*Warnings for graphic, disturbing violence*
"Tell me. Tell me everything."
The man's name was Jason. Jason Vorhees, Negan suspected, though he knew it wasn't true. The older man had a studier build, towering over Negan with ease. He wore a clear apron, with a pouch in the front. The apron was streaked with residue - bone fragments, clinging flesh with the hairs acting as adhesive. He'd removed his surgical, letting it hang from his neck. Negan could see his teeth as he grinned, flecked with grime. Dirty. Everything about his kidnapper was dirty, right down to his words.
Disgusting.
"You shouldn't have done the things you did, Negan," Jason rubbed his hands together. He walked around the chair like a tiger stalking its prey. Negan had been stripped of his clothes, chained to the heavy wooden chair.
"I made a fucking mistake, alright. I didn't mean shit by it - not at all."
"I know. But she was my kid. You knew that. You knew her - you coached her, for God's sake!"
"You knew him?"
'Yeah. He was a, uh, teacher. Chemistry. Same school."
"Your daughter was fucking sick, Jason. She wasn't getting any fucking better and you knew that!"
Jason toyed with the instruments in his apron. A hook, a pair of pliers, a butchers knife, and a few other smaller devices.
"I ain't doing this out of revenge. Well, sort of. My daughter was my world - but I suppose you're right. She wasn't getting any better. I could just kill you. That would be revenge, you know. But I don't like that."
"He got off on fucking torturing people."
"What!?"
White - hot pain erupted across the fingers on Negan's left hand. He'd barely seen Jason slip behind him. He'd been too distracted by the deranged man's words.
The pliers gripped hold and tore away tendons and flesh, crushing bone. The crunch was unbelievable loud as Negan's others fingers seized up, shocked.
He yelled. It was a loud, pained noise. His chest heaved and he spewed curses, hissing and snapping as Jason pulled away, clicking his pliers together.
"I never liked your language. Sure, a few curse hear and there are nice, but you...you're obscene."
"Fuck you."
"You don't want to know what he fucking did next, Tessa. you don't. You really fucking don't."
"I can handle it."
Negan spat. The glob hit Jason in the eye. The older man growled and Negan's head snapped to the side. He immediately tasted blood, and his head began to throb.
"Have you ever seen the inside of yourself?" Jason ducked down, eye level with Negan. He pulled a dirty, bent scalpel from his pouch. He held it upright, tilting his head and shifting over towards Negan's ribs. "Let see those guts of yours. You have em' - certainly enough to mess with someone like me."
"Please, no."
"I've always fucking hated going to the doctor. Lucille was the one who always made me fucking go to that hellhole, before all this shit went down."
Jason jabbed the scalpel right in - just beneath his right ribcage, below his underarm. The pain was sharp, pressing. It stung, his body reacting to the unwelcome intrusion by trying to jerk away.
Of course, he couldn't move. His hands were tied, his feet chained to the chair. His bare chest heaved and he sucked in air, desperately trying to stifle his groans of agony. It didn't - wouldn't - work. His body instinctively began to spasm, gasps and cries spilling past his parted lips. He felt Jason's fingers prodding him, tugging at the skin.
"Look down."
"No - no. Please, no."
Negan screamed. Jason grabbed the back of his neck, forcing his head down at an uncomfortable angle. The sound tore at the back of his throat and faltered when Jason lightly pressed his fingers into the exposed muscle. Negan saw every tendon, bright pink and pulsing lightly with each breath. Jason's fingers were slick with blood as he pinched at the warm, slippery flesh.
Negan sputtered. Vomit pooled within him, though he didn't have much to cough up. Jason hadn't fed him. He groaned, and Jason gripped a fistful of his hair and tugged.
He was choking.
"I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die."
"You didn't. You have the scar to prove it."
"Oh, cmon!" Jason shouted. His grip tightened as Negan heaved, liquid seeping from between his lips. Jason finally seemed to take notice that his hostage was actually suffocating and released him - Negan lurched forward, emptying his stomach. The skin around his ribcage had been peeled back, like a flap, and the wound oozed blood with each movement of his torso.
"When the fuck are you going to kill me?"
"Not now. Not for a long time."
"How did you escape?"
"I broke my wrists. They were slippery because after that, he'd put a power drill through them. He'd stitched up my side, so I wouldn't fucking bleed to death. Told me I couldn't die yet. I got out of the restraints and beat him to death with a brick."
Tessa kissed him. He did not flinch away from the contact.
Softly, she said, "I love you."
"I know."
"I'm sorry that happened to you."
"Doesn't fucking matter. It's over now. It's all over."
"You and I both know that stuff never ends. It stays in your head. You dream about it night after night-"
"Tessa," Negan said softly. He touched her bare left, sitting up in the bed. His wife held him, resting her head against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around him from behind. Her mouth was soft against his skin, stopping only when he spoke. "There's so much shit in my head already. It's not going to get any better. I can't feel shit anymore - I know that I love you. I don't fucking doubt that in the least. But the shit that I did? I did it all to protect my people - protect you. I had to. I couldn't let what happened to me happen to you."
Negan screamed and hit him with a brick. His knee pressed into Jason's chest and he brought the brick down, the concrete tainted with his blood and Jason's blood. Jason's face, everything, it changed. The expression went from surprised to grim to horrified to pained and afraid in a matter of seconds, his head caving in like a pie crust, nose breaking, eyes popping out and splashing across the slick floor-
"DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!"
He kept hitting and hitting and hitting and hitting and -
