Imagines // Daryl Dixon

woodbury

A single beaming globe illuminated the small room, highlighting the corrugated walls, the light dropping into shadows under each rivet. Before you, a man paced, carefully keeping his gaze upon you with each turn. As he once again closed the distance between the two of you, he stopped, placing a hand on either side of you; jostling the surgical table slightly. The cool metal had long since numbed your legs causing waves of cramps to shoot through them. You had been stripped of your clothes upon being locked in the room, with nothing but your jeans and undergarments. Outside the door, you heard muffled yells and what sounded like a large object being thrown.

"Are you ready to talk my dear?" Your eyes widened as you watched the man retrieve a long knife from his sheath, placing it in your lap.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice wavered and his grin widened, exposing his pearlescent white teeth.

"Where's your group?"

"Why does that matter?" he stepped back a step, picking up the knife and slowly spinning it in his hands.

"You have... someone of interest to me."

"Who?"

"My dear, that is not important to you, but see this; if you co-operate, nobody needs to get hurt." It felt like ice was coursing through your veins, your body seeming to get even colder than before.

"No." He stalked over to the door, turned, and crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed to slits and all sense of friendliness drained from his face.

"You're puttin' me in a difficult position. You see, one of my men was killed by the hands of one of yours. An eye for an eye, it's only fair."

"No." He froze for a moment before taking three long strides towards you, inching his face closer to yours. You felt the cool blade of the knife lightly press against your upper arm as he pulled back, looking down at it. Your breath caught in your throat as a small smile spread across his lips as he glanced into your eyes. Piercing screams filled the air as you watched the flash of silver as he glided the knife over your exposed skin, a thick trail of red flowing out behind it. A firm hand clasped over your mouth as you realised the screams were yours.

"I did warn you dear, do you realise now i'm not joking?" He dropped his hand from your mouth and he pushed you down onto the cool table, sharp pains flying through your back as it came in contact with the metal. He stood over you, his eyes boring into yours as you once again felt a sharp pain slice through your skin, only this time it stretched from your rib to your lower stomach. You shot up from the table, gripping your stomach before you were shoved back down again by your shoulders. Squeezing your eyes shut, you awaited the next wave of pain when what could only be described as an explosion echoed through the hallway just out the door. The man stalked over, pulling the door open as clouds of smoke billowed in. You sat up, clutching your stomach as the man disappeared in the smoke, gunshots echoing the hallway. Jumping off the table, you collapsed to the ground from your numb legs; crying out in pain. You could hear yelling in the hall approaching. You attempted to slide backwards as a man appeared in the doorway, gun aimed at you. He stepped further in the room before lowering his gun and crouching in front of you.

"Thank fuck."

You felt a tear slip down your cheek as he inched closer, slipping off his jacket and sliding it onto you.

"Daryl..." He stood, pulling you up with him and leading you out the door into the smoke. Your legs ached from each step you took as you followed him down the hall and out a side door. Gunfire lit up the street as more smoke erupted, clouding your vision as you followed Daryl to a wall where another man was already waiting. The man helped you over, and you began running once outside. You could hear the groans of walkers nearby, barely drowned out by the ongoing gunshots. After running for what felt like miles, you keeled over when you reached several cars parked alongside a road, gripping your stomach tightly; your hands quickly moistening with the semi-dry blood. Warm hands removed yours, holding a piece of fabric tightly against your wound. You glanced up only to be met with a concerned look from Daryl, before he ushered you into the backseat of one of the vehicles, sliding in beside you. The car ride was quiet as you lay your head on Daryl's shoulder, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist and his head resting on top of yours.