DEVILS ♛ C. G. 〖 #wattys2018 〗

T H R E E / F I V E

fuck this is a shitty chapter i'm sorry

SOTC: Haunting — Halsey
• I think I'm possessed •

Feeling disastrously nauseous, April walked into the room.

Immediately, looks of concern drifted her way, regarding the blotchy redness across her cheeks, the exhaustion dragging her heavy eyelids down. Her own mouth tasted absolutely repulsive. She wanted to spit out her tongue.

The coffee maker seemed to have a gravity of its own. She took a paper cup, then mindlessly pressed buttons until the machine began to sputter.

April looked up. The room was vaguely blurry, but it had gotten better since she'd woken up and vomited out her guts. She could discern four doubled images from across the room, her father's wives, standing across the back wall.

The one with black hair, Tanya. Elle's girlfriend. She was staring at April, but it wasn't a hard stare, more soft. A communication.

April blinked, then turned away. She wasn't up for this today.

"Talk about fucked up."

A laugh came from behind her. She wheeled around, assumed what she hoped looked like a sleepy grin, and not a grimace.

Her father studied her features. "You need, like, meds or some shit."

April took a gulp of the freshly-brewed coffee. It stung her mouth going down. She nodded towards Negan. "Nah, already had aspirin."

The man pursed his lips. "You need more," he said plainly. "How 'bout that spray shit? Didn't we used to use that?"

"Yeah. I'll go look." April turned to leave, eager to leave her father's presence.

"Wait a sec," Negan said. "I have someone I want you to meet."

April watched as he gestured towards a group of people. One tall man emerged, wearing a black trench coat. His hair was slicked back into a dark, greasy mane. His eyes seemed proportionally tiny for the size of his face. Almost beady, like the emotion was sucked out of him.

"April, I'd like you to meet Dr. Porter. He's a beautiful, big-balled man. A scientist from Alexandria."

He then turned. "Eugene, this is my daughter, April."

They exchanged awkward greetings, then she retreated, anxious to drink the rest of her coffee and hurl it up later that day. It wasn't fun, but at least it grounded her, and at least it would be over soon.

♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ 

The walls had widened since he'd grown used to them. The floor had cleared, the guards grew nicer, as his perception grew tolerant. More than anything, he didn't care. He'd always been here.

He took his liberties in small doses. He could pick his strategy with the walkers—which chains he would use, or a wooden pole today? He could choose how long he ate his dinner, as long as he got sleep. He could dream whatever his mind wanted to explore, with no reins from the Sanctuary.

He didn't even puke anymore. Back when the smell had bothered him, he'd empty out his stomach near daily. His skin vacuum-sealed over his bones. If he ran his hand over the side of his body, he could feel every rivet of his ribcage.