It was a day not unlike any other, all things considered.

I was on my private jet, en route to Seoul from Tokyo for a photo shoot to promote next season's most luxurious evening wear. It seems strange how I never stood a chance as a model in the Western world, yet in Asia I was an instant celebrity.

Most fashion models have tall, lithe bodies. I, on the other hand, am quite the opposite - at barely five feet tall, I have extremely wide hips and a tiny waist; having an athletic build, my powerful legs createdeven more imbalance to my form. My hair falls well below my toned ass, though for practicality's sake I keep it in a bun nearly all the time.

You see, I had originally gone to Japan to get a business degree, which just so happened to be funded by the Japanese government. My track record was impressive: a 4.0 GPA, fluency in six languages, and an extensive array of honors in various arts. People had called me a genius; I had called mysellf an obsessive mess.

And yet, there I was at the tender age of twenty... on a private jet, set to mingle with those beautiful people who were beloved by the masses and the undervalued artists who made them what they were. An unexpected turn of events, to say the least.

As I laid back and closed my eyes, I could have never imagined what would happen next.

It was all rather sudden. My eyes flew open at the unexpected grip on my wrists, yet I only saw black cloth. Attempting to fight back, I kicked and began to scream - only to have something pressed against my face. If I had been in my right mind, I would have held my breath... but who thinks clearly when they are ambushed in their sleep?

Suddenly, everything was fuzzy. As the world began to fade away, I felt a pinch in my arm and heard a gentle voice...

"Don't be scared, I'm here to help you... to help everyone..."

Help everyone? What could that possibly...

It is a strange sensation, isn't it? Am I... floating? Drifting? I see only darkness around me. It's so cold - I've never felt so cold in my life. I feel as though I'm suffocating; as though the darkness is drowning me. Is this a dream?

Yes, yes, it has to be a dream. What was I... the plane... the photo shoot... the man.

The man? That's right... the man on the plane, he shot me up with something, didn't he?

I need to wake up now.

Wake up.

Wake up!

WAKE UP!

I jolt straight up, hitting your head on something above me.

"Damn!"

I hold my hand to the top of my head. Wincing, I look around the room.

"What... the hell is this?"

It's almost like a hospital room, but not quite. The bed I am in is like a capsule of sorts; I had hit my head on the lid. The room is dim, with only a small wall sconce and the beds display panel providing light.

A voice emanates from the panel.

"Cycle complete. Powering down."

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. I'm still wearing the same clothes; a white lace dress and matching sneakers. My hair is still up in a tight bun. I feel my thighs beneath my dress, expecting to find them bare.

"... Still there."

Why had the man not taken them from me? Perhaps he wasn't well informed. Whatever the case may be, that was a mistake on his part.

I walk out of the room and into a hallway. The hallway is lined with doors, five on each side, including mine. At one end of the hallway is an open door, at the other is a locked door protected by some sort of electronic lock, likely a fingerprint scanner. The men who kidnapped me are here, somewhere - I need to be careful.

I find that the 9 remaining hallway doors are locked. I creep past the open door, expecting to find some sort of security; however, you find a pantry. Feeling especially hungry, I eye the shelves.

"Man, someone really picked this place over... they need to restock the snack room."
What little remained in the pantry had been opened a good while earlier. None of it was edible. I take a swig from a half empty water bottle before stepping back out into the hallway.

I examine the locked door intently. There are no windows for me to peak through; I have no way of knowing what is on the other side. I feel certain that I'll find whoever kidnapped me on the other side... and I am going to make them pay.

"Now the question is, should I go back to my room and wait or bust down this fucking door..."

"Voice recognized - Welcome back, Subject 001!"

I jump back at the unexpected reply and brace myself for the ensuing fight as the door swings open -
Only to reveal another empty room.

Seriously, what the hell is up with this place?

The room is barren, except for a note taped to the door across the room, a set of keys hanging next to the knob. The note was short and to the point; saying to lock the door and be back before dark.

Seriously? All this shit, all this trouble, and I get to just take the keys and go?

I pause, silently determining whether or not I should open the door. Why bother thinking about this? Of course I'm going to open the fucking door and get the hell out of here!

This... isn't Seoul.

Hell, this isn't even Korea! It's not even Asia!

"How the hell did they get me to fucking Maryland!?"

I honestly can't believe this. What even? This person took the time to get onto my plane, drug me, and take me back to America... just to let me walk out the front door?

In front of me is a road. I can see a Maryland State Trooper's vehicle, a sign denoting that I am some thirty-two miles from Washington DC, and not much else besides trees. I walk over to find the vehicle unlocked, but with no keys. There is a moldy sandwich on the dash. Now, that's just gross.

The silence is eerie. It's been a long time since I was in the backwoods of anywhere. After living in the city for so long, the silence is... unnerving. Almost unnatural.

Left with little choice, I turn and start walking down the road; the trooper had to have come from somewhere, right?

I must have been walking down this road for at least three hours.

Something isn't right, here, I think to myself.
I mull over recent events in my mind as I walk, noting an unusual amount of abandoned cars on the road. I feel a bit depressed when I realize that I must have missed the photo shoot; now I have a blemish on my pristine reputation. It doesn't matter if I was kidnapped- I had a contract and I didn't pull through. Perhaps the publicity of being an escaped kidnapping victim will boost my career? Everyone loves a survivor… especially if they are easy on the eyes.

Suddenly, my day seems a bit brighter - in the distance, I see a truck surrounded by people, beautiful people, people who will know where the hell I am and what is going on, who will help me out and deliver me to civilization from bum fuck Egypt!
I begin to walk faster; as giddiness takes over, I transition to a full out run towards my soon-to-be saviors.

