Author's Note: I honestly didn't think I would make it this far in the story, but thank you to everyone who has supported it along the way! All the favorites, follows, and reviews have really helped me keep this story going. Thanks to any new favorites and follows, as well as the reviews of last chapter: isnotamusedsir, Lila-Renee, ReadWriteLove715, and AlantaPeach(: This is a whole of a crazy Governor and Andrea, so I'm hoping it will keep you on the edge of your seats !
Enjoy xoxo

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.
TORTURED SOUL ASYLUM.

Taylor pulled her hands up, trying to free them from the bindings they were forcefully tied with. Her hands were behind her back, weaved through the open gaps of the old, wooden chair. Her legs were tied to the bottoms as well. She couldn't help but wince as the wrist Cassidy injured began throbbing from the strain. She looked around the room only to realize she was alone, trying her hardest to get free, and causing herself more pain. She was still struggling when the iron door creaked open lazily. Her head shot up, staring into the face of pure evil. He smirked and walked carefully towards her, watching as she contorted herself in a desperate attempt to get away.

"Shhh, calm down now darlin'." He stepped directly in front of her, bending over with his hands on his knees so their eyes were squared.

"Screw you." She spat, grimacing as whatever she was bound with began to shred her skin. Her wrist ached terribly at the trauma all over again. He chuckled before glancing around to see the blood beginning to drip from her wrists.

"It wouldn't hurt so much if you would stop struggling." He stood up and sighed, holding his hand over the spot where her knife had struck him. "No point anyway," his lips turned up into a devilish smirk, "you ain't going anywhere."

Taylor stopped her pitiful writhing and sucked in deep breath, she wasn't as prepared for this as she initially thought. She had no idea if Rick and Michonne had even made it through with the plan, for all she knew, everyone was captured. She looked up now, trying to swallow the lump that grew in her throat, looking back at the patched up wound she had caused him.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Oh dear," he laughed again, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "I had so many plans for you, but Andrea nixed them."

"What?" She couldn't stop the shocked gasp that escaped her. Andrea? That was the blonde she saw before! She had thought it was her, but how? Daryl had said she died at the farm- no... he said they lost her. Oh god, this cannot be good.

"Don't look so surprised dear. I never said it was a good thing. She had something much better planned than me." He looked over at her when she sighed with defeat. If only he knew that wasn't why she was surprised, of course Andrea wasn't going to help her. His grin widened as he took her knife out, wiping the blade clean and pacing the room.

"You see, I wanted to physically torture you, so to speak... but Andrea said you've dealt with worse, and it probably wouldn't be much of an impact." He continued his feverish pacing across the room as he spoke. "So then I thought, maybe I could do some other form of physical torture," he let his eyes skate over her body before sighing indignantly, "but that wouldn't do either. I couldn't betray Andrea like that."

"I heard you already have," she whispered, clamping her mouth shut after. Where did that random courage come from? She was the one tied to a chair weaponless, not exactly a prime back-talking time.

"Oh," he let out a humorless chuckle, "Michonne? Not worth it."

"She got your eye?" Taylor smirked, still internally battling herself to the shut the hell up.

"Yes," he sneered, coming closer to her and holding the knife at her throat, his sadistic grin never leaving, "and you stabbed me. What kind of stupid bitch-"

"Phillip," Andrea cooed as she waltzed in, shutting the door quickly behind her. He stood up straight, walking over to her and swiftly planting a kiss on her lips. "I hope you didn't do anything while I was gone," she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Of course not, I was saving it all for you." Taylor's heart began to ram against her ribcage as it was beating in an out of rhythm, crazy pattern. She felt her mouth and throat go dry and Andrea took the gun from the Governor (or Phillips?) holster. She took her own out and held one in each hand, turning on her heels to give a sickly sweet, fake smile at Taylor.

"Andrea?" Her face coming into view was all the proof she needed, it was in fact, the very same Andrea. And she was alive. "But they said... you were-"

"Dead?" She practically shouted. "Yeah, those assholes left me for dead at the farm. But of course they took precious YOU. The half-dead girl, waiting to turn and eat their limbs," she sneered, the malevolence clear in her voice. "I'm surprised you're alive, quite frankly." She left a long pause for Taylor to sit and wonder how this was even happening. Suddenly, she spoke again, "has Phillip finished explaining what we have in store for you?" She titled her head to the side with a mock puppy dog pout. Taylor pushed herself against the back of the chair attempting to get away from Andrea and her freak boyfriend.

