The Walking Dead: Emperor of Flames

Season 3/Chapter 2: Nightmares

Y/n Pov.

Our little party enters the bar and it's fairly empty. There's a few people scattered around & the place is actually not that bad. Better than I remember actually. There's a few arcade machines like Phantom Punch and other assorted ones lying around, though they're busted. Clementine and I look over to where Eli, the seller, is sitting which is kind of away from the main part of the bar.

Javier: Jeez. I haven't been in a place like this since... well, you know. It's just like the old days.

Y/n: Yeah, that's cool, but we've got business to attend to.

Clementine: Hang tight.

Javier looks at us, wondering what to do.

Javier: Wait, wait. What should I do?

Clementine: I don't know, why don't you... make some friends?

We walk into the back room and start to ask Eli some questions while Javier looks around the bar. I knock on the wall and he looks up at us.

Y/n: Knock, knock.

Eli: Oh, it's you two.

Clementine gets straight to business and she pulls out the small box of bullets that we traded for from this guy. He looks at it and rolls his eyes.

Eli: What?

Clementine: These bullets we traded you for don't fire. They could've gotten us killed.

The guy looks at the bullets and crosses his arms.

Eli: I don't know what you're talking about.

I take a step forward and swing my bat over my shoulder.

Y/n: Really? Because I think you do. See, I think you traded us bullshit with full knowledge they weren't going to work.

Eli: Whatever. A deal's a deal. Nothing more to say.

He turns away from us and Clementine, frustrated yells at him.

Clementine: Don't turn away from us. We're talking to you.

I hear footsteps and turn to find Javi walking into the back room, where we're at. I guess Clem was a little louder than she needed to be, but I can't blame her. Especially after this asshole is trying to rip us off.

Eli: Hey, what's the point in talking when I already told you, a deal is a deal. And it's done.

Javier: What's going on?

Clementine: This guy ripped us off. We traded him a crate of perfectly good batteries. And he gave us a box of bullets that won't fire!

Y/n: Yeah, he's a con-artist and he could've gotten us killed.

Eli looks at Javier.

Eli: Oh, yeah? And who the fuck are you? Their bodyguard or something? 'Cause I don't scare easy, alright? And I don't respond to threats, neither.

Javier: They don't need a bodyguard. They can take care of themselves. Believe me.

Y/n: Yeah. Fuck you, Eli. You skinhead looking fuck.

Eli: Oh, well, you can't even prove those are the bullets I traded you.

Clem draws her pistol and I see Javi's eyes widen in surprise.

Javier: Whoa, hey, Clem. Come on.

Clementine aims it at Eli.

Clementine: He knows the bullets don't work. Listen to him. He's not even nervous.