The cold winds blew a chill up your spine, as you look around. Blinded by the bright lights, they make you feel as if you were standing in some kind of stadium.
People are gathered in a surrounding circle, trapping you inside. They stare at you with something cold behind their eyes and the way they look like they just killed someone make you even more fearful.
You can hear Maggie's ragged deep breathing, the pain overtaking her. But right now, the fear was beginning to set into her as well.
"Welcome to where you're goin." One of the men who had stopped you all on the road earlier steps forward into the light. A smug and confident smirk on his face.
Soon they are patting you all down, stripping you of your guns and knives. Your weapons. And force you all to kneel in a line facing the RV.
Helping Abraham and Rick set Maggie down, you kneel between Maggie and Abraham. Trying to keep her upright when all she wanted was to curl up into a ball. Although you were all feeling the desire to do so right then.
"Dwight!" The same man shouts to another tall man, with a burned face. Telling him to grab the others, and to hurry up.
This Dwight man; the thing that stands out first to you isn't the side of his face that is burned and scared. But the fact that he wears Daryl's jacket and carries his crossbow. The pit of nerves growing in your stomach only grows larger when you see that, beginning to think the worst.
Facing the way Dwight went, you spot some sort of small trailer. Opening up the back, people are pushed out.
The first is the one person you needed in this moment, just not the way you wanted to see him. A thin dirty blanket is wrapped over his shoulders, but you can still spot the blood staining his skin. On his chest and covering his hands, making you let out a quiet gasp to yourself.
Kneeling down beside Michonne and Rosita, Glenn following behind them and reacting stunned when he see his wife beside you.
Daryl's skin you notice, on his arms and even on his cheeks has paled. Instead of looking Sun kissed tan, he looks a sickly white. Making yourself wonder how long he's been like that. Shot. Bleeding out. In pain.
He left a day or two ago, anger clouding his mind and all his judgement. You beged him to stay, pleaded for him not to go out there and get himself killed. But Daryl was Daryl, and he didn't listen to you. And because you loved him... You let him leave.
Now he was here, in the same situation as you. Kneeling into the hard and rocky dirt, waiting for an unknown fate.
"Let's meet the man!" The same man says to you all, pounding a couple times on the RV window.
The door slowly opens, and walking out of the shadows you see a tall man. A smirk on his face as well, a leather jacket button tightly over his shirt and a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire over his shoulder.
"We pissin out pants yet?" He speaks, his voice taunting is with each fiber of his being standing there.
Looking at him now as he walks out closer into the light, looking at all of you one by one. And as his eyes fall on yours that stare back, you see it. He is the devil.
"Oh I have a feeling it's going to be pee pee city here real soon."
His boots crunch on the gravely ground below him as he paces up and down the curved line of everybody kneeling.
Taking your gaze off his for a split second you are locked into Daryl's; his eyes staring right back at you.
It takes everything to look away from him, putting your attention back to the man standing in front of Rick now. Towering over him.
