Hey there everyone! So, this is my first TWD fan fiction. I'm quite nervous to post this and to see the reception I'm going to get, but I thought why not. I am a HUGE fan of the show and have been an avid watcher ever since it first aired. (Comics aren't really my thing, I prefer the show, but that's just my own opinion!) Over the past couple of weeks, I've done a lot of reading of fan fictions from this fandom and really fell in love with stories people have created, and I thought I would take a stab at it. I've written fan fiction before, but I'm really determined to:
Make this fan fiction the best I possibly can, and
Actually complete it!
I am really passionate about these characters, and this story and I hope you guys enjoy this. Don't forget to favorite, and follow, and feel free to leave a review so I can hear your feedback!
PS: Also just a note. I apologize ahead of time for any grammatical errors I may have. I do my best to correct them, but I know there are going to be ones I miss. Don't really think it's necessary for me to get a beta due to the fact that I am writing this solely for fun and I don't think any small punctuation errors are going to lessen anyone's enjoyment of the work.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Walking Dead in any way, shape, or form. The characters, setting, the main plot of the show is NOT mine and belongs and/is credited to Robert Kirkman and creators at AMC.
Chapter 1
Meet Lucille
On any other night, the forest would be a pitch black, so dark that you could barely see two steps ahead of you. On a normal night, the only light that would shine in the tree infested land would be coming from the barely present, soft glow, of the full moon up above. It'd be quiet too. The only sounds coming from the occasional gusts of wind rustling leaves, small footsteps of woodland creatures still clinging onto survival, and the unmistakable, and at this point numb, sound of the undead as they stumbled through the overgrowth.
But tonight was different. Tonight was not a normal night. It was much—much—different.
Stevie would normally wince at the pain of something sharp stabbing into her knee as she kneeled on the forest floor. But tonight she was too full of adrenaline and fear to even notice the small ache of the soft flesh as blood rushed to the open wound. The only notable sensation she felt was the cool, steel barrel of a gun pressed up against the back of her skull.
The formerly darkened forest was now illuminated by a single, incredibly bright, headlight, coming from an RV parked in front of her. She turned her head slowly, to look at the rest of the group, her closest friends, the people that she had come to trust more than anything in this life after the 'end of the world.' They were in the same position as she; and by the looks of their faces, they were feeling the same as well.
She knew they were in deep shit. They all knew. As soon as they all realized they were surrounded by the living, they knew they'd be lucky if they made it through the night alive, let alone unscathed. Back when the world went to fucking shit, the last thing Stevie thought was that she'd be more fearful of those with warm blood running through their veins than the cold, stiff, lifeless beings that had taken over the life she once knew.
But if there was one thing Stevie knew is that she learned how to fight the dead, but she had never stopped fearing the living.
Flashing back to reality, seconds ago, they had pulled Daryl, Michone, and Glen out of the back of one of their trucks. Daryl's face and neck were covered in drying blood. His eyes were swollen, even more so than they normally were. It had looked like he was in a fair amount of pain although he would never admit it. He had obviously taken a rather painful beating by whichever part of this group had taken them captive. Michone looked furious as her hands were tied behind her back tightly, and Glen was the same. The men handling them forced them down to their knees among the rest of them.
"All right! We got a full boat," A tall, slender, half-bald man with a mustache shouted. "Let's meet the man." He added as he strolled over to the door of the RV giving four simple knocks.
Stevie began to shiver. Not just from the incredibly brisk night that had taken over the Virginia forest, but due to fear. In any other situation, they would all be looking for a way out. Formulating a plan to ensure survival. But the realization had occurred that there was no way to get out of this. She had always thought she was ready to die but was she?
It seemed like hours had passed, but in a reality, it had only been about thirty seconds. The door to the RV swung open, and a dark figure shook the RV as he stepped down from the vehicle.
"Pissing our pants yet?" A deep, raspy voice had calmly said from the shadows. "Boy, do I have a feeling we're getting close." He continued, finally becoming clear to the group.
The man was tall; dressed in jeans, a black leather jacket, fit with a red scarf tucked neatly around his neck. His jet black hair was slicked back flat against his head and he had a salt and pepper beard. He looked relatively normal, Stevie could say handsome even, aside from the baseball bat that he had swung over his shoulder. The Louisville Slugger, which maybe had assisted in helping a ten-year-old boy hit his first home run before, was now covered in barbed wire.
