A/N: This story contains extremely triggering content and you need to proceed with caution. I would recommend that the readers of this story are 18+ and not easily triggered by abuse (physical, sexual, emotional or substance related), assault, or extreme violence. Also, this story will cover part of Daryl's backstory and it will include a companion fic that is a prequel to The Walking Dead. Daryl's history is canon-divergent because it's theory based and based on his past abuse.


"Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down"

Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine


Upon hearing a noise outside followed by a loud whine from the white dog that had visited earlier, Daryl grabbed the jar of pickled pig's feet, and began to walk to the front door to see what was going on. "-Well, well, well it looks like we got ourselves some dinner!" A rugged looking man with gray hair and a matching goatee exclaimed proudly. Daryl stood behind the door silently, squinting his eyes in the darkness, as he watched the men gathering around the entrance to the house. As the man lifted up the now dead dog, Daryl furrowed his brow in anger and disgust, then glanced back over to Beth. Realizing these men would try to get inside the house. Beth got up and slowly walked over to Daryl.

"What's goin' on?" She asked quietly, hearing the men outside and Daryl immediately lifted a finger to his lips to tell her to hush. She nodded then backed up into the kitchen once more to grab her bag and stuff it with whatever they could take. A jar of peanut butter, the pigs feet, and some soda cans were the only things she could put inside the bag without weighing herself down. "We need to get outta here," she whispered, Daryl nodded as he picked up his bow and other supplies.

"Yeah, c'mon," Daryl began as he started to help her walk through the halls of the house. Just as he heard a loud crash upstairs then a loud bang coming from his right side - he knew he needed to do the unthinkable. Gently, he held onto Beth as he lead her downstairs to the embalming room.

"Damn, this is one hell of a nice place! I say we claim it!" Daryl could hear one husky voiced man say from the floor above as he entered the home. "What'd y'all think 'bout that?" The voice continued as Daryl and Beth found their way into the room to hide.

As his eyes locked on the coolers, Daryl's sapphire blue eyes locked on Beth's beautiful ocean blue hues and she shook her head. "Nuh-uh," Beth whispered in disagreement; she knew exactly what Daryl was thinking.

"We gotta." The hunter replied, opening one of the doors to put their stuff in before he opened one for Beth. "Get in," he added, hearing footsteps coming from down the hall. Beth panicked and climbed inside the cooler, her heart feeling as though it was going to beat right through her ribs, just as she climbed into the cooler to hide. As soon as the door was shut, Daryl climbed into the locker beside of Beth, and shut the door right as two of the strange men walked into the room.

Daryl knew it wasn't in his nature to just hide and hide his stuff when out numbered but he knew what kind of men he was dealing with. They were the same type of people that Merle ran with and they were not the kind of people you'd want to meet on the street. He knew exactly what they were capable of and he knew he had to hide or risk their lives. "Hey, Joe, you gotta see this shit!" One man called out, another man walked into the room and guffawed at the bodies of walkers that were displayed in funeral clothing. "Who in the hell does this kind of thing to biters?" He questioned, the other continued to laugh and it evoked a quiet chuckle out of the man that had been speaking.

Beth closed her eyes tightly as she held her hand over her mouth. Her heart sank as she listened to those men trashing the thought of someone doing so kind. It was a very sweet thing this person had done for those walkers and deep in her heart, it really hurt her to think people could be so heartless, and make fun of such a caring act. Daryl, on the other hand felt a twinge of guilt inside as he listened - he knew what he sounded like earlier. Now he couldn't help but to see himself as a total prick for what he had said to Beth; she was right, it was a kind but strangely beautiful act. "Some nutjob," the other man finally responded as he stopped laughing while pulling back sheets on the other walkers. "Let's see what we can find in here!" He continued, Beth and Daryl could hear the smirk in his voice.

Daryl moved to grip the knife he thought he had with him, but it was in the bag with the other weapons. "Ah, shit," The archer thought as he continued to lay there silently in the dark, cold locker. Beth slowly shifted her weight to keep her hip from cramping up but when she moved - her knee gently hit the side of the metal locker, and her eyes widened.

"Oh God," Beth whispered to herself, just as she heard footsteps approaching the cooler. The door opened, exposing Beth's blonde locks as she was pulled out of the locker. She began to fight back, struggling as she flailed about, while a dark haired man held onto her tightly to get her to stand.

"Claimed."