My eyes slowly jolted open, revealing a room shrouded in a deep darkness that seemed to pulsate around me. The silence was deafening, as if I was in the center of a hurricane with no one else around. A sense of confusion and unease begun to swell around me, causing my heart to race as I scrambled to find answers to the questions that were screaming my mind. I tried to make sense of my surroundings, trying to understand where I was and what had happened. The more I tried to comprehend my situation, the more confused I felt. All I could see was a bed, a pile of books, a window, and a room which seemed as if it had been forgotten.

I tried to get up, but my body felt heavy, as if the weight of the world was crushing me. Every move I made felt like it took all my energy I had. My limbs were aching, and I felt as if I was in a world of my own. My mind was a haze and all I could focus on was the fear that was rising within me. I dragged myself out of bed and slowly made my way around the room, trying to take in everything. My eyes landed on the tin bucket, the books, the window and the clothes that looked as if they had never been worn. The room itself was a mess, with the floor covered in stains and dirt, and the walls covered in dust and holes. The smell of the room was suffocating, like there was no fresh air to be found. Even the air in the room seemed as if it was filled with thick fog that made it hard to breathe.

I tried to take in a deep breath, but my lungs felt as if they were being crushed. I tried to calm myself down, to focus on the task at hand but all could feel was a sense of dread that was overpowering everything else. I slowly made my way over towards the window, trying to see if there was an escape from the hell that I found myself in. I looked out, but all I saw was the same old world that I knew, the one covered in shadows and darkness, ruled by the dead. I felt as if I was losing my mind and the fear that was building within me was becoming too much to bear. All I wanted was to find a way out, too be able to breath fresh air, to be free. But I knew that wasn't going to be easy. 

I slowly slumped back onto the dilapidated bed that creaked beneath my weight. My hands instinctively reached up to run through my hair, while the fear that had taken a hold of me caused me to break down into a soft sob. The memories of the line up, the sight of Abrahams and Glenn's deaths, and the sound of Maggies desperate screams all came flooding back to me. I realised that this all must be Negan's doing. I was captured at the sanctuary and with the knowledge that I was now a prisoner threatened to overwhelm me completely.

Before I could dwell on the horrors that lay ahead of me, I was startled by a loud knocking at the door. I jumped, then stood up to face the entrance, terrified by the possibility of what or who could be waiting for me on the other side. The thought of what Negan would do to me left my heart racing as I watched the handle squeal open and a man's head peek around the door frame.

I shudder as my eyes traveled over his lanky frame, his worn-down clothes, and the messy shoulder-length blond hair that looked dirty and unwashed. But it wasn't any of that that caused my blood to run cold, it was the horrifying scar that covered the entire left side of his face, as if he had been burned.

"Negan wants to see you now that your awake. Get dressed. I'll be back in five,"

The man rasped before quickly shutting and locking the door again. I trembled and feeling like I had no other choice I quickly threw on the clothes that had been provided for me. I didn't want to imagine what would happen to me if I didn't comply, and so I followed instructions, feeling like I was on the brink of a complete breakdown.

By what feels like an eternity later, the creaky door finally squeaked open once again, revealing that familiar, terrifying face that haunted me. It was the scarred man who stood before me. He reached out and grabbed my arm before tugging me out of the room. His grip on my arm was firm as he forcefully dragged me along the dusty and dingy halls of the building. I desperately tried to gain my balance and keep up with the man's quick pace as we navigated through the maze of corridors. The air was stale and unnaturally quiet, punctuated only by the sound of our feet slapping against the hard concrete. Occasionally, we passed a bucket with a foul odour emanating from it, which caused me to wrench and turn away with disgust. The building felt like a factory, with its long hallway lined with doors and concrete walls, but it had an eerie feeling to it, as if something was hiding in the shadows, just out of sight.

Suddenly, we arrived at a pair of imposing double doors, and my heart practically stopped. I was not ready to face Negan, especially in such a vulnerable and helpless state.

"Go in. He's waiting for you."

The scarred man rasped, avoiding my eyes as he stepped to the side and gave a quick, dismissive wave of his hand. With trembling hands, I reached out towards the handle and pushed the doors open. I stepped into the room, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for what was to come next.

Shutting the door behind me, I was suddenly hit by Negan's raspy, booming voice.

"Well HELL! look who's finally awake!"

He exclaimed, a taunting and crazed look in his eyes as he stared at me. He was sat at the end of a long, wooden table, his feet propped up on the surface as he tossed his beloved baseball bat, Lucille, around in his hands. His grin was toothy and terrifying, as if he were about to pounce on me and rip my throat out with his teeth.

I stood, my eyes fixed on his, a mixture of terror and awe at the overwhelming sense of power and command he radiated. He seemed to bask in the fear he elicited from me, his grin plastered on his face. God! I just wanted to wipe that stupid grin off...

"Well? What are you waiting for? take a damn seat, make yourself at home."

He barked, his voice devoid of any semblance or human compassion. His words were a challenge, and I knew I couldn't refuse, not if I wanted to keep up what little dignity I had left. 

Slowly, I made my way over to the long, wooden table, my legs trembling as I took a seat a few feet away from him. But he seemed to take offence to that and stood up, his tall, imposing figure making me feel even smaller than I already was.

"Well, well, well,"

He smirked; I felt his eyes on me. I whimpered, the sound rising from my throat as he loomed over me. My eyes were fixed on Lucille, he held it with such an affectionate grip, as if it were a cherished pet.