Taylor simply shook her head slowly, the fear finally beginning to truly settle in, making her throat constrict and unable to speak. If Rick and Michonne were going to save her, would they have waited this long?

"I decided on a little bit of mental play," she stated while twirling one of the guns on her finger. "What's that, you ask? Let me elaborate... instead of cutting you up, or shooting you, or anything fun like that, I decided to fuck with your mind."

"What?" She felt the fear intensify, what the hell did that mean? Her mind raced with all the possibilities that were open to them.

"Have you ever met someone that you just despised, for no reason at all?" Yeah, you, Taylor thought bitterly to herself, but bit back the urge to actually speak the words. She simply shrugged, letting Andrea continue. "Well, that's how I've always felt about you. I've dreamed of the day when I got to take you out. But now I realize, this is a much better plan. You're going to have to decide something for me."

The Governor stood in the background, leaning against the wall with the same creepy, smiling face that he'd worn since she knew him. Andrea sauntered over to the door, opening it a crack to call out to the guards.

"Bring number one in." She called, spinning around and pulling the door open dramatically. "Let us meet contestant numberrrrr one!" She laughed to herself before taking the prisoner out of his hands. Andrea walked them over, kicking behind their knees so they dropped to the floor, sitting execution style. There was a burlap bag over their head, making it hard to tell who it was in the dim light, but Taylor knew. She felt her blood run cold as The Governor ripped the bag off.

"Awwhhh," Andrea mock cooed, bending over and taking Maggie's face in her hands. The brunette jerked back trying to avoid her hands, but she had a gun at her hand and was in no position to put up a fight. "So, first we have your lovely cousin Maggie." Andrea's bitter-sweet voice flowed through the air, smacking Taylor in the face. Now she knew what they were playing at, they weren't going to hurt her, they were going to make her watch them hurt Maggie... but Andrea had said number one?

"Now, you can choose to save her, or sacrifice her for..." she ran back over to the door, her excitement over this twisted, sick game made Taylor feel like she was going to vomit. She glanced over to Maggie who had her head hung low, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on her. The blonde looked back over to where Andrea was dragging someone else in. "Or you can sacrifice her to save," she threw back her head and laughed as she tore the bag from his head, "your wonderful savior."

Taylor looked away, unable to watch this disturbing display of insanity. It was just a game to 'Phillip' and Andrea, they didn't care about any of their lives, they would gladly kill them all... she began to wonder if they were going to.

"Go fuck yourself, Andrea," he smirked, knowing she was going to get pissed off. She scoffed and before she could react, Phillip socked him in the face, hard. Daryl fell to the floor, his hands still tied behind his back to prevent him from doing anything else. Maggie's hands were freed, mostly because none of them thought she could do any real damage. Taylor hoped she would be able to prove them wrong at some point, hopefully before any of this got any more out of control.

"I suppose you'll keep your mouth shut from now on?" The Governor squatted near Daryl as he rolled over and spit blood onto the cement below them.

"You can fuck yourself too," he coughed up some more blood before the Governor clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, sighing and standing up. He kicked his in the ribs, more times than she could count, and Maggie began sobbing. Taylor had finally seen enough of this.

"STOP!" She shouted, her wrists starting to sting with numbness as she fought against the restraints again.

"Stop?" The Governor panted, backing up and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He let one foot fall in front of the other, taking delicate steps in her direction until he was in her face again; she quickly averted her eyes from him, turning her whole head away. "But we haven't even gotten to the fun part yet. Look at me darlin'." He put his hand on her face, cupping it and turning her to face him.

"Don't... touch... her," the Governor was amused by this, snorting at the injured man's hollow threatening tone. Taylor could hear Daryl's wheezing as he attempted to try and breathe normally again. The Governor had kicked him so many times, so hard, that he felt his chest and stomach bruising. His lungs burned as he spoke each word, but seeing the bastards hands on her ignited a new fire in him. Taylor watched in agony as a fresh set of bloody coughing set in, a large puddle forming beneath him.

