As soon as she felt the touch of a hand on her arm, she knew something was very, very wrong.

Instinctively she reached for her katana, but was met by another arm. In the process she noticed that Rick was no longer lying in front of her.

Still groggy, but with her heart racing with the threat of immediate danger hovering over her, Michonne opened her eyes to try to gauze the threat.

She saw one, two, maybe more...long, shaggy haired men. In the brief few seconds she saw them, she felt sick at her stomach. Technically, yes, they were men. But their odors, their horrendous brown-stained teeth, their shaggy hair and unkempt appearances suggested they more much closer to animals.

"Rick!" She shouted, but then the lights went dark, her head feeling a deeply intense pain she'd never in her life experienced before.

0000000

Their voices were what brought Michonne back to conscious, or the version of it she was trying to reach. Laughter...not the happy kind that she'd earlier shared with Rick. The way these men were laughing made her have to try to swallow the vomit she now felt welling up from her gut.

It was still hard to see, though it wasn't entirely dark in the room. Rays of sun stung her face, and it took Michonne a minute to realize why she was so confused. There was a stinging pain by what felt like the side of her face, and she surmised quickly that her eye was swollen after presumably being hit by one or more of these monsters.

Part of her just wanted to sleep, to try to get out of this moment however she could. But Rick...he depended on her. She had to survive, to fight these assholes-how many of them were there? - because Rick wouldn't be able-bodied enough to take these men out on his own.

Rick. Michonne's heart raced as she tried to blink, despite her pain, to try to process what was going on. She looked around...this wasn't the home she had found with Rick. She looked down and realized she was on a bed, her hands and legs tightly bound with what felt like wire of sorts.

Her instincts told her to try to locate her katana, and to plan her escape. But first...first she had to locate Rick. Knowing what and who she was dealing with was the first, and possibly most important part of her fight to survive. If she miscalculated what her surroundings were, well, even the difference of five men versus four could mean all the difference in her life or death scenario she was now in.

"Rick..." she hissed, her bandanna sliding slightly over her eyes.

"Aww, ain't that precious," one thug sneered. "She's looking for her boyfriend. He is your boyfriend, ain't he? I kinda figured he ain't your brother," he laughed, and she could hear others from all sides of her chiming in.

"Where is he," Michonne demanded.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't you be fretting over that boy. He's just fine, Ol' Stevey here is making sure he's dressed. I kinda take it it's been a while for the boy. Don't you know the first rule of thumb in sex in this world is you'd best be sure to cover at least your ass. Too many things could jump out and bite him, and then, well, you'd be missing some of that fine mancandy, now wouldn't you, darling?"

Michonne thrust with her entire body, wanting to see if she could escape. She knew it was foolish, and most likely futile, but with the chance Rick was out there waiting for her to find him, she was willing to try anything, anything, to get out of this situation.

"Seems we did her a solid," another gruff sounding drifter chimed in.

"You mean he's alive?" Michonne demanded.

More guffaws from the group. "Man, she ain't no dummy. Yes, ma'am, your boy..Rick, is it?" a tall, skinny, nearly toothless younger man stood over her and grinned. Just the sight of him made her feel even more sick. "Your boy is right out there, my brothers are , well, I ain't as smart as you. How do I say it? They're tending to his wounds?"

"What do you want from us?" she growled, pulling back as the toothless dude touched her face, his sweaty dirty hands leaving some kind of trace on her forehead.

"Us? No, ma'am. We're not that kind of guys. This may be the end of the world, but ain't nothing we've seen yet made us go that way with other dudes," the guy laughed. "But pussy on the other hand, well, that's mighty hard to come by. And it's been a long, long time for me."

"Me too," one by one, the group all chimed in.

Michonne lost count of how many voices she'd been trying to track. All she knew was that apparently there were at least a few more keeping Rick in another room.

"Do what you want with me. Just let him go," Michonne stated flatly.

They all laughed loudly. "Aw, ain't that sweet. Little missy here owes her, her what, her little sugar daddy," the man's voice drew out every syllable of the last two words." or her pimp or whatever..."

"Her master," another guy added, which led to more laughter.

Michonne bit her lip, wanting with every fiber of her being to kill these men, one by one, and not just a simple beheading by her katana. She wanted to torture these men for even thinking what they were thinking let alone what they were flat out saying they were going to do.

"Do what you want," she repeated calmly. "let him go."

"Aw, sweetie, that's so nice of you," toothless man replied. "But the thing is, darling, we're not requesting your permission."

"Hey, Paul," one added. So toothless man's name was Paul. Not that it mattered. When she was done with them there would be nothing distinguishing any of their body parts once she 'd ripped them apart. Names were pretty much inconsequential at this point. "She's missing her little buddy so much, what you say I bring him in? He can't join in, but he can appreciate the fun we're gonna have. Maybe give us a few pointers, since he had no problem pleasing the lady."

Paul nodded, looked around. The men's eyes all grew wide with anticipation, and Michonne for the first time really and truly believed she would never survive this moment. They were going to take turns raping her, and then they'd kill her. Somewhere along their little mission, they were going to kill Rick too.

Her legs tightened up, her arms grabbing on to the side of the bed for support. She was terrified, and had never, ever been this vulnerable before.

"Hey Chuckie, bring in old white boy," Paul shouted, and within a minute or two Michonne found her eyes making contact with Rick's.

He was hating this, she could see. Rick looked angry, but resigned at the same time. He'd cried a bit, she saw, and the pain on his face was all over his face.

"you...you leave her be..."Rick -threatened, his voice barely heard amongst the lustful commotion of the group.

"Stay back, Ricky," one commanded. They held him back, and he tried to fight, but it was apparent his struggle to fight back was a futile one.

Michonne, her body frozen with fear, closed her eyes, but not before she caught a glimpse of every man but Rick and his two captors unzipping their pants.

Suddenly she felt hands, so many, many hands, grabbing at her legs. All she'd had on was Rick's shirt which she'd haphazardly put on after her lovemaking with Rick. And now that shirt was being torn off piece by piece.

She could hear Rick cry, and she wanted to look at him, to try to send some message to him that she would not let these men kill her or Rick. That she'd never stop fighting for them. But her vision was obscured by one pot bellied man who'd taken off his own shirt and had hungrily thrown his body on top of hers.

And his wasn't the only body clamoring to access Michonne.

God she'd never been so terrified in her life.

And the moment she feared was happening in seconds...she could feel a man's dick, with his hand prying her thighs apart for access, very, very near her.

And she shut her eyes, preparing for the worse.

WHACK!

Michonne felt the weight of at least the fat man collapse on her, followed by more sounds of "WHACK! WHACK!"

She wasn't sure what was going on, but no more hands were tugging at her, even though it seemed as if she had the weight of a hundred men fall on her.

The only thing Michonne was able to do was to look up, and through her narrowed eyes, and she thought she was hallucinating. For she was sure she saw Morgan standing, his makeshift fighting stick in hand, and he looked down at her and smiled and nodded.

And then...and then Michonne saw nothing.

tbc