He stepped further away from the RV, and closer to the group; surveying who was on his knees in front of him.
"Yep. It's gonna be pee pee pants city here real soon."
The mood of the clearing changed in mere seconds with his presence. The once brave men who had no problem rough handling her to the ground now had their own heads down; almost scared to look at the man in front of them all in the eye.
The man had continued to stare at them all; Stevie's eyes shifted, too scared to accidentally make eye contact with the man standing above her.
More seconds passed before he spoke again.
"Which one of you pricks is the leader?" The man asked.
Stevie looked to her left now to lock eyes with Rick. He was sweating profusely; the worry she had seen in his eyes was enough to make Stevie's stomach bottom out with fear.
He looked hopeless. The pure disbelief on his face was a look Stevie had never seen before in the year she had known him; and although she knew before, this just solidified the fact that there was no way out.
"It's this one." The mustached man said, gesturing toward the long-haired man on his knees. She could sense the change in Rick's breathing, and for the first time since they had met; Stevie feared for Rick's life.
The man clad in his heavy leather jacket took his time walking over to stand directly above Rick. He shifted the barbed wire covered baseball bat to his other shoulder, an uneasy grin smoothed across his face.
"You're Rick, right?" He asked. The same shit-eating grin was ever present, and it only grew bigger as he sensed the fear coming from the man kneeling below him. "I'm Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men."
The clearing was silent. The only sound coming from the crickets hidden in the brush and foliage and the heavy breathing of Stevie and her companions.
"Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people—you killed more of my people!" The man who identified himself as Negan exclaimed.
Silence once again took over the forest. Time seemed to be ticking slowly. Every pause lasting what seemed like minutes.
"Not cool. Not fucking cool. You have no idea how not fucking cool that shit is." His grin slowly faded away, his brows furrowing and his facial expression sinking into something much more sinister. But as soon as it arrived, it was gone, and the same grin plastered itself back onto his mouth.
"But I think you're gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna fucking regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes, you are." Negan continued, the amusement present in his raspy voice.
"You see, Rick. Whatever you do, no matter what, you don't mess with the new world order, and the new world order is this, and it's really very simple." Negan shouted, the baseball bat swinging from his left shoulder to mere inches in front of Rick's face. "So, even if you're fucking stupid, which you very well may be… you can understand it."
"You ready? Here goes. Pay attention." Negan said, whipping the bat back up over his shoulder in one swift move.
"Give me your shit. Or I will kill you."
The never-ending pit in Stevie's stomach grew even deeper as these words rolled seamlessly off of Negan's tongue.
"Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me—that's your job." His tongue darted out across his lips, to wet them, before continuing. "Now, I know that is a fucking mighty big, nasty pill to swallow."
And with a sudden boom, the volume of Negan's voice increased by a hundred. "But SWALLOW IT, you most CERTAINLY motherfucking will."
Shifting his attention back to Rick, Negan's tone grew to a normal volume once more. He kneeled down in front of him, coming face to face with the leader of Alexandria.
"You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even fucking close. In fact, you are pegged, more pegged if you don't fucking do what I want. And what I want, is half your shit. And if that's too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it'll even out sooner or later."
Negan stepped back, the sound of the gravel crunching under his black boots was one of the only sounds echoing in Stevie's ears.
"This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be."
"So if someone fucking knocks on your door, you fucking let us in. We own that fucking door. You try to fucking stop us? We will knock that motherfucker down. You understand?"
The group in front of him stayed silent, petrified from exhausting, pain, anxiousness, and fear.
Seconds passed, minutes, maybe hours—Stevie couldn't tell anymore.
"What, no answer?" Negan questioned, putting his hand around his ear, leaning in as if he was expecting a response. He shifted back; away from the group at hand.
"You don't really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, now did you?" The same sadistic grin appearing on his features.
"I don't want to kill you, people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can't fucking do that if you're fucking DEAD now, can you? I'm not growing a fucking garden. But you killed my people, a whole damn fucking shit ton of them—more than I'm comfortable with—and for that, for that, you're gonna pay… so, now, I'm gonna beat the fucking fuck fuckity FUCK outta one of you." He finished, humor laced in his tone.
Stevie's eyes stayed locked on his figure as he approached Rick once more, swinging the baseball bat and stopping short before the barbed wire made contact with Rick's features; close to making deep cuts in his skin.
"This—This is Lucille. And she is awesome." Negan stated with a smile. He caressed the end of the baseball bat with his fingers; stroking the wood gently. "All this," Negan shouted, gesturing towards the clearing, "All this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor."
