"Time to wake up, Charlotte," a gentle voice prodded as a slender hand shook my shoulder. My eyes opened instantly, meeting the worn face of Lily, the brothel keeper. "The Governor is requesting your presence at his side for the fight." I forced my face to remain neutral, giving a stiff nod. "Your clothes are already being prepared and your water has been drawn."
"Thank you, Lily," I replied in my usual crisp accent before going into the bathroom. A warm bath awaited me. As I stripped down and settled into it, I found it ironic that it was customary for the Governor to ask his call-girls to bathe before being brought into such a world of filth. Now I should be grateful that I'm alive—and in some ways, I am. But I do rather wish he would have just killed me off when he met me. Like the others in my group.
I submerged beneath the water, eyes closed. No matter how many times I slid beneath the surface, I would never be able to erase the memories the Governor had given me. The only thing that could stop them was if he finally got tired of me. Not that that would really happen. I'm his favorite harlot. His Charlotte. I emerged, a sigh escaping from my lips. Time to get dressed—in scarlet, no less.
As if on cue, a few of the other girls walked in. They were all new. I could tell by the way that they inspected everything in the room. What could be used as a weapon, points of entry and exit opportunities, anything of value to steal—all of the basic instincts that the Governor would drill out of them. "Miss Charlotte," the tallest of the trio addressed me. I gave a tired, short nod.
The brunette, about middle-height, held out a towel for me. I slipped into it as the tallest, a blonde, began to wrap my hair in a towel. The third, the shortest and also a blonde, began to disassemble my dress for the day. The Governor was fond of Victorian-style garb. That meant that his favorite whores and women of the like were all to be dressed in similar fashion. We were given four dresses each. And they had to be as clean as possible. That was where the younger girls came into play. That would help to dress, bathe, and otherwise tend to his favorites. They often do not last so I never bother to learn their names anymore.
After my hair was dry enough to cascade in its natural curls, the girls began to dress me. They were finished nearly half an hour later. Lily came in to check on our progress. The Governor was here. As I was leaving, the brunette grabbed my wrist gently. "Miss Charlotte," she said softly, big brown eyes wide and full of hidden terrors. "How do you do it?"
I gave her a wry, bitter smile. It was the kind of smile that revealed just how long I had been with the Governor. An exact measure of time was irrelevant—time didn't really have much meaning now. I wasn't even sure what month it was or even if my birthday had gone by. It probably hadn't. I'm a winter baby. And it was just now starting to get that crisp, cool scent of fall in the air. But the weather could have taken a plummet along with any moral decency left in this world. Or what's left of the world period.
The brunette dropped her hand from my wrist, taking a cautious step back. She must have assumed that I hated what I did. I do. But I can't change it. "You learn," I replied, stepping away from her and heading for the front parlor. Lily was sitting with the Governor and a few of his men. When he saw me, he immediately stood and walked over to me, taking my hand in his before drawing it to his lips. This gesture probably would have charmed me Before but now it repulsed me.
"Shall we go, my pet?" he asked, holding out the customary leash we were to wear when he desired. I forced a pretty smile, moving my curls out of his way so that he could fasten it around my neck. His hand lingered at the nape of my neck for a few moments before dropping to the chain that was attached. He clenched it tightly. "See that my men are well tended to, Lily."
"Of course, sir," she replied. Any ounce of gentility and warmth was gone from her face. We all had learned to wear similar looks when dealing in business matters with the Governor. But you also had to make him think that you liked it. Such a fine line to walk—but may God help you if you veer off course or stumble. If God even still wants to claim us after all of this. If I was God, I wouldn't. But maybe this is just God's wrath. Retribution for all of our sins.
I bit back the hollow laugh that threatened to escape, smiling or laughing at the Governor when necessary and keeping my mouth shut otherwise. It wasn't long until he was done parading me around, taking me to the seats at the top of the ring. There was a handful of the Infected waiting there, staring hungrily around the arena at the crowd. A few guards came to stand near us, protecting the Governor in case anything were to go wrong.
"I think you'll like this fight, my Charlotte," he cooed at me, his hand resting on my arm to be sure he had my full attention.
"Oh?" I smiled, looking as interested and excited as I could muster. Out of everything he made me do, this was the worst. Watching innocent people fight to their deaths. There was usually a victor—but even then the victor could easily throw him- or her- self to the Infected and be done with the world. Nothing good ever came from winning a fight. It only meant that there would be more fights ahead. And more blood on their hands.
"One of your old friends, Margaret, volunteered." A malicious grin dashed across his face, settling deep within his eyes. "She wanted me to spare the life of some man." He leaned back, the grin turning a deep, crimson shade of arrogance. "Let's see if she still wants to spare his life after this." It was hard to keep my face neutral as the information sunk in. Margaret, the woman who had helped me adjust to this life, was being pitted against a man whom she had wanted to save. She had been my old house mother, preceding Lily. This was going to be the hardest fight to watch.
And he chose me to watch it with him just for this reason. My jaw clenched, earning a gleeful chuckle from the man. If I wouldn't have been shot on the spot, I would have attempted to take his life. But the guards would have stopped me before I even had the chance. Soon, the fight was signaled to stop.
Margaret, a once pleasantly plump woman, stumbled into the arena looking as if she had not had any food since the last time I had seen her. In all honesty I had assumed that she was dead. But now she was about to be. A frail looking man with glasses was the next to appear in the ring. He looked terrified. By his appearance, I would have suspected that he had done some sort of math for a living. And he had not managed to build much of a physical physique even in this new version of our world.
