DISCLAIMER: I regretfully own...nothing! :'(

Gaaaah, thank you so much for the encouraging reviews and follows on this story! I wasn't expecting much for this story so you people literally made my day. No, MONTH. So, thanks a lot! :D In this chapter, I'm introducing a character from the comic that I really found myself liking for whatever strange reason. This dude will play an important role in the story! The story will be a bit different from the comic and TV show because...well, it's more fun that way. ^^ Enjoy!

Ch. 2: Negan – Girl in the Woods

The world is now a freakin' wasteland.

Three weeks is all it takes for the world to flip over and die. It wasn't a slow, painful death, mind you. No, the world went out like a punk. One hit and it went down. The governments have long gone bye-bye. The National Guard is pretty much ka-put. Everywhere a guy looks, it's chaos and more chaos.

Hey, no complainin' comin' from this guy. Within the course of this one, eensy, weensy month, I've already found a new way of life. I'm a natural born leader, you see. That's what Mama always said. The old bag was right about something. You see, when the world goes to heck, the survivors want a source of leadership. Heck, the poor wimps needed a leader and who am I to turn away the innocent sheep-minded idiots?

Thus was born my camp of survivors—we call ourselves "The Saviors". It's got a nice ring to it. Anyway, we set up a nice place with walls to keep the Chompers out and plenty of food and water on the inside. A utopia, if you will. People gravitated to the place after hearing the rumors about warm beds, shelter, and food. They didn't have anywhere else to go. I welcomed them all with open arms.

Right now, I'd say we've got ourselves a sprawling community of around two hundred or so folks. A pretty nice number considering the fact that the world is getting' kinda short on people, at least the living kind.

"Oh, Lucy! I'm home!"

A swing of my bat lands a solid smack of wood and barbed wire across the forehead of a Puppet.

"Oooh! Nice one, Lucille!" I exclaim happily when a satisfying amount of tar-like blood flies out of the back of his gelatinous head. It collapses to the ground like a toppled tower of blocks.

"That was freakin' disgusting!" I note with a grin at the mutilated corpse at my feet. Yep, it's dead, alright. The giant bleeding hole in its face is a testament to that.

One of the Saviors, my trusty pal named Butch, walks up and spits at the body. A wiry grin takes over the grisly man's face. "That should take care of the Puppets getting close to camp, Leader-man."

"Yup," I agree. The toe of my boot digs into the hole of the dead Biter. I recoil with a half-disgusted/half-entertained squeal when maggots squirm out of their bloody home at the slight disturbance. One kick sends the infested head flying.

"Whoa! I shoulda played soccer, I really shoulda!" I proclaim. After listening to the rest of my men laugh, I raise my trusty lady Lucille to the air and give a lazy wave towards camp. "Alright, let's head back! I've gotta headache from all of these d*** gunshots…"

The men agree and start heading back towards our camp. I hum a song from some old movie I watched when I was a kid (something about a deer and a rabbit in a forest) and walk after them.

That takes care of nearby Puppets, so maybe that will turn my people into happy campers and stop them from chewing my butt off every time one little Biter makes it into camp and rips out someone's spleen. The people at my camp can be pretty high strung for a group of festering freeloaders.

A slight rustle from a nearby bush stops me dead in my tracks. A smile takes over my face as my hand finds the gun in my pocket. I withdraw it and give it a spin around my index finger. I continue the song, but this time in a whistle. My eyes never leave the bush as I slowly approach it.

Sneaky, weaky Puppets…

In one sharp movement, my gun thrusts into the bush. A startled yelp comes out of the bush and it sure as heck doesn't sound like a Puppet.

"Walk out slowly and with your hands up, pretty please," I coo while nudging around with the gun. I hit something soft that earns another squeal from our little bush-dweller. It's not often you find a live one out here so I must admit, I'm a little excited.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming out!"

My eyes widen as a young woman emerges from the bush with her small hands raised high above her head. She's a tiny thing with a round face that almost makes her look like a kid. Dark hair falls down either side of her brown face and its tangled up something bad. There's a pretty grimy-looking hoody on her small frame and it's sporting a college logo. College kid, huh? I would have thought those spoiled pricks would have been the first to go. Too pissy drunk to fight off the undead. This girl must have been a fighter.

I study her for a moment before nudging her chin with my gun. "You look like total s***, little college girl," I say.

The girl sniffles and offers me the tiniest of smiles her chapped lips can muster up. "Well," she begins in a voice that matches her child-like face. "Do you think maybe you could help me with that?"

I lower the gun and guffaw. Girl's got a little spunk in her.

"Cute," I say with a jaunty grin that the girl just barely returns. Fatigue and fear is written all over her features, but there's relief hidden under all of that, relief at seeing another human being after who knows how long. "What's your name?" I ask.

"Bree Evans," she replies with absolutely no hesitation. Guess apprehension with strangers goes out the window when the apocalypse hits.

I put my gun away and give her my friendliest of smiles, the ones that made all the girls in college melt. It seems to put her at ease somewhat. Her body relaxes and she lowers her hands to her sides.

"Well, Bree, first thing's first! Congrat-u-freakin'-lations for surviving this long! That's really something, you know? Especially for a college kid. You oughta feel good about yourself! Come on, give yourself a little applause!"

The young woman glances around, confused, before her hands bring themselves together in an unsure round of applause. I join her and then give another laugh when her lips curve up into a smile.

"Good, good! Bet that felt good, didn't it?"

The girl gives an unsure laugh but nods her head. "I-It kinda did."

"Of course it did!" I bellow. I turn to my men, who have already turned back around to see what was keeping their leader. "Boys, looks like we've got ourselves a new member!" I look back at the girl. "You do like food and shelter, don't ya?" I tease with a wink.

The girl beams. "Y-Yes!" she nearly sobs. "Thank you so much, Mr…?"

"Just call me Negan, sweetheart," I tell her with a tilt of my head. "Negan will do just fine for now."

A/N: Hay thurr, Negan! :D What're you doin' here?

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I apologize for its shortness. The next chapter is a bit longer!

Bree's POV next chappie. See yaaaa!

Peace man,

CR