Negan moved in a slow, deliberate manner, almost like a predator stalking his prey, I sat frozen in my chair, my eyes darting between Negan and Lucille, but unable to take my eyes off his terrifying presence. Negan placed Lucille against the wooden table top, leaning it against the side of my chair with a loud clatter. As he moved behind me, I could feel his hot breath on top of my head, his eyes locked onto me as I sat there in fear.

Suddenly, two large hands clamped down on my shoulders. I could feel the warmth of his breath radiating down my neck, his large fingers wrapped around my shoulders as he leaned forwards, his hands squeezing me tightly. I flinched in pain as his fingers dug into my skin, his touch sending nausea through my body but there was another emotion there, one that made my cheeks turn into a light shade of rose pink. 

"You know, when you passed out at the good old' line up, I felt bad. Well, ha, not really but something hit home."

He said, his voice low and regretful but I knew better than to be fooled by his act. Negan's smirk grew as he leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

"Damn, now seeing you up close like this.. just... just hits me in the right place. Get it? Huh? well, it's my dick."

My heart raced as Negan's hands glided over the fabric of my shirt, his rough fingers finding their way to the vulnerable skin of my neck. I felt his hands close around my throat, his grip tight enough to limit my breathing but not tight enough as to choke me. 

"I wouldn't even call you a man yet, what are you Nineteen? Eighteen. Nah, forget the age, that shit went down the drain with the rest of the fucking pissy laws."

I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck as he pulled me close from behind as he spoke, his voice like sandpaper.

"What's your name?"

He asked as his grip on my neck tightened, I could see the flecks of spittle on his lips as he spoke, his eyes never leaving mine. I tried to swallow but my throat was dry and hoarse.

 "p-please. let me-"

My words died on my lips at Negan's sudden movement. He spun my chair around so fast I felt my whole-body jerk, making me feel like I was going to vomit. Before I knew it, he had his gloved hand locked firmly around my jaw, holding me close to him. I groaned as I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong and I could not move. 

"No!"

I heard Negan yell, and before I knew it, his face was just mere inches away from mine. I could see the rage and anger in his eyes, and his whole body radiated with tension and fury. I felt like i was drowning, with the heat coming from his body and the sheer fear force of his grip crushing my head.

"No, you answer to me,"

He bellowed, leaning his face down closer to mine.

"You provide for me, and you belong to me."

I tried to move away, but his grip on my chin was like iron, and I was forced to look at him straight in the eye. I could see the sweat trickling down the side of his face as he stared at me, his mouth stretched into a tight, angry expression. His eyes were wide a bright, and it seemed like he was looking at me like I was a piece of meat.

"I OWN you, and by hell, when I ask you a question, you answer."

"What is your goddamn name?"

His voice was so loud that I didn't even have time to respond. I could feel him tightening his grip on my chin even more, and I thought he was going to snap my jaw off just like that. I was on edge, my whole body shaking and sweating, and I was so afraid that I didn't even know what to do next. The fear grew in my chest like a dark cloud, and my breathing slowed down to a raspy sound. I could feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes as I knew I couldn't hold them in for much longer. Negan was still standing there, his face twisted into an evil smirk. I knew what he was thinking and the thought of it made my skin crawl. 

"m-my name is y/n.."

I managed to stammer out.

"y/n?"

He repeated, dragging out my name in a soft yet menacing tone. I didn't dare move a muscle, terrified of doing anything that might set him off. I had seen what he was capable of and knew any sudden movement would cost my life.

"Yes,"

I whispered, my voice shaking like a leaf.

"that's my name."

Negan's eyes flashed with a dangerous gleam as he stepped closer to me, his breath hot and heavy on my face. He took a deep breath then let it out in a slow, steady stream, like he was savouring the fear in my eyes.

"y/n..."

He said slowly as if he was chewing on my name.

"What a beautiful name. Maybe one day, I'll say that in the bedroom."

I chewed down a nervous gulp as my cheeks turned a faint tint of rosy, pink. No. Stop. I quickly looked away and watched in dread as he reached into his pockets, half-expecting him to pull out a weapon to use against me. But instead, he took out a walkie-talkie and my fears only grew. He barked orders into the device.

"Dwighty-boy! come collect... y/n... from my office and take him back to the cell. NOW."

It seemed like he was playing with me, like I was nothing more than a toy that he could use and discard whenever he pleased. And I knew that the only reason he would be doing this was because he was trying to break me, to make me submissive and obedient. That was what I was. 

 A few minutes later, the same scarred man walked into the office, his head lowered in submission to Negan. He remained kneeling before quickly getting up and walking over to me but before he could grab me, Negan raised his hand, and my heart skipped a beat as he brought it down to the side of my cheek. Slowly, he ran his fingers across my fragile skin, and I shuddered as his thumb brushed over my lip.

"You were such a good boy today."

Negan rasped, his voice low and gravely. Negan's gloved hand slipped into my mouth and i could feel his rough fingers exploring my lips. I tried not to gag as his thumb slid across my lips and slowly found its way into my mouth. 

"I'll be looking forward to more of you."

Negan smirked at me, that same, stupid, toothy smirk. I was relieved when he finally pulled away and his hand fell from my mouth, a strand of saliva separating my lips and his thumb. Negan nodded at Dwight. Before I knew it, Dwight grabbed me by the arm and started to drag me back to my cell. I couldn't believe what had just happened, and I felt like I was in a state of shock. That experience had been so intense I felt like I was going to pass out. But I knew that I had to stay strong, to keep moving forward, even if it meant facing more of Negan's sadistic games.

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THANKS TO EVERYONE READING THIS!! i hope it's good, my god. anyways, I'll get writing on chapter three shortly. I'm hoping you all are liking it so farr!