Rough draft aka first run through. There was no editing process, no planning, I just went on an idea and didn't' stop until the desire left me. If people like, I will continue, edit and make it better. How do I know people like it? Review, follow, fav, PMs…. If you don't like it, let me know. Harsh criticism is the best criticism. This fic, if continued, will address all the aspects of an apocalypse that I believe would occur: murder, rape, theft, racism/racial issues, insanity, dismemberment, animalistic behavior and provocative sexual situations. I guess my thing would be taking the WD father than basic cable allows. I chose Shane Walsh as my main character, because he represented the dark side of WD and also reality. Not everyone can hold it together; some people break and become something entirely different. I could have seen them doing a lot with his character, if they hadn't taken him too far with the Lori fiasco. I also bring forth a character that has a rep. of their own, but has not been introduced to TV WD yet and that is Negan. There will be no spoilers about Negan, I'm just taking his general idea, the fact that he's a bad man, and using it as the back drop to my story, because he like Shane obviously transformed into something that would make the devil sweat….
In the cold light of day, if I really thought about it, I'd let him fuck me. Just once...slammed against the hot dry pavement. Ass in the air, legs spread...forceful...no words. Just the sound of heaving breathing and clothes being yanked apart. All that coupled with walkers from every direction, limping and dragging, dying to bite into that hot exposed flesh. He wouldn't care. Too focused on the task; the need so great that the desire to survive is momentarily suspended by the sound of flesh against flesh. He looked like that type of man. One that took what he wanted. One so easily lost in this world you'd think he was born in it. That's how Negan found him; seething in the hot sun, eye glaring at nothing in particular, his body focused enough that his eyes can wander and mind can daydream of other things. "Forty of em'' Negan said. "All at once that son of a bitch just wasted them with nothing but a knife. No fear in his eyes, no rush and no expectations. That's how I like em'. Just go, like a train that only rides one way; there ain't no looking back. He ain't tire neither. No he kept going and even when they stopped coming he didn't rest. That man's a switch that only turns on."
"We ain't got much to pick from. He seem sane enough." Negan shrugs nonchalantly. He's never been one to look to deep when anyone other than himself and his interest are concerned. Despite him claiming there is always a method to his madness. Some bright, inspirational and well intentioned light bulb placed somewhere between forehead, where his eyes would cross as if he could actually see it, but that was ludicrous. Although there is something making Negan tick, something that controls his every action, something not so unlike a light bulb, but not quite as innocent. I hate to dwell on it. Those things don't concern me. It doesn't matter what I think, just so long as I do.
"He's kind of old. Not my type. I prefer to stick to my own kind, you get my drift." If your setting me up to be a submissive little whole, at least let me pick my poison." It wasn't flat out disobedience, but if I'm going to play, I have to play my way. It's a rule Negan and I have laid out; the only rule. "Oh tink-tink, no one gets you better than I do, but we running short on bodies, dead and alive; just can't afford to heed every request." His voice sounds deep, smooth and slow kind of reminds me of molasses, if molasses, dripping slowly from a warm spoon could talk, it'd be dark and smooth like Negan. "There's Trent, he ain't bad, a good soldier and scavenger. A man who earns his keep. There's life, his heart beats with love, hate and desire. Not like the man you suggest. He's burnt out. Nothing else remains." I counter Negan and play by my rule for as long as I can. His mind has already been made, but I keep going just to be stubborn. "I know why you arranging him with me...let's see...that saying how's it go again? The devil never takes a day off…. whatever the words it'll do, because that's you. Always working, always scheming and always thinking how to make a situation unspeakably worse." I can see it. Right when I compare him to that lord of the light there's a twinkle in his eye. It fizzled out as soon as it came, but there was the sign. I know I reached my limit, no more snarky comments. I can't afford to push him too far, no matter how tempting.
"He doesn't know. I'd thought I tell you first. Start the New Year with you as tribute. He'll be sure to stick around, if just for a lil while longer, if I dangle warm food, shelter and a piece of ass in his face. He wouldn't turn away."
"I'd agree. No man half starved, sleep deprived and balls the size of coconuts would turn away from this lavish oasis filled with unlimited food and whores. Not even a man, a fraction away from becoming a walker would refuse. Alright King, serve me up on a bed of delectable fruits, I'll let him eat me."
"That's a good girl. I like that. Oh tink-tink, just to think you were a wild little monkey before I found you. Now,... shit now...I finally got you to wear that collar. Makes my balls tighten just thinking about how well you jive."
A small smirk is enough to let him know he got me. I'd jive every second of the day to remain alive that's no question, and the shitty part about it is that Negan knows.
"Hey...but before I jump out the window, what's his name?"
"Shane Walsh."