"No, I'm sorry I'm finding it really hard to look at you because I want to bash your goddamn face in!" She leaned forward and spit in his face, a decision she would regret. The Governor smirked and wiped the saliva from his face. He pulled out her knife a second time, and slashed her across the cheek. As he retracted his hand for another go, Andrea stopped him.

"Phillip," she spoke evenly, bringing both his and Taylor's attention to her. She turned to the younger blonde, eyes locking on hers. "I would stop if I were you." Taylor could hear the click of a gun, she watched her pull Maggie to her feet. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying, her wrists, her cheek, everything throbbed in sheer agony.

"Stay," she commanded.

"If you tell us which one to kill, nothing else needs to happen. All of this could stop now."

"I don't want you to kill anyone!" She was seething now, watching Andrea point the gun at her cousin. Andrea shot the gun, the bullet piercing Maggie's left arm, she screamed out in agony, falling to the floor and gripping her arm tightly.

"PLEASE, STOP!" Taylor's face was streaked with tears now, both her and Maggie's sobbing echoing through the room. She shook so hard the chair began to rock, the Governor nodding to Andrea to run over and hold her still.

Andrea bent down to whisper in her ear, "now watch what we're going to do to lover-boy." Taylor tried to look away, outright terror taking her whole body over. She could only imagine what they were going to do to Daryl, and she was helpless to save him. The Governor busied himself with more brunt kicks to his entire body, all the while a guard came into the room, the familiar raw growl flooding everyone's ears.

"No," she whispered, watching the guard bring a chained-up walker into the room. It's arms cut off, but teeth still in tact. The Governor picked up Daryl's bruised body and held him in place, his gun directly at his temple. Martinez fought for control with the walker, inching it closer to where the two men were standing. Taylor turned her head the opposite direction, unable to watch the gut-wrenching scene before her.

"You'll enjoy this, I promise," Andrea stood behind her and turned her head towards the walker. Maggie was still on the floor, squeezing the wound with one hand, fighting herself to not faint from blood loss. Daryl couldn't move, he had a gun to his head and a hungry biter making its way to him, a shrill moan coming from its decayed mouth. Taylor saw the horror on Maggie's face, could feel it on her own, but saw nothing on Daryl's. He stood emotionless, knowing there was no way out. She couldn't bare the thought of him dying, or of him becoming one of them.

"JUST KILL ME!" She finally shouted out, making the whole room go silent. Martinez halted in his tracks, forcing the walker to stop with him. The Governor's devious grin returned, Andrea giggled uncontrollably. They were obviously breaking her. The two malevolent beings exchanged a poisonous glance. "Jesus Andrea, this is between us," she whispered between strangled breaths from crying.

"No. Your time is up though," she left her post near Taylor and walked back over. Phillip forced Daryl back to his knees, as Andrea did the same for Maggie. She took both guns out, aiming one at Maggie's head and one at Daryl's. "No more distractions. Pick one, now."

"Please," Taylor pleaded, forcing her eyes to her own lap to avoid looking at the faces of those she loved most in this apocalyptic world. "Just please..."

"Tick tock Taylor," Andrea's wicked voice brought her attention back to the matter at hand. She slowly lifted her head, glancing between Daryl and Maggie, both had their eyes shut tightly. Daryl's eyes opened and he gave her a nod, a nod that said, 'save Maggie'. He peered over at Maggie as the tears flowed down her cheeks in a steady rhythm. But Taylor couldn't do it, she didn't have it in her heart to choose either of them, just herself, and for whatever reason, Andrea refused to accept that. She cocked both of the guns, the sound making Taylor flinch. The sound wasn't nearly as dramatic or loud as it is portrayed in movies, but it was enough to get her mouth moving again.

"I choose..." She inhaled deeply, she felt herself on the verge of spilling a name, what name she wasn't sure, just that there was a name on the tip of her tongue Before she could continue the room filled with a gray smoke. The sound of a smoke bomb hissing as the murky mist poured out into the room, making it hazy. Taylor let out a sigh of relief, though she wasn't saved, none of them were, it was a distraction at the least. She tried to squint to see through the room when she heard gunshots begin to ring through her ears.

