Marcus died during the night – apparently the boiling water had burned straight through his lungs when he was tortured. It happened pretty abruptly, but frankly we should've expected it.

The people sharing a cell with him should've been expecting it too.

They were all asleep when it happened… two young men slept soundly as Marcus turned and ripped their throats out while they snoozed. It was so sudden that they didn't have any time to react, and by the time the guards put Marcus down it was far too late. The deed had been done, and now three more of us are dead. I say us because that's just what we are now – we're all a part of the same screwed-up, trampled on family that's sick to death of this happening.

It just goes to show, I guess – no matter where you go, no matter how safe you think you are… in reality you're in just as much danger as those outside the prison fences. And these days, it's the living you need to be more afraid of than the dead. Walkers are predictable, humans aren't as much. Walkers are slow and stupid; humans can run and plan ahead.

Walkers want to eat you alive.

Humans would rather have you suffer first.

Mikael wants in on whatever we're trying to do – it seems that all it took was his best friend to get killed for him to come around. He's had enough, and he figures that death while trying to escape from this madman would be better than a death while hunched over some crops.

Dominic… I'm not really sure. He's in on our planning meetings, which occur when the guards aren't looking as we work out in the fields. Lilly and I draw scenarios in the dirt while he, Mikael and Jane watch us; occasionally pointing out a flaw or risk that we've neglected. We can't have any mistakes, or else we're all dead.

Jane's hand is now covered by a thick bandage, and I occasionally see her holding back tears whenever she looks down on it. Sandro tortured her… after they sent us to Mexico, Jane tried to fight back against one of the guards even though she was shot, so they took her into the main office building. Sandro was told about what had happened, so he beat her up before bringing her over to the kitchen table. He grabbed a steak knife and… you put the pieces together.

"We're gonna kill them all," I remember Lilly saying to me one evening just before we all went to bed. "Every last fucking one of these monsters. Sandro, Corvo and Papa John are all gonna die."

This has been planned out for two weeks now, and finally the pieces are coming into place. At first it was just a small group of us planning to escape, but as news of our efforts have spread throughout the camp, more people have begun talking. There are whispers about a rebellion – the biggest one this place has ever seen – and it's getting people anxious as hell, but also incredibly excited. Most of these people have been prisoners here for quite a long time, and to hear talks of freedom and escape from Sandro's reign is something that they've only dreamed of.

However, just as it's reached the ears of the other prisoners, it's also being picked up on by the guards.

They've been ordered to have their guns trained on us diligently all day, just in case one of us try to make a run for it. However, they don't really have a clear idea of who's planning this thing, so for now we're off the hook.

It doesn't take long for me to get called into the office though, after they see me drawing something in the dirt instead of working. They bark out something in Spanish that I can't understand, but I'm pretty sure it's somewhere along the lines of "stop what you're doing". I nod nervously to Jane and Lilly, trying to let them know that I'll be alright, but deep down I'm not so sure. If Jane's hand and face are any indication, then I should be afraid – very afraid.

As I'm escorted into the office, almost the entire working prisoners drop their tools, stand up and place one hand across their chest – I can't help but be wowed and smile as they do this. Now more than ever, we're all the same, and the security guards don't know what to do. It's not as if they can shoot everyone – that'd take away their business, not to mention create a whole bunch of walkers for them to deal with.

The guards can yell all they want, but we're a force to be reckoned with now. The ball's rolling, and moss can't grow on a rolling stone.

I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I think it has to do with us moving forward or something like that. I don't know, I'm only eleven after all! Or am I twelve now? Grr… you're making me frazzled, I don't even know!

I'm tossed into a dark room with several paintings adorning the walls; most of them seem to be from a long time ago, since I don't know any guys that wear white, fluffy wigs anymore. The carpet is a soft red and adorned with little, yellow stars that run along it. Walking down the hallway, I hear the giant doors shut behind me, and I have no choice but to go forward. The ceiling's pretty high, with a busted chandelier in the main hallway with some wallpaper peeling off the walls. Compared to the rest of the world, this place is like a palace.

I hear the sound of some things crashing together, and I turn the corner to see that asshole Sandro playing a game of pool with Corvo just across from him. There's another prisoner with his hand bound behind his back just watching them play in fear, as if they're about to do something completely horrible to him. When Sandro sees me approach, he simply points beside the other prisoner as I reluctantly stand beside him. He and Corvo then resume playing.