The man stayed close to Margaret, who was speaking to him. The Infected had not yet noticed that a source of food was right under their noses. Their senses were on overload from the sheer mass of people in comparison to them. When the man moved away from Margaret was when they noticed that there was food within their reach. And they wasted no time in going after it.
Margaret threw herself in front of the man, allowing the Infected to begin tearing her flesh apart. The frail man huddled near the edge of the ring, sinking into the fetal position as the Infected feasted on my old friend. I turned my head away, feeling quite queasy. The Governor grabbed my chin, forcing me to watch.
"Aren't you enjoying the show, my dear?"
My lips twitched into something that I hoped resembled a smile as I held back my vomit. When Margaret's corpse had been eaten in its entirety, the fight was called to an end. The man was named the victor as one of the guards held up his hand. And, then, a second put a bullet through the back of his head, leaving him for the infected. To win one of these fights and leave alive, you have to entertain the Governor. And neither the man nor Margaret had entertained him. That meant that neither would be able to live until tomorrow.
"And, now, for the celebration," he declared, pulling me to my feet by my leash and leading me to his sleeping quarters. My mind dulled as I prepared for what had to happen next.
It was a few hours before he was finished with me. He handed me the appropriate amount of money for groceries to give to Lily and called one of his guards to escort me back. I was relieved to see that it was Merle Dixon he called in. Unlike the other guards, he was kind to me. The Governor handed my reigns over to Merle, telling him to take me straight back to the Brothel and to make certain that Lily got the money.
We were a few blocks away before Merle stopped dragging me around like a dog and took off the leash. "Thank you," I replied, rubbing my neck gratefully.
"I like ya," he replied dismissively. "Ya ain't stupid like the rest of the girls."
"And you aren't a jackass like most of the guards," I chuckled darkly. He sent me a wry smirk as we walked in silence. By now the streets of the town were empty. Our curfew had passed. Not even the other guards were walking freely about. They were at their designated posts and that was it. Anyone who wasn't supposed to be on duty was treated as a civilian in the event that they were to wander outside. Execution on sight. And this is all because some guy thinks that he's the new messiah.
"Ya remind me of my little brother, ya know," he spoke suddenly into the silent night. I turned to look at him curiously. He suddenly appeared to have aged ten years, making me wonder once again how old Merle really was. He wouldn't say—but I knew he was at least fifteen years older than me.
"What happened to him?"
"I dunno." There was a heavy regret in his voice. "I was never real good to no one, ya know? An' that came back aroun' to bite me in the ass." I studied him in the moonlight.
"I never did understand how someone like you got roped into this," I admitted.
"Did?"
"I do now, yes." He waited for me to continue. "Punishing yourself into this life is your way of repenting for whatever you've done so far. Is it working?"
"We'll find out." There was some silence after this. "How'd you end up here anyhow?"
"From England or at the Brothel?"
"Both."
"I got a job offer over here," I lied smoothly, falling into the story I had told the Governor many times. "I used to sing and a record company offered to sign me. So I picked up and came over just before the Infected began popping up everywhere."
"So that's why he has ya workin' as dinner entertainment, too." I nodded.
"As for the Brothel—well, he decided that he liked me when he found me. All because my name is Charlotte."
"Charlotte?"
"He's a fan of Bob Dylan." When he looked at me blankly, I sighed before singing: "Charlotte's a harlot, dresses in scarlet."
"And that's why no one else can wear red."
"Right." We were at the front steps of the Brothel. His face returned to its usual blank state as he knocked. Lily answered the door, looking relieved to see me in one piece. I handed her the money, which she took without counting. I'm not even sure if she uses the money he gives her or if she uses the money from the other girls' earnings.
Merle gave me a slight nod before strolling away in the moonlight. I stood for a few moments, watching him walk away, before going inside with Lily. "I heard about the fight," she said tentatively. I glanced at her as I took off my jewelry. "That must have been horrible to—"
"Nothing is pleasant any more, Lily," I replied softly. "But no, that wasn't particularly pleasant." The image of Margaret's flesh-derived corpse flashed before my eyes. I shut my eyes, forcing the image away as I squeezed the bridge of my nose. "I almost forget what life was like before."
Her voice was soft when she replied. "Some days, I think it was all a dream." I turned, giving her a sad half-smile. "But enough of that. Let's get you ready for bed." She rang a bell, summoning the three girls from before. The four of us then proceeded to my bedroom where they helped me to undress. Once they were gone, I put on one of my night gowns and crawled into bed even though it was still relatively early. It seemed that all I did lately was sleep whenever I wasn't otherwise needed by the Governor.
It didn't take long for me to fall asleep.
This is just a story idea that I'm kicking around. The Veldt is still my main priority as far as this site is concerned. But I have ADD when it comes to projects. I'm working on a few different ones. Yet this story just intrigued me so much that I'm going to try and tell it as it comes to me.
This was almost entirely inspired by a simple drive into work, where I spent time in between selling things to customers jotting down notes on a pad of paper that was later used to create this chapter. The rest of the inspiration was from Bob Dylan-I so dearly love that man's musical genius. He's one of my favorites, hands down. (Which is kind of odd since The Veldt is inspired by a rapper. But I don't do genres very well. They perplex me.) I also just love the Walking Dead and, with what little knowledge I actually have of the Governor, I imagine that this would be an acceptable alternate universe? If not: well, it is now. ;)
Anyway, I wish no copyright infringement on Bob Dylan or AMC's Walking Dead. It's merely for fun, yada yada yada. I do not own anything except the non-cannon characters like Charlotte, Lily, etc. :)
Enjoy!
~ Lynn