving behind a thin crimson line upon her pale skin. Her body was instinctively curling into a ball as if to shield her from any other types of harm that were going to come her way and she felt tears beginning to sting the back of her eyes.

I've failed them. How could I let this happen? How could I do this to them?

"Fucking bitch!" The man who had stabbed her- also the man whom she had gauged the eyes of- cursed angrily, falling back into his position on the ground as the sound of distant footsteps neared. Fearfully, the girl knew that it was her second pursuer coming to reap what she had sewn.

"Fuck, Wade!" The second man choked and she heard him fall to his knees beside his partner that was writhing on the ground in absolute agony. She surmised that his eyes must've fallen across his friend's own and seen what she had done and knew that he was going to be even more pissed than before.

The girl peered up from her pained fetal position in time to see the unharmed man, a scrawny guy with stringy shoulder-length blonde hair and a matching mustache and beard, leave his counterpart's side and start at her with a fury blazing in his pale eyes. She could see that he had no weapon in his hands at the moment, so her fear of having yet another blade shoved into her adjacent thigh was fading, however the malicious glint in his gaze was enough to rebirth her fright almost immediately.

She tried to scramble away from him as he closed in on her, though her leg- which was now bleeding profusely- was having none of it. As soon as she tried to shift her body so that she could make an attempt to crawl or stand, it inaudibly shrieked in just as much agony as her own victim- apparently Wade- had only seconds ago when her nails met his corneas. So as the overwhelming ache took control of her body, regrettably forcing her back to the ground, she could only watch in horror as this thin man grew closer and closer to her before he finally stood precisely in front of her and glared down into her wide eyes.

"Negan will make you pay for that." Was all he muttered before reaching down, yanking her up by the shirt and raising his fist with a vicious expression shadowing his features.

However, the split second before his knuckles met her face and knocked her unconscious is the very second that she felt every ounce of blood in her entire body freeze.

Negan…?!

And then it all went black.

Negan grinned as his eyes danced over his and Lucille's immaculate handiwork, a demonic gleam in his eyes as he heard the grief-filled sobs of those whom he had corralled into his little trap earlier. He had promised them a punishment for all that they had done in retaliation to each of his attempts in avenging his own men and that is exactly what he fucking gave them. It caused him an immense amount of pride that he was capable of such actions and power as he had just demonstrated before them- especially since he had not taken only one, but two, of Rick's people after the dirty redneck lashed out and decided he'd like to give Negan a taste of his right fist. And no, no, no! That shit was not gonna fly! Like he had told them and had told anyone else who had ever crossed him: he was a man of his word and he never went back on his word. So, of course, even though he had already fulfilled his duty by bashing in the guy he liked to call "Red"'s head, he took one- maybe two, or three, or eight- swings at the Asian kid who had caused the first disruption earlier that night just to show them that he meant business. And, damn, had it felt good- practically orgasmic- to show Rick and his peers that he was not an all bark and no bite kind of guy.

Finally taking in enough of the unrecognizable and bloody mess- art, however, in his opinion- Negan turned away from the sight and began to pace back to the middle of the clearing so that he could get a good look at all of the disheveled faces before him. As he found the perfect spot so that he could make out whom each sob belonged to, he let out a very loud, long and satisfied sigh just so these shits knew that he had thoroughly enjoyed beating the living hell out of both of their comrades. 'Cause he sure as hell wasn't one to discriminate! He enjoyed making a statement by beating the hell out of any race, he wasn't really a picky guy.

Negan then raised an amused brow and glanced to Rick and was nearly sent into a giggling fit at the look on the man's face. It felt like Christmas fucking morning and he had just opened the biggest gift under the tree when he saw not only the tears mingled with his very own friend's blood dripping down his cheeks, but the absolute look of defeat twinkling in his blue eyes as he stared to the ground in a state of what he assumed to be catatonic shock. It was too good to be true! Santa is real!

"What?" The leather-donned man piped up, his devilish smirk playing upon his lips as he swung Lucille freely about. "Was the joke that bad?"

Negan watched as more sobs continued to wrack throughout the broken group, shaking each of their bodies violently until they became too tired, weak or defeated to continue with anything other than faint whimpers and sniffles. It took a decent amount of time and deafening silence- minus the faint chirping of crickets and birds that began to become all the more audible as the sun slowly inched its way up the sky- before he decided that it was probably time to continue on with his demonstrations. After all, the show must going fucking on.

However, as Negan stepped forward to resume his psychological torture on those who had wronged him, he was interrupted by a sudden, "Holy shit!" from one of his own men.

Usually he would not tolerate any sort of outburst or disruption from anyone- especially one of his own followers- as he had showcased earlier after the guy who looked like he had just stepped off the "Deliverance" set took a swing at him. But as he saw his vast amounts of men and women turn in the direction of what the voice was so shocked about, he felt himself not so keen on punishing them for such a commotion due to the sight before his very eyes.

Two of his lieutenants, Dwight and Wade, were making their way through the crowd looking just as disheveled as the group lined up before him. Wade's eyes were bloodshot and he had numerous lines of crimson streaming down his face as he leaned heavily on the scrawnier man. But it was what was in Dwight's arms that had seared Negan straight to the core. He was even sure that he heard a heart-wrenching cry from the very son of Rick himself at the sight of it, but Negan couldn't care less at the moment. Any other time he would have punished the kid for such insubordination but as of now all he wanted to do was know it was who his heart hoped it would be.

As the two bedraggled men found themselves growing closer and closer Negan felt his heart speed up with every step they took. There was someone- a girl- clutched close to Dwight's boney frame and with every step she was closer to his presence he was able to make out a feature that caused his blood to grow a degree colder with each one he recalled.

The long, pale blonde curls.

97.6 degrees.

Tiny, petite frame.

96.6 degrees.

Soft baby-face with skin whiter than snow.

95.6.

Heavily-lidded, huge chocolate brown eyes with dense dark lashes.

94.6.

Those plump, pouty pale rose-colored lips that he would kill to kiss.

93.6.

Those beautifully thick, furrowed eyebrows that would melt his cold heart with slightest raise.

92.6.

That minuscule star-shaped mole just below her left collarbone.

91.6.

"Lucy?" He choked.

90.6.

It was her.

89.6.

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