A Will for Survival
Chapter One

Warning(s): Gore, horror, violence, adult content, adult language, nudity, sexual situations, non-con, angst. This one won't be as kind as my previous stories, Ladies and Germs. It's kind of dark. Not for the faint of heart. But, if you don't like it, just don't read it. Please don't report it.

Disclaimer: Please, as if I own The Walking Dead. Norman Reedus would've been mine years ago if I did.

It never gets better. Everyone thinks it does. But it doesn't. It's just easier to tolerate, easier to ignore. Easier to handle. To pretend like it's an every day thing. Because that's what it was presently. It was something that happened to her every day, by the same person she hated with every fiber of her being. Being violated because she was defenseless, shackled, and beautiful. There was nothing she could do about it, no matter how much she wanted to. If she was a more desperate woman, she would have cut off her leg long ago to try and make an escape, freeing herself of the shackle restraining her from leaving His room. Or carved her face up, disfiguring her beauty so He no longer found her desirable. But it was futile. If she were to make it, she'd be hunted down, or taken over by the undead creatures that roamed the Earth. She knew it, He knew it. There was no escaping Terminus alive.

It was the sound of an explosion that woke her. Cat-like eyes, the color of warm butterscotch, snapped open in shock, the pale body shooting up into a sitting position. She winced as pain seared down her spine, white teeth sinking into a full bottom lip the color of pink blossoms, in order not to cry out. Bright red hair, the color of freshly spilled blood, fell in loose, big ringlets down her body and trailing down her small waist. Slender hands, unusually pale, grabbed the quilt covering her nude body and threw it off in annoyance. She was even more stunning when bare.

She was of normal height for a woman in her mid-twenties, with a curved, but tight body. Her pale belly was flat and smooth, her shoulders narrow. Her hips flared out to legs that went on for miles, a colorful peacock tattoo adorning her right hip. A poem was written in small font on her other side, just underneath her breasts. Bruises the shape of fingerprints marred the porcelain skin, especially along her hips and inner thighs. She winced once more as pain lanced across her lower back, a twinge of stinging pain between her legs. She placed a hand on her hip, dark bruises showing on her wrists in stark relief in the sunlight streaming from the nearby window.

The sounds of rapid gunfire motivated her to move faster, sliding out of bed with only a slight stumble, thanks to the heavy cuff around her ankle. Attached to a chain that allowed her free movement around the sparse bedroom and the bathroom connected, it was thick and unyielding. Scowling down at it, she grabbed a loose grey robe and wrapped it around her, walking towards the window. She jerked the chain in spite, pushing her thick hair over her shoulder as she squinted against the bright sun; only for her eyes to widen dramatically in shock.

Fire, and smoke, thick and black as night trailing up in the sky. The undead creatures, the Walkers, were stumbling and staggering their way past the fallen fence. Some were still on fire from the explosion, some were blown apart and still dragging their way inside. As she stared, she saw the source of the explosion came from the huge gas tank.

How could it just explode like that? There's no way, unless… She was cut off from her thoughts by her door bursting open, slamming against the wall with an abrupt BANG. Whirling around in surprise, her heart racing in fear, she relaxed minutely when hazel eyes met her butterscotch ones. Her body was still tense, wary, as she took in the stiff form of her tormentor. His dark hair was disheveled, eyes wide and furious, but she could see a glimmer of worry in the lines of his mouth, which was tight and in a thin line. Her eyes trailed down, spotting a large gun in his hand and tensing even further. Was this it? Was he finally going to kill her, now that he was tired of her? Would he eat her as well, like he did all the others? Heart pounding further, she forced herself to remain calm, letting her gaze trail back to his handsome face.

"Gareth? What-"She cleared her throat as her voice shook slightly "What's happening?" Her soft voice, made for seduction, almost echoed in the quiet room. Instead of answering her right away, Gareth threw a pile of clothes at her, and then tossed a pair of boots at her feet. He stalked over to her, ignoring the flinch at his nearness, and unlocked the shackle around her dainty ankle. She blinked in surprise, full mouth parting wordlessly. In the background, she could hear screams and gunshots, along with the pounding of footsteps in the building.

"Get dressed. Now."He ordered, his voice full of authority, and she knew better than to question him. Nodding wordlessly, she let her robe drop from her slender shoulders while he stood at the open doorway, peering out cautiously every now and then. The jeans were of skinny fit, with a hole in the knee and slightly faded. She buttoned them up quickly, and then grabbed the zip up hoodie, frowning only a little when she saw that there was no other shirt for her to wear. The hoodie was a navy blue, and fit loosely as she zipped it up all the way. When Gareth began to shift in agitation, she shoved on the dark brown, buckled boots and stood straight to let him know she was ready. He nodded, glancing out the door one more time to check if the halls were clear.

