Author's Note: Hello, reader. I am now going to subject you to my personal life; my house was on fire during the writing of this chapter. Or at least during the second half of it. I was home at the time and I managed to deal with it. Just a weird electrical fire that almost got out of hand. After a while, I returned to my writing; which is very coincidental, given the events in my other story.
I haven't revised and edited this story yet; been very depressed lately, and having trouble sleeping, the problem I've been having isn't even practical, it's just in my head. Pretty lame, I know.
As an interesting side note: Some other Authors will be writing their own version of this scenario. They asked me before they went ahead with it, and they didn't have to do that, so they've got my respect for that. I mean, I think they had the idea before me and want to make sure there's no confusion and all. So be sure to check out that other story when it comes out.
Clementine sat, tied in a wooden chair that creaked every so often, in her green pajamas, bag over her head, her wrists felt like sandpaper after being bound with thick rope for so long. Time. How long has been in here? Most likely an hour at best. She turned her head left and right, and stretched her back, almost completely unable to move. She was shaking, trembling. The sound of several footsteps nearing her from the North-east of where she was facing became audible. She could feel the vibrations of their footsteps through her chair. After a moment, the footsteps sounded as if they were all around her before growing silent. She sat, petrified with fear. She had her enemies in this place but, they were all locked in the pen. Who were these people? A hand gripped the top of her hair, violently tugging before the bag was quickly pulled off of her head; she could feel strands of her hair tear off. Her eyes slightly watered from the pain from this. She opened her eyes to see four figures wearing black ski-masks and black outfits, each man with a bigger body-type than the last. The closest, mid-height, mid-weighted man bent down in front of her and looked into her eyes. She realized she was in the construction room where the walkers attacked her, Mike, and Kenny days before. In the room where her leg got caught on the wiring.
"Clementine. Listen. We just want the truth." The man told her before briefly turning to face the largest man in the room, "Start the Camera, Y"
"Sure..." The man said, his tone lazy sounding.
He opened a black Camera lens that was on a tri-stand. It beeped as a red light began steadily flickering, indicating that it was recording.
The first man turned back to face her after he received a thumbs up from the man with the Camera. "Now... What happened with Becca?" He asked calmly, getting down to her level and gently removing the grey tape from her mouth.
She stared at the Camera, then back to the man staring at her intently. "She was killed... by Bonnie..." Clementine answered, her voice trembling.
The man in front of her sighed and bowed his head.
"What are we gon' do now, Vin-uh... James?" The smallest man asked, his voice high and awkward sounding.
The man referred to as, 'James' turned violently towards the smaller man, "We get our answers!" He barked.
The forth man, among the tallest of the bunch kept watch by the door and motioned with his hand for this James person to keep it down. He calmed down, exhaling and turned back to Clementine who looked up at him fearfully. She was actually scared now that she knows she's overpowered and defenseless. She wanted to scream for help but, what would these men do if she decided to take that course of action? Before she could speak, the tape was placed over her mouth yet again.
"What're you doing, man?" The larger, 'Y' man questioned.
"Getting answers..."
"Don't do anything drastic, we can weed it out of her eventually, just calm down." Y suggested.
The man stared her straight in the eyes before pulling a knife from his side. Clementine felt a chill run up her back at the sight of his large stainless-steel knife with a black handle. He reached behind her back and cut her hands free before backing away by one foot. She rested her hands in between her thighs, trying not to make herself appear as if she were attempting an escape. The man quickly darted down and gripped her wrist tightly and brought her arm up above her head. She grabbed at his arm, trying to fight him off to no avail.
"What the hell are you doing?!" The smallest man demanded, lunging forward.
"Stay back, Ru- Just... stay back." James told him.
The man stopped and backed away before turning away, afraid of what will happen next.
James took a hold of Clementine's pinkie and began slowly forcing it backwards.
Her eyes widened and she began rapidly patting the man's arm and shaking her head left and right, nearly sobbing through the tape.
"Nod if you did it..." James told her.
If she said yes on that tape, did it mean she was guilty? She stared at the Camera, unsure what to do. She didn't respond.
Crack. Her pinkie was snapped back painfully. He let her go. She held her hand in extreme agony, trying to scream out as tears engulfed her face. Her body trembled violently. She watched her newly disfigured finger begin to turn purple. She let go of her arm and used her unscathed left hand to try to tear off the tape from her mouth. James gripped her hand and took a hold of her other pinkie.
"Oh my god... what the fuck is wrong with you?" The large, 'Y' man said, clearly disturbed.