I'm scared of this man, but I don't show it on my face. The guy beside me, however, is practically shitting his pants just being in the same room as Sandro and Corvo.

"I hear that there have been talks of rebellion," Sandro remarks suddenly, sinking one of the balls into the hole as he lines up for another shot. "And the two of you are my prime suspects – drawing shit in the dirt instead of doing what you're told. Don't try bullshitting me, I'm not an idiot, and neither is Corvo."

"Please, I'll do anything you ask of me! I swear!" the scared prisoner begs, his eyes wide and teeth chattering as Corvo spits over at him. "Just… just give me a chance! I don't want anything to do with those traitors! Take the girl if you wish, but please just let me serve you again!"

I can't believe the nerve of this prick – throwing me completely under the bus in a desperate attempt to save his own hide! I glare at him from the side, but I say nothing as I hold my composure. No sense in giving them the satisfaction of a confession.

Besides, if it's any indication, Sandro doesn't seem to appreciate this guy's behaviour. He rolls his eyes before standing up and looking over at his partner in crime.

"I think that's enough for a day," he sighs, shaking Corvo's hand with a smirk. "Good game, my friend. We'll make a professional out of you yet!"

"With you at the helm, it'll only be a matter of time!" Corvo praises, causing me to roll my eyes which thankfully none of them notice. Talk about sucking up to the boss…

"Flattery will only get you so far, Corvo," Sandro chastises, voicing my thoughts as he pats his chief officer on the arm. "But enough of this. We've got a problem to sort out now, do we not?"

Turning to the two of us, Sandro bends down and tries to address both of his prisoners at the same time. He seems to not really give a crap about the scared little man over here, but he studies my face for longer than I thought he would've. His face is cold and calculating, and I can practically feel his judgemental attitude as he scans my face. Does he respect me, or am I going to be his next victim?

"You say that this little fucking girl is responsible for this plan of yours?" Sandro asks, which causes the man to whiten considerably. When he says it like that, the whole notion sounds a little bit ridiculous, doesn't it?

It's not as if he's wrong, though…

"W-well, maybe… She's definitely involved though!" the man accuses as I fold my arms across my chest. "I've seen her plotting with the other prisoners!"

"Which ones, exactly?"

"I'm… not entirely sure," he admits sheepishly, glaring at me with a venomous look as if it'll convince these two monsters of my guilt. "But I've seen her do it! She plans to destroy this place, I know she is! You… you have to let me go! She's the guilty one, not me!"

Corvo steps forward, but Sandro simply motions for him not to do anything. With a watchful eye, Corvo scrutinizes me with a harsh glare. Sandro turns towards me with indifference.

"What is your name, American?"

"Clementine."

"Clementino," he nicknames me, chuckling as he shakes his head and stands back up. "Well, Clementino, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"It won't matter what I say… This guy will just tell me I'm wrong," I point out, causing the prisoner to growl at me. He's asking for it, seriously! "You're just a bully with a gun and a lot of nerve. If you're going to kill me, do it quickly."

Honestly, I have absolutely no idea where my guts have come from, but it seems to have an effect on Sandro – he looks pretty impressed. Corvo looks shocked that I'd stand up to the big boss like that, and the prisoner just wants to go home.

Cracking his knuckles, I brace myself for the impact from Sandro's fists, but no punches come my way. As I open my eyes hesitantly, I see that he isn't even facing either of us anymore. Rather, he's using one of those square shaper thingies on the end of his pool cue without a care in the world.

"Go on back out. Walk – there will be no running in this house," Sandro mutters, but stopping me as I turn to leave without even looking at me. "No, no. Not you, Clementino."

The prisoner won't look me in the eyes as he slowly stands up and begins to leave; his hands still tied behind his back. Sandro gives me a sideways glance before snapping the pool cue in half – revealing two very sharp, splintered ends.

"This is how you command undying loyalty and respect, Clementino," he murmurs lowly enough for just Corvo and me to hear. The prisoner has no inkling about what's about to happen.

But I do…

I've seen death many times over… so many times in fact that it hardly even fazes me anymore. It happens to everyone eventually, and getting super upset I've found is just emotionally taxing and just not worth it. AJ was an exception, seeing's how he was just a baby and all, but I barely bat an eyelid when Sarah died. I just told her to close her eyes and accept what was happening to her…

For a man that tried to blame me like this, I have very little sympathy left for. But even he doesn't deserve this.

