No Sanctuary For Old Men [18+] |Negan| ✔️ Complete

LXV • Not Quite Yet

EARLIER...

Spencer watched the blonde walk her tight little ass into the bathroom, and threw his head back in a triumphant laugh as she closed the door behind her. He opened the top drawer of the dresser next to the bed and dug out a little black dress that he'd saved just for the occasion. Continuing to whistle his happy little tune, he wandered all the way back down to the cell block.

Before he'd let his little prize out of her box, he'd instructed a few of the guards to set up the other satisfying half of this milestone he was about to mark. He entered a room with four blank walls and a grate, with hanging cuffs that had held only one man multiple times since Spencer had taken control of the Sanctuary.

"You know what's fuckin' sad?" the inhabitant drawled. "I'm actually starting to prefer these little chats with you over sharing a bed with Rick the Depressing-Ass Fuckin' Prick."

"Oh, Negan, I don't think you're going to enjoy this one." Spencer sneered, the diatribe not wiping the glee from his eyes. "And I'm not even going to hurt you this time."

"Aw, and I was so fuckin' looking forward to your fly swatting today," the true King of the Sanctuary said, his own smirk donning his face. Even hanging there, clad in only tattered pants with a scarred chest and bare feet, he still had that presence that commanded a room.

Spencer growled, and got right up in his face, grabbing his chin hard with his left hand. He brought his lips right to Negan's ear, not wanting him to miss a single word.

"Your little blonde lieutenant begged me to set her free," he hissed, "and she's upstairs in MY bedroom right now, putting on a little black dress just for me."

Two emotions battled inside of Negan in that moment. Raw, primal, unadulterated anger at Spencer insinuating he was going to defile Daphne. And pure, intense relief that she was still alive. He hadn't known what had happened to her. And he hadn't wanted to ask, for fear of giving this fuck any ideas on ways to get to him. It appeared that he'd been planning it all along.

"Your little slut is going to whore herself to me for her freedom," Spencer continued, voice low and menacing as his prisoner vibrated with anger in front of him. "I'm gonna make her fucking perform. Maybe when she's good and broken in we'll come on down here and show you how well she takes care of me."

There was a clatter of metal as Negan tried to launch himself forwards, murder in his amber eyes.

Spencer leapt back, unable to stop the fit of giggles from bubbling up his throat. "Please, Spencer, let me out, I'll do anything!" he mocked, voice in a high falsetto, and snapped his fingers to alert the guards from the hall to resume their post inside the room. "Keep an eye on our honoured guest...I think I'll come back when I'm done getting all up in his little blonde so he can smell her sweat and fucking tears on me." He waved with Lucille, and disappeared from the room, whistling his sickly sweet tune as he went.

Negan fought to control his breathing, his heart rate, his everything. He was so close to a blind rage, and being blind wasn't going to help him in this moment.

"You think Spen'll get tired of her quick?" One of the guards asked the other, leaning casually against the wall. "I like the redhead, but some variety would be nice."

"You mean you never got a go at Tanya?" The other guard snorted. "You need to try her out, man, sweet as candy. And she don't fight as much."

Blind.

Negan wrapped his hands around the chains suspending him and raised his legs, kicking the first guard square in the chest. He let out a noise of surprise, and the Savior King caught his neck between his thighs as he fell forward, snapping his neck with a quick twist. The second guard simply gaped at this development, eyes blank with shock.