He backed away once more, the baseball bat shifting up mere centimeters from Rick's skin as Negan threw 'Lucille' back over his shoulder. His leather-glove covered hand reached up to stroke his salt and pepper beard, as he looked to be in thought.
"Ugh, I gotta shave this shit." He murmured casually as if he were standing in front of his bathroom mirror right now, instead of speaking about killing one of the humans in front of him.
His was moving once more, this time coming to stand above Carl.
Negan stared down at the child, surveying the bandage around Carl's face, the hat that sat on his head which was given to him by Rick many years before, and his straight expression. Soon Negan's attention became focused on the holster secured around his waist.
"You got one of our guns. Whoa—yeah—you got a lot of our guns." Negan added as he knelt down, coming face to face with the tall man.
Carl stared into Negan's eyes for a moment before looking down, staring at the dirt floor. The once brave child of Rick's now was now not so brave. None of them were any more, and Negan relished in the fear he knew he caused.
"Shit kid, lighten up. At least cry a little." Negan added with a chuckle, as he stood up, becoming tall and bigger than them all once again.
"JESUS!" Negan shouted, hilarity present in his tone. "Don't you look shitty!" He added gesturing towards Maggie, coming to stand directly in front of her. She was shivering and sweating intensely. Her skin was a pale yellow, and her eyes were red and bloodshot. She was sick—so sick—and if she didn't get to a doctor soon, she would be dead without even as much as a scrape from Lucille.
At this comment from Negan, a "NO!" was shouted as Glen jumped up, becoming level with the threatening man before him. This only lasted for a moment before he was pulled back by a group of men, one of them being the man with the mustache, who was now standing off to the sidelines.
"DON'T!" Glen shouted, his sweaty face now also soaked with salty tears at the idea of his wife and unborn child meeting Lucille.
Negan chuckled at the sadness emitting from Glen; his leather glove coming up again to stroke his face. His smile soon disappeared though, and his facial features were beginning to match his dark words.
"All right, listen. Don't any of you do that again. I will SHUT THAT FUCKING SHIT DOWN—no exceptions. First one's free. It's an emotional moment. I get it." Negan continued, the creepy amused smile showing his teeth as he stared into Glen's eyes.
Glen was pulled back in line, forced back down to his knees. Silence filled the air once again.
"I gotta pick somebody. Everybody's at the table waiting for me to order."
Silence. Stevie was a mixture of emotions. Fear, anger, worry. It was against everything in Stevie's power to not get up and beat the fuck out of him with his own baseball bat. But she knew she couldn't do that. She knew she'd be dead, shot or even beaten to a bloody pulp before she even made any real damage.
The cut on her knee was now forgotten, although she knew the sticky red liquid was present on her skin and her pants. The anxiousness of the situation ridding her of any physical sensations.
She was jarred from her thoughts and was brought back to reality when she heard Negan's voice echo throughout the air once more.
"I simply can not decide." He added, but within a second, a lightbulb appeared over his head. "Wait. I got an idea."
"Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Mo," He started, taking his baseball bat and lifting it to point at each member of the group on their knees before him to the sound of the rhyme.
Oh god.
"Catch, a tiger," The baseball bat passed over Stevie, as she saw the tip of the bat and the worn wood up close and personal. "…by, his toe. If, he hollers, let, him go,"
Stevie's ragged breath grew heavier and heavier; the fear was bubbling in her stomach at his words, but so was the anger. With each word, thoughts circled in her mind.
She was ready to do this. She had made up her mind.
"My, mother, told me, to pick, the very best one, and you—are—"
"STOP!" Someone suddenly shouted; Stevie was shocked at her own words and when she actually felt the scream she had oh-so been considering leave her throat. But she was sure of this. She needed to do this.
Negan stopped, looking up from who his bat hat chosen to be the victim to stare into Stevie's hazel green orbs.
"Kill me instead." She added; staring up at Negan's eyes, which from this distance looked as black as she was sure his heart must be.
"Oh, darling—you shouldn't have said that." He said with a grin.
And far from the first time, Stevie prepared herself for the worst.
—
Just some end notes! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I know it's a bit of some review, but as many stories, this is just set-up for what's going to occur. Next chapter new content will be added, and as the story goes on you will learn more and more about Stevie and what she's all about.
Like I said earlier, feel free to favorite, follow, and leave a review!