Silently strolling behind the man, Sandro stabs the prisoner right through the back as he collapses onto his knees; gasping for air that he's losing as the blood pours onto the carpet. Sandro yanks the stick out of his back, kicks him over and stabs him again in the throat. He then takes the second part of the pool cue and slams it down into his eye, which finally manages to kill him.

When I realize that my mouth was hanging ajar, I quickly shut it and try to block out those disgusting images from my mind as Corvo stands beside me; barely even flinching as he watches Sandro drive the cue right into his brain to prevent a walker transformation.

It takes a sick and evil kind of person to be this cruel, but these men pull it off flawlessly. Lilly's words repeat in my head – Sandro, Corvo and Papa John have to die. But what could I possibly do in this situation? If I try anything, the best I can hope for is the same fate as the fellow dead on the carpet. These men are murderers without remorse, and killing a child would probably be the same to them as swatting a fly out of mid-air.

"Do you want to know why we didn't kill you?" Sandro asks aloud, wiping the blood on the dead man's clothes as he turns back around.

Not giving him the satisfaction of a response, I grimace at him as he casually walks over towards me; his body towering over me but not intimidating as I hold my ground.

"We need workers like you around here," he reasons matter of factly. "That man you see on the floor? He was weak – wanted to take the easy route and blame you for all of his problems. That kind of attitude would've killed him anyways. So really, I just sped up the process a little bit."

"That's not your decision to make," I retort angrily. "You treat us like slaves, force us to work for nothing, and if you don't like how a thing's done you just torture them! You're a monster!"

"How dare you address Sandro that way!" Corvo lashes out at me, but he is surprisingly stopped by Sandro as he waves him off.

"You… you're friends with that tough-looking woman, weren't you? Oh… what was her name…?"

"Jane!" I yell with indignity. "She was my friend, and you cut off her fingers because you're fucking crazy!"

I only drop the f-bomb if I'm really pissed off, but this guy totally deserves it. He deserves every swear in the book directed at him, but I don't know enough of them to use against him. Besides, sometimes it's better to get your message across with as few words as possible.

He looks me over with a smirk for a few seconds before beckoning for me to join him down the hall, with Corvo standing behind me at all times with his rifle.

"Try to run, and you're dead…" the officer warns, getting no argument from me as we move into some kind of living room.

Or at least, it used to be a living room. Now it's got loads of maps, important documents and emergency escape routes all sitting on a big office desk. There's a fireplace burning on the far wall with several nice living room chairs surrounding it. Sandro tells me to come over to the desk as he sorts through some of his paperwork.

"It is not easy running a place like this. Here, let me show you something," he remarks, sounding more like Carver by the minute. Can you tell that I hate this guy yet? "This is how we survive – we trade the crops we grow here for weapons. This you probably know, but I doubt very much that you know how we have little to no attacks around here."

Slightly curious, I look down to the map that he's pointing at. Apparently we're outside some city or town called Monterrey, but what's all this he's got drawn on here?

"What's with the lines?" I ask with hostility, pointing to the various red and blue lines he's got running back and forth between here and some other places in Texas, including (unfortunately for the three of us) Houston.

"Red lines are the trips from Texas to here. They bring us workers and weapons across the border," he explains, pointing to the one that I had travelled from earlier. "The blue one is the trip back to Texas, where we send trucks full of food to the hungry souls who don't know how to sustain themselves. It is quite a prosperous trade-off, actually, since this is now one of the most heavily fortified places around."

Noticing that there is a slip of paper sticking out from underneath the map, I yank it out despite Corvo's protests for me to leave the stuff alone. Sandro allows it, so the watchdog backs down reluctantly.

"That is a list of every man and woman who work at this camp – "

"Slave pen," I correct, shooting him a glare as I see my name near the top of the list. It goes alphabetically by first name, so naturally I'd be near the beginning. "It's a slave pen you're running. You can call it whatever you want, but I know exactly what this is."

"Fair enough. But it's necessary for our community to grow," Sandro tries to justify himself, but failing miserably in my eyes. "This is important to understand, Clementino: give just a few people the power, and you can achieve great things. Order, safety and compliance… you need these in order to keep a place like this running smoothly. But give a lot of people the power, and nothing will get done. Too many ideas clash, fights and arguments break out, and the entire system falls apart. We need a ruler in times like these."

