Twisted [Negan Fanfic]

Ch. 12

"Too often people mistake monsters for gods."

Violet skims her fingertips along the rigid walls, watching her fingers as they move throughout the deep lines. She walks down the long, dark hallway, dull lights over her head. She had finished her shift today and Negan was out on a run with his men, so she had nothing to do. She had sat in her room for hours on end, staring up at the ceiling as she tries to forget. But she couldn't.

As she continues down the long hallway, she hears music humming in the distance. She stops in her tracks, staring straight ahead. It was the first time that she had heard music in years. She furrows her eyebrows as she tries to listen to the beat. She takes a few more steps down the hallway, continuing to drag her fingers along the wall beside her. She stops again, focusing on the words of the song.

The beat is loud and upbeat as a woman sings the words:

We're on easy street, and it feels so sweet, 'cause the world is but a treat when you're on easy street....

Violet furrows her eyebrows again as she cocks her head to the side, noticing the boombox that is blaring the song on the floor next to a closed door. Violet quickly turns her eyes behind her to see if anyone is coming - nobody. She turns back around, looking the closed door up and down. She removes her fingers from the wall as she takes a few steps forward, the music is so loud it gently vibrates the floor beneath her feet.

She kneels down on the floor next to the boombox as she keeps her eyes on the door in front of her. Violet clicks the pause button as the aggravating song comes to a halt. The high pitch woman's voice stops as the floor below her feet no longer vibrates. "Fuck," Violet smiles to herself, "that's annoying."

"Tell me about it," a voice on the other side of the door says in response. Violet quickly stands back up, taking a few steps back. She leans against the cold wall behind her as she stares at the closed door. "Who are you?" Violet asks the voice behind the closed door, her interest peaked. "I'm Daryl," the man behind the door says, his voice low and weak.

Violet looks both ways down the quiet hallway to make sure that no is coming, still, there's nobody but her there. She thinks for a few seconds, her brain telling her to walk away and never come back, but she knows she can't, she never can. She likes answers. She likes to press buttons.

"Why are you in there?" Violet asks as she takes a step towards the door. The man is quiet for a second. "I'm locked in here," he says, "they won't let me out." Violet listens to him, keeping her eyes locked in on the door. She takes another step forward, placing the handle of the door in her hand as she tries to tug it open. He's right, it's locked.

"Dwight has the key," Daryl says, "or maybe Negan does. Hell, I don't know let alone care anymore. They could kill me and I'd be fine with it." Violet releases the handle of the door as she slides down next to the door, sitting beside the now silent boombox. "Why do they have you locked up?" Violet asks as she leans against the wall.

"I punched Negan," the guy says on the other side. A slow smile spreads across Violet's face as she pouts her lips slightly. "Wow," she smiles, "that was pretty ballsy." Daryl doesn't respond. "Hey," Violet says as she turns her head back towards the door, "are you still alive in there?"

"Yeah," Daryl says quietly, "he killed my friend. That's why I hit him...." Violet's smile fades as she realizes what a mistake she's made. "Oh," she says quietly, "I'm sorry." She hears Daryl shift slightly in his small room, some part of his accidentally bumping the door. "Yeah," he says again, "so am I."

Violet is quiet as she pulls on a lose piece of skin tied next to her left index finger. "Why did he kill him?" She asks, curiosity spreading through her. "To prove a point I guess," the man says, seemingly unconvinced, "and he did. Trust me, we got it." Violet's furrows her eyebrows with the announcement of a plural word: we. "We?" Violet asks, "You weren't alone?"

"No," he responds, "I was with my group. I don't know how many of us there are, but Rick, he's basically our leader." Violet nods along with his word as the name Rick jumps out at her. She's almost certain that she's heard Negan say that name before. "It was my fault Glenn died though," Daryl says, his voice so low it's barely above a whisper.

"Glenn," Violet repeats, "he was your friend that was killed?" She hears Daryl shift again. "Yeah," he says, "but Abraham was the first one that Negan killed." Violet keeps her eyebrows furrowed as she draws in a quick breath before speaking again. "Wait," she mutters, "Negan killed two of your friends?"

"Yeah," he responds again, "but Glenn's death was my fault. I shouldn't have hit him...." That's when Violet understands. She nods her head slowly as sadness fills her heart. She knows what that's like. To get someone else killed. "I'm sorry," she murmurs as she picks at the skin at her cuticle, "about both of your friends, Glenn and Abraham."

"Thanks," Daryl mutters, "hey, what's your name?" Violet turns her head towards the door. "I'm Violet," she says, "Violet Owens." As soon as her name is out of her mouth, she hears a door close loudly, men's voices quickly filling down the hallway. "Hey, I gotta go," Violet says as she quickly rises. "Okay," Daryl says on the other side of the door, "it was nice talkin' to you I guess."

Violet quickly leans down, pressing play on the boombox. Within an instant, the floor beneath Violet's feet begins to rattle again. Violet jogs quietly down the hallway, pressing her fingertips across the wall, the deep lines beneath them again. As she walks away from the door, from the hallway, from Daryl, she can't help but sing along to the catchy, disturbing song.

We're on easy street, and it feels so sweet, 'cause the world is but a treat when you're on easy street....

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