James ignored him before breaking her other pinkie with a loud snap. With that Clementine jolted from the intensity of the pain and fell sideways in her chair, hitting the ground hard. Her hands close to her chest, shaking and purple. She tried for the tape again while on the floor only to be met with a dark shoe on her arm, forcing it down against the dirty floor, pressing on her pinkies. She shook and groaned out in pain as she laid on the floor; broken and defenseless.
"What happened with Becca? Did you kill her?" James demanded.
What if they decided to kill her? When they got their answers? Without Carver's Okay? She wasn't ready to take that chance. She had to hold out against their tortures for as long as she could to survive. Clementine shook her head, indicating yet another, 'no'. This frustrated James, he forced her back up and took a hold of her index finger.
"You've got ten fingers. This isn't even the worst thing I can do to you. Give it up already." James persisted.
Clementine shook her head violently, side-to-side, not wanting to look at him. She was losing it. Tears kept coming as she sat there, breathing hard and shaking harder. She felt yet another finger snap, then her middle one, and eventually her ring finger. Four fingers on her right hand now purple and arched backwards. She didn't know if she could take anymore, she felt herself slipping out of consciousness from the intensity of the pain.
"Hey... stay with me, okay?" This James man told her, slapping her in an attempt to keep her awake.
She didn't respond, instead she let herself drift off into unconsciousness.
"Fuck... Vince, the trauma must have gotten to her..."
She heard the name, 'Vince'. She won't forget it, hopefully. She saw black emptiness.
"Clementine..." She heard Lee call to her.
"Lee?" She answered back, nothing conceivable.
"...Don't be afraid..." He told her.
"I'm scared, Lee. " She admitted.
"What can I tell you to make it better?"
"That you won't leave. Please... don't leave me... I can't do this on my own."
"You're strong, Clem. You can do anything."
"No, not alone, not without you."
"Clem, it's time to go, now."
Suddenly Clementine snapped up, and eyed her surroundings. She was cut free and left on the floor beside the chair. The Camera and the men were all gone. Her five fingers swollen and ugly. She laid, curled up in a ball in her green pajamas. She began crying yet again as she slowly sat up and looked at her hands. She decided, she has to go and tell someone. She got to her feet and slowly began making her way out of this construction site and towards the exit. She kept her hands close to her chest as she made her way to the door. She used her elbow to slightly edge open the wooden door and peak outside; she could see a few walkers outside in the distance, out in the parking lot, none close to the settlement. She pushed the door completely open and ran bare-foot outside and towards the door where she dumped Becca before. A grey, bald walker wearing a purple and white jacket with jeans several meters away noticed her running and began shuffling towards her. She saw and quickly began beating on the metal door with her right heel.
"HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" She screamed as she beat on the door, kicking it furiously; no concern for self injury.
The walker inched ever closer, "...Raaauuugghhh..."
Clementine backed away from the metal door and began backing off from the incoming walker. Suddenly a gunshot was fired. The walker's head almost exploded before it fell down to the earth. She looked up to see Tavia on the roof holding an AK-47, a large assault rifle.
"Stay right there! Someone's coming to get the door!" The large woman called down to her.
Clementine nodded and began scanning the lot, waiting to be rescued.
Later that day...
Bill had left with several other survivors early in the morning for some kind of run for supplies. Word of their return had only just reached Clementine minutes ago. She sat in his office chair with Carlos beside her, working to carefully straighten each finger. She cringed and winced from the pain as she pulled her hand away each time he tried.
"Clementine, you have to stay still, so that I can work." Carlos reasoned, or rather barked.
"It... hurts!" She complained, still in deep physical and emotional trauma.
Her delusion of being invincible and god-like had vanished after being hauled off and tortured late into the night, then dumped like some sort of petty garbage. Her self-esteem, personal dignity, and happiness were all robbed from her within just a few short hours.
"I know. I've been in your shoes... see?" Carlos told her, showing his now bandaged and pinned straight fingers. "If you let me work on them, they should be fine in a couple of weeks at best. But, they'll never be exactly the same as they were before."
She nodded and surrendered, giving out her hand to him once more. He laid her palm down flat and slowly began straightening each finger. She winced from all the pain she was experiencing. Carlos eyes her arm bandage,
"How're those stitches holding up? Hopefully we won't need to redo them."
"They're okay..." She answered quietly, not in much of a mood to speak.
"Something on your mind other than your fingers?" The doctor inquired.
"I thought you hated me..."
"Well, one, this is my job now so hating people doesn't mean I can deny someone medical assistance. And... you stuck up for my daughter before. You've made mistakes but, I know you still care about Sarah. I hope you'll be able to come back from your mistakes and realize that Carver is-"
"Is what? Carlos?" Bill asked as he made his way into the room, even slightly startling Clementine.