"What the-" she felt a bullet whiz past her head, but she had been pulled out of the way. The wooden chair came crashing against the cement with a sickening thud, and it splintered into a million pieces. Taylor couldn't even figure out what was happening as she was pulled to her feet. She gave one last glance as she watched the walker get loose and corner Andrea. She couldn't see Maggie or Daryl and didn't have enough time to finish checking.

"Come on girly," the raspy southern accent flooded her ears and she shook her head quickly, motioning with her to her back. Her hands were still tied and she couldn't do a whole lot of anything. "Jesus, turn 'round!" He barked at her, making her spin around quickly. She felt his one hand on her shoulder as the other cut through the rope with ease.

"Merle?" She finally breathed as he began to lead her out of the hallway. She almost tripped over the two dead guards as she followed behind him. She shouted up to him when she realized there were a few people missing. "Where's Rick and Michonne? Claire?!"

They rounded a few corners until they were outside, Merle began shooting left and right when it dawned on Taylor that they were surrounded by walkers. Where had they all come from?

Merle shoved the gun he was using into her hand and pulled out another one. She helped him shoot one walker down after another, but they seemed to be endless. He continued to weave in and out of the alleys until they stopped to catch a quick breathe. Taylor was doubled over trying to fill her lungs again when he looked over at her.

"Claire found tha Governor's stash a' biters. She let 'em loose, said she'd meet us later." Merle found himself panting from their long run and having to fight off so many walkers.

"Where's everyone else?" Taylor pulled him off the wall and feverishly searched through the bag that was strapped to his back. She found the knife at the bottom and pulled it out, unsheathing it with a smile. She grabbed another small gun out since hers was completely drained of ammo.

"Don't know. Ya told everyone ta meet at tha prison though..." he watched her closely as she ran her hand through her blonde locks, she was obviously upset about losing everyone. "Let's juss go back, I'm sure they'll all be there." He was trying to comfort her and didn't even know why, it wasn't like they ever got along. He knew he had only saved her from Cassidy, and the Governor, for his baby brother. He was never told that there was anything between them, but he was no fool. He knew his brother like the back of his hand and he'd never seen him so protective over a girl before. Merle knew it was now his job to protect her, whether he thought she was a pain in the ass or not.

"Lemme see," he reached forward, letting his thumb hover over her cut cheek. "Ya need to clean that up-"

"Going somewhere?" Both Merle and Taylor whipped around at the sound of the maniacal laugh that followed the question. "Stay for awhile, we're not done playing."

"Stay back!" Taylor lifted her gun with both hands, having his head in direct sight.

"Merle," the Governor sounded hurt for a moment, "you're leaving us? For your brother and his whore?"

"Whore?!" Merle grabbed Taylor by the back of her shirt. He couldn't see any weapons on the Governor but he knew he had them somewhere. He was a clever, fiendish son-of-a-bitch, and it was clear he wanted Taylor dead. Merle knew he was setting her up for a trap.

"Less go liddle blondie." Merle warned, tugging on her shirt, causing her to take two clumsy steps back.

"Awh, stay! For the festivities!" Phillip took a single step forward before falling to the pavement with a deafening thud. The gunshot ran through the alleyway, Taylor had to shake her head to stop the ringing in her ears. She looked over at Merle who frowned as he lowered his gun. There. He had saved her, again. Daryl owed him big time.

"Keep up liddle blondie!" As they wandered through the woods that lay just outside Woodbury, Taylor was trying to keep from having a breakdown. She was desperately trying to convince herself that everyone was okay and they would all be back at the prison. As the thoughts protruded her mind of Daryl or Maggie, Rick, any of them dead, she felt anger bubble up inside her. Merle's constant nagging of 'keep up', 'you are too slow', and 'liddle blondie' made it even worse.

"Great," she swatted a branch out of her face, glaring at Merle as he continued to smirk at her, "now I'm stuck with just you."

"So what's tha problem?" He beamed her a grin, but it instantly fell when he saw the scowl on her face.