"Let's go." He commanded, reaching out and grabbing her arm. She went obediently, knowing better than to argue, and followed him down the hall. They bumped into other people, who barely spared them a passing glance in their need to flee. She stumbled as Gareth picked up his pace, his grip rough on her thin arm as they made their way down the staircase. She looked around in awe, seeing most of the people of Terminus in a panic and fleeing for their lives, while others held guns as threatening as the one in Gareth's hands and were headed towards a certain direction. As they finally went outside, she had to blink furiously at the bright sun stinging her eyes, her free arm shielding her eyes. She was jerked roughly by Gareth to move faster, and she obeyed, unable to look away from the chaos around her.

The screams were louder outside, and the smell of smoke and blood filled the air. She could see numerous Walkers making their way inside Terminus through the thick cloud of smoke and flames, others already devouring helpless victims in their paths. She felt fear well up inside at the sight of the undead, rotting creatures, but she forced herself to remain calm. She could handle this. If she could handle Gareth, she could handle Walkers. As she thought this, she felt Gareth stop abruptly, causing her to bump into his rigid back. He didn't move an inch, but his grip tightened on her arm, before he pulled her forward to stand beside him. She stumbled from the force, then stiffened at the sight of the tall, dark-haired man standing before her.

"Travis, get as many as you can and get out of here. Watch her. Take her with you." Gareth commanded, and she resisted the urge to flinch as obsidian eyes glittered maliciously when they spotted her. A disturbing leer crawled across his face as he took in her form, but he nodded obediently to Gareth and reached out for her. She forced herself not to tug away, her butterscotch eyes shifting over Gareth in a silent, reluctant plea.

"I can do that, man. No problem." Travis grunted; his Southern accent thick when he spoke. He paused, when Gareth pulled her close for a moment. Hazel eyes narrowed warningly, the color darkening as he stared at the other man. Travis shifted uneasily, the leer wiped from his face at the powerful glare Gareth delivered him. Gareth leaned closer, meeting the nervous, mud brown eyes of the man before him.

"She's mine, Travis. Remember that." He said evenly, and Travis nodded quickly, much to Gareth's satisfaction. He gave him a slow once over, then nodded as well. He must have seen something to assure him, for he loosened his grip on her arm and gave her a light push forward. She went reluctantly, glancing back at him. He was really letting her go with this creep? Just like that? Where was he going? Would he even make it out of Terminus alive? Would she? It wasn't that she was dependent on him; she hated Gareth more than anything, and she also feared him. But he was all that she had known for so long; she didn't know anything else. A yank on her arm brought her back to herself, and she refrained from scowling at the brute manhandling her.

"C'mon, gorgeous. Let's get out of here." Travis grunted, pulling the redhead along at a rapid pace. He kept her close as they weaved through Walkers, his gun firing off and eliminating them easily. She squinted through the smoke, glancing around her. She could feel the squish of blood and gore under her boots, and her stomach turned at the thought. Swallowing it down, she breathed through her slightly open mouth to calm herself. The screams and gunshots continued around them, rasping groans and snarls of the Walkers could be heard at every angle. Her heart was pounding as more and more Walkers came around them, and she could hear Travis curse under his breath as he fired off at them. They would drop dead to the ground, but more came right afterwards.

She suddenly felt someone beside her, and jolted in shock at a Walker snarling in her face. Rotted flesh dripped from its face, clawed and bony hands reaching for her as blackened teeth bore viciously at her. A scream escaped her throat, and, with a quick yank, tore herself away from Travis's grip and ducked. The creature stumbled from the quick move, and Travis let out a shout of his own at the sight of the Walker and the freed redhead. He lifted his arm to shoot at the creature, but he was too late.

Teeth chomped down on his arm, and this time, his scream turned into one of horror. She stood there in shock, watching as the Walker bore Travis down, and saw more staggering their way over to join in the feast of flesh. His screams rose louder as the rotting creatures ate their fill, blood spurting from his mouth, dark and wet. She didn't help him, she couldn't. But more than that, she wouldn't. A kind of satisfaction filled her at the sight.

"Help me! Lady, please!" Travis screamed for her, his wide eyes bulging out of his face in terror and agony. The redhead stared at him, her own butterscotch eyes blank and her full mouth tilted up slightly. Then, it hit her. He was being devoured, while she just stood there, free of chains and a captor. Her heart began to race once more, and her eyes widened. Then, she turned and bolted from the scene, never looking back.

She was free.