"Hey! You there! You guys!"

They look my way and I wave at them. The people seem to bristle a bit - but wouldn't I, if some weird chick was running my way like an idiot in the middle of the woods?

"Oh my God, I can't believe I'm seeing real people again! Please, I'm lost, can you help me? Can I borrow your phone!?"

The people narrow their eyes and take a step back, unsure what to make of me. They are all heavily armed, yet it is evident that they aren't hunting. Why?

"I... I'm sorry, I know this is rude, but today has been crazy and I really could use some help!"

I put on my brightest smile. They don't.

"Now who the fuck might you be?"

A man steps out from behind the truck. He's way older than you... reminds me of a biker, with his leather jacket. He swings a bat covered in barb wire around in the air - I notice it's covered in blood.

Something is definitely not right here. Who are these people?

"Well, I'm a little lost and a lotta hungry! Nice to meet you! And you are?"

I reach my hand out, expecting him to shake it. Instead, he rests the bat on his shoulder and looks down at me. I can't decipher the look on his face - if I had to guess, I would say curiosity and... uncertainty? Nothing about him seems uncertain... no, he is appraising me.

"... I'm Negan. And these are my fucking Saviors."
His saviors? Alarms are ringing in my ead - I can tell that this is going to become explosive if I don't diffuse the situation. Best approach: play dumb and innocent.

"Oh... so are you guys part of a church group or something? That's cool! When I was a kid, I did all sorts of church plays - do y'all ever do any of that? Are you going to some sort of... I don't know, trans-Diocese meeting or -"

"We ain't fucking Catholic. I don't think you have a god damn clue who the fuck you are talking to."

"I..."

Wait, what did he just say to me?
"... You know, I think I'm just going to keep walking. Have a nice day, y'all!"

I go to walk past this Negan fellow when he blocks my way with the bat.
"Where the fuck you going? I didn't get to introduce you to Lucille - she's a mean fucking bitch, a real vampire bat. I bet she'd just fucking love to meet you up close and fucking personal."

Did he just... threaten me? I look up to find him staring directly at me. Our eyes meet and never in my life have I felt such intimidation. Oh, no. I don't put up with that shit.
For what seems like an eternity, I lock eyes with Negan, as if there is a silent challenge to see who will back down. I debate whether or not it's worth getting in a swift kick to the balls before I leave. After all, I can't kill him just for being an asshole, I think to myself. Finally, I find my voice.

"I... am going to forgive that," I say, as I grab his wrist and move the bat out of my way with relative ease.

As I look him in the eyes, his expression changes. He looks intensely interested now, and I can see a spark of anger... and something else. I recognize it as the same look the majority of men give me on the street. I take a few steps past him. It doesn't matter that he's seen this side of me now; I'll never see him again anyway.

"Today is your God damn lucky day!"
Negan speaks with an upbeat, yet slightly aggressive tone.

"I'm going to make you the best fucking offer of your God damn life, sweetheart. A fucking pretty little thing like you, walking off to get eaten by fucking zombies? No! I'm about to make your fucking day!"

This man is insane. What about fucking zombies? They aren't even real! I need to get out of here. I pick up my pace and walk faster.

Swinging Lucille around once more, he calls after me - "Don't fucking walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"
He strides towards me, quickly closing the distance. As I am about to break out into a full run, something stops me dead in my tracks.

Rather, something dead stops me in my tracks.

A small crowd of people hobble toward me. Something isn't right, though - they don't look right, they don't walk right - lost in thought, I jump when Negan grabs my arm.
"Now listen, I know we got off on the wrong fucking foot, but I'm willing to look past that and -"

Not taking my eyes off of the people, I interrupt with what will later seem like a rather stupid question: "What's wrong with them?"

Negan stops talking and looks at me strangely. He lets go of my arm.

"They're the fucking walking dead, doll. Don't act like you ain't never fucking seen walkers before!"

His words slowly sink in. These people are plainly dead, it's something that can't be denied. Yet, they are up and walking, rotting flesh and all. These people are zombies - and they are heading straight for us. This is real. This is happening.
I stumble back a few steps.
"What... what the fuck is wrong with you people! What the hell is going on here!?"

I turn to run when Negan grabs me by the shoulder.
"You ain't fucking telling me you never seen walkers before!"

"Let go! I don't know what weird shit you people are into but I'm not fucking hanging around!"
I issue a good hard slap to his face, pausing momentarily only to see a look of utter rage. As I turn back around, I find myself inches from one of them.

I am so in shock from what is in front of me that I can't even scream. Its face is partially chewed off, exposing the inside of its mouth of the left side; the rest of the skin is grey and leathery. The unmistakable smell of rot bombards my nose as I stare into its pale eyes. Here I am, standing face to face with an actual zombie. Is this it? Is this where I die? Time seemingly grinds to a halt as the walker leans towards me. Like a train wreck you can't look away from, all I can do is watch as I'm faced with this untimely demise. Suddenly, Lucille comes smashing down on the walker's head. I don't even flinch.

"Fucking acting like you ain't never seen a walker before..."

I turn my head to see Negan promptly destroy the small crowd of walkers. I can see that he enjoys it, swing after swing. It is rather unrefined, bashing in their heads with a bat, but... somehow beautiful. Negan is beautiful. He reminds me of myself from a time long past. I feel dizzy.

"Now look fucking here, we are going to have a good long fucking talk abo- Shit!"

I don't know whether it is fatigue or shock, but I collapse onto the ground; my vision fades to black as I watch Negan walk towards me.