"The problem is, it's just us... the whole way back to the prison. It's not a short walk either." She let her eyes fall to the barren ground below her, squeezing them shut for just a moment to keep the tears at bay. "And I have a name."

"Ya ain't no picnic either there sunshine." He rolled his eyes when he noticed her frown deepen. "So, yer still mad at ole Merle, huh? Listen, Taylor," he emphasized her name to show he was, in fact, listening to her. "I think we started off on tha wrong foot-"

"If by the wrong foot you mean my first day at camp you took one look at me and said, and I quote, where the hell did you find this dirty skank?" Merle found himself frowning at the memory, he really hadn't given her even the slightest chance, then again, he never gave anyone a chance.

"Awe, come on... I didn't... I didn't know what ya'd gone through 'til later, when Daryl tol' me. I'm juss a natural asshole, I can't help it. Sorry for that though, t'was messed up." He gave her a delicate smile, it was the first time in a long time that he was being sincere. Probably the first time in over a decade that he'd said sorry; even longer since he'd said it and actually meant it. He'd come to discover that she wasn't that bad, a bit overdramatic for his taste, but hell that was all women.

"Sorry doesn't take back how I felt." She blinked back the tears, just wishing all this hell was over with and they were back at the prison.

"Look I'm apologizin', I don't do it often, never really... but I'm trynna reconcile." He stopped walking and waited a few beats for her to catch up to him, he even held a branch out of her way as she passed him.

"Why?" She looked over her shoulder, giving him a skeptical glance.

"'Cause of muh baby brother." He watched her closely as an uncomfortable silence hung over them, and they'd walked half a mile through the thick forest. He let her walk ahead of him after she had argued with him earlier that she was never allowed to be in the lead or in charge. And hell, he was in a pretty good mood so he just let her; he figured he might as well rack up some brownie points while he had the chance. He had no idea what had taken over him to want them to get along so bad, but he didn't really bother with the thought that long.

He studied her closer for a few moments, instantly noticing the pouty face she was wearing, the same one she probably used on the entire male species, his brother most likely getting the brunt of it. He cleared his throat loudly before speaking.

"I get it, ya know."

"Get what?" She shot back, still mad at him for... for what? For being nice to her? She didn't even know why she was angry at this point, but she couldn't shake her annoyance.

"Why baby brother likes ya. I mean, Dixon boys, we don't do love n' all that bullshit... but I get why he's hung up on ya." Her eyebrows arched at this, prodding him to continue. He could tell her interest was piqued by his words. "Yer not his type, by any means," he chuckled and she glared at him, making him fake cough to cover it. "It confuses me."

"What?" She found herself being baited by him, being dragged into the conversation, hook, line, and sinker. She didn't even care.

"'Sides that rack n' ass, maybe tha hair, he did always favor tha blondes at tha strip club- ow!" She socked him in the shoulder and he rubbed it softly, she could throw a mean punch, he would give her that. Merle's lips tugged into an arrogant smirk, "sorry, jellypuss. Anyway... other than that, yer far off base. Little miss princess ain't Daryl's thang."

"Gee thanks," she rolled her eyes before stalking off. Her interest in the subject quickly faded with the images of Daryl sticking money down other girls underwear. Not to mention the insults, they didn't help much either.

"Hey!" He jogged to keep up with her, walking at the same pace as she attempted to storm off. "I'm trynna figure thangs out here. Like I said, I get it. I don't do this often, n' if anyone asks I'll deny it, but yer beautiful as hell."

"Jesus Merle, you know how to make a girl's heart flutter," she replied sarcastically, with a touch of eye roll. She fanned herself with her hand and pushed him away gently. "I was under the impression hell wasn't beautiful."

"These are muh compliments sweetheart, take 'em or leave 'em." Merle grinned widely at her.

"You are just like your brother," she muttered, ducking under a low hanging branch.

"Hey now! I'm older... he's juss like me." She slowed her pace, actually allowing him to walk next to her, finally warming up to him. Merle Dixon may be an admitted asshole, but he wasn't so bad. Or maybe it was that damn Dixon charm, the one she knew had her wrapped around Daryl's finger. She couldn't be sure, but just as she thought they were getting along he lightly shoved her forwards.