"That doesn't mean that you don't give them a choice! You don't control people's lives!" I tell him bitterly, tossing the papers back onto the desk.

"Without control, people are lost. Do you really think that those people out there… well, besides you and the two you were with… would actually last a day beyond those fences? We provide them with safety from the outside world!"

"People die in here the exact same amount that they would out there. It doesn't make a difference if you treat them this way!" I tell him defiantly, not holding anything back as Sandro chuckles and shakes his head.

"She cannot be reasoned with," Corvo remarks, causing my blood to boil. Who does he think he is, anyway?!

"I'm afraid that I have to disagree with you, my friend," Sandro suggests smugly, "Everyone has their price."

What's his deal here? Why is he acting as if he's about to give me a business proposition, and why is he doing this to a twelve-year old girl of all people? This doesn't make any sense to me at all.

Adjusting my hat so that it fits more snugly on my head, I pause before taking a deep breath and watching as he prepares to talk again. Before he can do any such thing though, I interrupt him.

"What do you want from me?" I ask suspiciously, wanting to get all the answers before saying something that'll come back to bite me in the ass later.

"I know that you're in on these talks of rebellion," he accuses, his face turning serious as he glowers at me. "I told you, Clementino, I'm not stupid. I knew the second you walked into the office that you were different from the other people here. You may not have the size, but you have the initiative; the mentality of a survivor. It wasn't an accident that this started happening soon after you and your friends arrived here. A revolution would decimate our crops and kill us all, regardless of how adaptable you think you are."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"I'm here to make you an offer," he continues, confirming my suspicions as he sits in the office chair; beckoning for me to do the same. When I stubbornly stay where I am, Corvo roughly forces me to sit in the chair with a snarl. Asshole…

"What kind of an offer?" I question, knowing full well that this man isn't in favour of the slaves. "And how do I know that I can trust you?"

That's the question that I ask almost everybody these days.

"I guess you'll just have to take my word for it," Sandro shrugs, cracking his knuckles and folding his hands together on the desk. "Now… shall we begin?"

"Let us go, and we won't kill all of you and burn this place to the ground," I tell him firstly, surprised that he doesn't cut off my fingers for that remark. I'm sure that Corvo wouldn't have a problem with that right now.

Instead, Sandro just rubs his hands through his hair and chuckles.

"That's not happening. If I just let all of my workers go, then I might as well slit my own throat."

"What makes you think someone else won't do that anyway?"

Feeling a hard smack against the back of my head, I cringe as the barrel of the officer's rifle breathes down my neck. Sandro doesn't look amused with me, so I raise my hands in surrender and hope that he's feeling merciful this time around.

"I have come to bargain in good faith, Clementino. All that I ask is for you to do the same," he states calmly, motioning for Corvo to remove the gun away from me. "Enough, my friend. There is no need to rush to needless violence already."

Ha! Look who's talking!

"She is but a child!" Corvo argues, glaring at me intensely as he lowers his aim to the floor. "Too immature, and you cannot reason with a little girl! All you can expect is a shitty attitude!"

"There are no children in this world anymore, Corvo. Not anymore – there's no room for that," he explains wisely, showing me that this man knows what he's doing even if it's just sick and wrong on so many levels. "Now, my young worker, perhaps you should try to be more reasonable?"

Staring at the desk, I consider my options. I can flat out refuse to cooperate with the guy, and try to carry out the plan that we have created so far… but now they'll probably be expecting it. The chances of everyone getting out alive are pretty slim so far.

Or, I could try to bargain my way out of a sticky situation, and maybe make the lives a little bit easier around here for people. It might not set us free, but I would be making a difference at least.

"Maybe you should write this down…" I suggest, to which Sandro simply smirks and grabs a pen out of the cup holder.

…..

"After the bargaining has concluded, it is customary for the people involved to shake hands," Sandro mentions, holding out his hand and awaiting me to do the same. I don't want to shake this monster's hand, but seeing as that I have no choice, I reluctantly stick my hand in his iron-like grip. His hand is cold just like his heart.

Corvo starts escorting me out of the office, which is a relief since I have absolutely no desire to stay in this place any longer. The whole room just seems… bad, and it gives me the chills just by standing here. I hope that I made the right calls with this…

"Clementino?"

Slowly turning around, I see that Sandro is glaring at me fiercely while placing his pistol on the maple-wooden desk.