Bill stood over the doctor as he worked on Clementine's hands. Carlos didn't respond, he simply kept working, a frown embedded on his face as he refused to look up at the man. Bill scoffed and turned to look at a depressed Clementine.
"What happened? Did you see who did this to you? What did they want?" He demanded, standing, and staring, waiting for a response.
"...They thought that I was the one who killed Becca... They tried to get me to confess..." The girl answered, or rather cried.
Carver turned away from her and stared out into the warehouse through the glass. He crossed his arms and sighed, "Why didn't you?"
Clementine's eyes snapped open, slightly taken back by this question; was he suspecting her now? "Because... I didn't do it..."
"So? What good is a confession if it's forced outta ya?" He questioned.
"I thought they'd kill me or something..."
Carver scratched his chin and turned to face her. "What did they look like? Did any of them mention their names?"
"There were three... or four? One was called... 'Y' he was kinda big. Another called, 'James' but, When they thought I was asleep, they called him, 'Vince'." She told him.
His expression slowly changed, his eyebrows narrowed and he glared off away from her before storming out of the room. "That son of a bitch!"
Clementine instantly let out a smile; did he know who this, 'Vince' man was? Was he going to receive his retribution? She turned back to the doctor.
"You're all set, be careful and take it easy for a couple of weeks." He told her, patting her on the shoulder.
She nodded and stood before running to the door and quickly sticking her feet into her sneakers and making her way down the stairs, into the warehouse. She scanned the area of people moving boxes or simply loitering throughout the building. She searched eagerly, not wanting to miss what happens next. She eventually spotted Bill over by the door leading into the outer stock room. He was in front of the man Shel was with when she found her sister. His name escaped her but, it could have been this Vince person. She ran up to them and stood beside Bill as he edged closer to the man, clearly enraged.
"Bill! I didn't do anything! Where is all this coming from?" He defended, raising his hands, indicating he didn't want negativity directed towards him.
Several others began gathering to watch.
Clementine glared. Vince noticed but kept fixed on his enraged superior. She was sure this was him, she can't forget his voice, or his hands.
"Why would I harm a child? What could I possibly gain from that!?" He continued to lie.
The one thing her and Vince had in common, was their ability to deceive. It was easier for her, she is a young girl after-all.
"'Why?'" Bill repeated. "Why would you kill a man in cold blood? To help your brother with his debt, right? Seems to me that, you act out when the people you care about are hurt or need you. A noble course of action, so long as you know where to point your anger."
Vince stared at Bill, clearly frustrated. Not at all afraid.
"You think she somehow managed to kill Becca. You just can't accept that your friend, Bonnie is a murderer. So you took your anger out on poor Clementine here." Bill scolded.
"You have absolutely no evidence to back your claim! So, just back off of me!" Vince snapped, almost growling swinging his arms down in frustration.
"It's apparent to everyone that you're clearly broken. It was a bad thing that happened to Becca." Bill inferred, glaring and confident that this was his man.
"'Bad things happen to everyone, and it's hard to keep being yourself when they do...'" Clementine added, stepping forward, a mere four feet from a man breaking her fingers just hours ago.
Vince scowled at her. He clenched his fists.
There was a connection between this particular group of people. She didn't know how. She'd need to learn who's connected to who in order to preserve her safety.
Bill pulled out his revolver, "We're taking you in-"
Suddenly, Vince lunged and grabbed Clementine and pulled out a nine-millimeter pistol and pushed the nuzzle up against her right temple.
"Everyone just back the FUCK OFF! I'll SHOOT HER! I mean it!" He threatened.
Everyone watched in shock as he man handled the young girl with a dangerous weapon pointed at her. Clementine felt her hair being yanked on as she was forced to slowly back away with her former torturer.
"I should never have let you and the others stay here, you all are tearing each-other apart, and want to bring us down with you!" Bill lashed out.
Clementine was nervous, how many times was she going to be in this situation? This man has a history of irrational murder, and he just broke five of her fingers because she wouldn't answer a question the way he desired. What if he lost it and pulled the trigger?
"Vince! Vince, stop this!" A woman pleaded.
Everyone turned to the voice.
"Let her go!" Shel demanded.
Author's Note: Do you guys think, in the regular Walking Dead game universe that, Carver actually did influence Clementine?
"If people don't trust you, how can you trust them?" -William Carver to Clementine about the cabin group.
"I don't trust her, she doesn't trust us." -Clementine to Luke about Jane.