"Get on liddle blondie! Yer suckin' up all muh oxygen!" Taylor rolled her eyes and trampled in the direction of the road they were nearing.

"So much for getting along," she mumbled under her breath. Merle smiled to himself, he couldn't be nice to her forever, he had a reputation to keep up, after all. He wouldn't allow anyone to think of him as a softy, and in his eyes, too much kindness made people think they could walk all over you. As she angrily made her way to the road he just laughed to himself, he would try to cheer her up later... much later.

"We shouldn't travel on the road," Merle called out to her, she was too far ahead for him to drag her away or he would have, he didn't mind using his physical prowess when necessary; and if she kept walking on the road and ignoring him, it was going to be necessary. He used his two fingers to use the high-pitched whistle people normally used to call dogs. Knowing that he was treating her like an animal she huffed and continued to march on, mumbling to herself as she went.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled to her, "YO! BLONDIE!" She finally came to a complete halt, whipping around to face him with an angry glower.

"What?" She folded her arms over her chest, the daggers she was sending him almost feeling as if they were actually scarring him. He shook his head at her and closed the gap between them.

"We need ta stay off tha road." She looked over his shoulder and saw all the cars lined up along the side of it, then it clicked. If they were on the road near Woodbury, the Governor's people, more than likely Andrea, if she was still alive, would be able to easily track them.

"Yeah... right..." she was about to step back into the woods when a voice made her stop, a voice that brought and instant smile to her face. Both Taylor and Merle turned to their left and spotted Rick and Michonne coming towards them.

"Rick!" She beamed, running up and slamming into him for a hug. He gripped her tightly, relieved to see she was still alive. She smiled at Michonne over his shoulder, the normally angry façade wiping off her face for just a moment to smile back at the excited blonde.

"I'm glad you're safe." Rick whispered, hugging her to him once more. His eyes scaled up to Merle, giving him an appreciative nod for keeping her alive. As much as he loved Taylor, he knew she would never have been able to survive by herself, it had to have been Merle's handiwork.

"You too," she smiled up at him, the moment melting them into a bubble that brought back memories from the past. She gulped hard and stepped back away from his reach when she felt Michonne and Merle's eyes on them. Merle raised a single eyebrow, wondering when Taylor and Officer Friendly had gotten so close.

Michonne shrugged carelessly and started to make her way back into the woods with the other three trailing behind her. They were on their way back to the prison, they were missing three people, but all they could do was hope that they would show up at the prison as well. Rick was wondering about Claire, Merle about Daryl, and Taylor about Maggie along with the former two. She felt as if she had a lot more worries weighing her down than the others. Too many people to worry about, too many thoughts of death crawling through her head.

"Have ya seen 'em?" Merle's thick drawl brought her out of the deep concentration she was trapped in. Rick shook his head sadly, knowing how much the next words would hurt both him and Taylor.

"We uh, we saw Daryl going at it with a few guards..." Taylor attempted to ignore his words, pretending that she didn't hear them. Pretending that he wasn't as good as dead.

"Maggie?"

"Didn't see her at all," Michonne said quietly from ahead of them. Taylor let out a frustrated sigh, letting herself trail enough to be in the back of the group. She couldn't help the images of Daryl and Maggie turning flash before her eyes. She felt like she had been punched straight in the gut, the air draining from her lungs. She held onto a tree for support, counting the seconds as they went by. All the voices swirled around her and the air seemed to thin, almost becoming nonexistent. She heard a snarl from behind her and a hand wrap around her shoulder. She spun around and let out a horrified scream. She backed up, falling to the dirty ground below her, and fumbled to find the knife she had reattached to her boot. The walker fell on top of her, grabbing at the delicious flesh it craved. Just as her hand wrapped around the knife the walker fell beside her, limp and lifeless a second time. Taylor began to inhale and exhale quickly, not believing what she thought she saw. She kicked the corpse away and sat up, tears forming in her eyes.

She found that when confronted with the fact that what she was seeing, was indeed real, all she could do was cry. The image before her was not a dream, and she sobbed for what seemed like an eternity.