"If you go back on our agreement, or any person tries to sabotage my operation around here," he snarls, meaning every word as his voice chills me to the bone, "I will chop off both of your friends' heads and make you watch as they bleed out like stuffed pigs. I'm a man of my word."

Gulping, I nod before turning around and walking with Corvo back to the main hall; sighing heavily as we pass the bloody corpse of the man that tried to frame me. That could be one of us if things don't work out the way they're supposed to.

I don't think Sandro was bullshitting about those threats, either.

…..

"Umm… Clem?" Lilly asks as she notices me slouched down against one of the walls. "Do you know anything about this? Why we're all in here instead of the prisons?"

"I convinced Sandro to let us sleep in the community centre instead," I shrug, sounding more quiet and pensive than I usually do. Lilly doesn't seem to notice, but she nods towards Jane as she approaches the two of us. Everyone else seems pretty happy that they aren't having to sleep in those conditions anymore, but they seem more thrilled about the revolution – even though they still think it's going to happen.

"Well, that's pretty good… not that it'll matter after tonight," Jane remarks, her hand still aching somewhat from Sandro's treatment of her. "Finally… we're actually getting out of this hellhole once and for all! This is gonna work, guys, I'm sure of it!"

"Hmph, once we get out of here, I'm deciding where we go next. Got that?" Lilly cracks, nudging Jane on the shoulder as she rolls her eyes in response. "I'd rather not get shipped off to a slave camp again."

"There won't be a rebellion…"

Immediately, Jane and Lilly both look at me with confusion. We'd been planning this for a few weeks now! Why would I back out of it at the last minute?

"Clem, everything's set and ready to go! If you're worried about things not going to plan, then – "

"That's not it," I interrupt Lilly, looking up at her with fear. "Sandro… brought me in to negotiate with him. That's why we're in here and not in the jail cells. It's why he's agreed to give us some better rations and not torture people for no reason. I agreed not to throw a rebellion. I'm sorry…"

"Clem, no offense, but why the fuck would you do that?!" Lilly demands, placing her hands on her hips with anger as even Jane looks a little disappointed. "It doesn't matter what he tells you! The guy's a psychopath, Clementine! He likes to kill people for fun, and you saw what he did to Jane! What part of don't negotiate with evil bastards is so confusing to you?!"

"HE WOULD'VE KILLED US ALL!" I yell, catching the attention of everyone around us. They seem to know what's going on now, and seem pretty pissed off about it. I rub my arm sheepishly under their scrutinizing stares. "I didn't have any choice… Corvo almost killed me just for talking back to him! Do you get that? If I didn't agree to something, then he probably would've shot me as an example to the rest of you!"

"We outnumber them," Jane advises, getting some supportive nods from the rest of the slaves. "If we're careful, then we can take them all out and finally be free from this shit. We don't have to put up with him and his guards anymore."

"They have guns, and we've got fists. What exactly are we supposed to do?" I question, causing her to bite her lip in thought. "Sandro's got a whole whack of people outside on patrol. The second we step outside, they'll start shooting."

"Why are you so afraid of doing anything, Clem?" Lilly asks more calmly; curious as I wipe my eyes from exhaustion. "It's not like you to just give in and surrender."

"I don't want anyone else to die because of me…" I admit sadly, staring at the ground. "I've caused more than enough deaths already."

Tilting my chin up with her right hand, Jane bends down to my height and smirks at me.

"We've all made it this far, and we're all here in one room now, because of you," she acknowledges, getting supportive nods from the rest of the room. "People die no matter what, Clem. It's just a part of life. I'm gonna die, Lilly's gonna die, and eventually everyone here will die. That's just the way it is. But between you and me, I think that I'd rather fight and die for something that I believe in, then sit around and regretting that I ran the other way. Don't you think so?"

Looking around at all of these faces, I realize that maybe I was wrong. Compromise in these circumstances isn't going to get us anywhere. When a ruthless villain like Sandro, Corvo or Papa John tries to take control of your life, that's when you step in and tell them to go to hell. When your chances of making it to see the next sunrise are slim anyways, why not take a chance? Why live in regret for the rest of your life, while you can try to actually make a difference?

Yes… this needs to happen. The plan won't change, even in the direst of circumstances. We need to count on each other in order to give it our all.

"Yeah," I say with more confidence, "let's do it."