They locked you in a cold and completely dark place without captivating you. In a short time your eyes got used to the darkness and more or less allowed you to understand where you were: It looked like a tool shed, and the faint light that came through the planks showed a small and empty environment. You got up and inspected the circumference: You pushed against the wooden walls, smooth, even, sturdy, impossible to break with your bare hands. You found a door that was obviously locked. Shit… You curled up in a corner and wrapped yourself in the cloth you wore when you tried to escape, waiting for someone to come and visit. Will they punish you? Probably. It doesn’t take long for someone to open the door and close it immediately. The lamp he carried revealed Joe’s face, and the blood froze in your veins.

“Hi, pretty, how are you?”, he asked in a clear voice but you didn’t answer. The man put the lamp down on the floor and knelt down to you. “My people told me that you didn’t behave very well today.,” he said, grimacing. You turned to the side and tried to escape his slimy eyes.

“Don’t worry, our women will be punished properly.”

“Punish me, they have nothing to do with it.”, yoy tried to say. You didn’t care what they would do to you anymore.

“We will punish you too.” He stroked your face and made you flinch. “You know, today was a pretty busy day, I need to relax a bit and you took a bath in the river, right?” He took your chin with two fingers and forced you to nod. “It’s reasonable to see what you offer me.” You swallowed and hoped that you had misunderstood his words. “Please, just let me go.”

Joe grabbed your ankle and jerked you over so you fell on the floor of the shed. His unexpected and violent movement made you cry.

“Hey, calm down, look, I haven’t started yet.”, he said, moistening his lips. He tore the cloth from you and lay down on you. You swallowed again, this time knowing for sure what he was up to. “Please don’t do it.”

“Then pray again.” His hands glided over your now naked body to the wrists and locked them like two tongs. Under his pants, his erection pressed against your thigh, and your tears began to flow…

»Sooner or later you’ll find yourself in a situation where only survival counts.« Michonne sat next to you in the prison yard and watched the Walkers on the fence from a distance. You thought about the moments you had before you got there. You thought of Travis, of Madison… »I think I’ve already experienced it.«

»Then you will know how to recognize it and you will know how to do it.«

»Will not you be with me?«, you asked nervously. The idea of ​​losing her too made your guts twist.

»Maybe yes, maybe no, you can’t make your life the way you once did, we can only be grateful for what we have now and focus on the present.«

»Then why are you telling me about the future?«, you asked, confused. Her sweet smile opened to you, framed by the dreadlocks that fell on her shoulders. Her dark skin glittered, kissed by the late summer sun.

»It doesn’t matter what you have to do about it: loss, pain, loneliness, you can do it anyway, you’re a survivor, Y/N.«

Your cheeks were already covered with tears. Nobody ever said that to you. »Why me?«, you asked in a whisper. Michonne shook your hand and leaned against your shoulder. »Because you have hope.«

You didn’t know how long ago it had been. You didn’t know it… Days, months, years… You were still locked in that damn shed with a cloth as your only defense. Defense that was torn away from you when someone entered this place. The only difference from the beginning was that they tied your wrists to the wall. The chains were made of steel, very thick. Your wrists were now covered with wounds, a bit like the rest of your body. The only person who didn’t try to rape you was the woman who brought you food. When you saw her for the first time again after trying to escape, you asked her how the other woman was.

“She’s dead.”, she replied.

“Did you kill her?”

“No, it was you.”

“I tried to save myself.”, you reasoned.

“And now look at the result, you made the situation even worse, if you had done what I told you at the time, you wouldn’t be here.”

From that moment on, you both stopped talking. You didn’t speak anymore. You didn’t even had hope anymore. Your body and mind were weak, too weak to react, but too strong to die. The only thing you could do was to cry. You almost didn’t notice it anymore. It had become a spontaneous action, driven by depression that constantly strangled you. Your face had no expression anymore: You were empty, annihilated. You were no longer afraid that anyone who sees you might think you are a weak person. You just didn’t care anymore. Sometimes, however, you thought of Daryl and a part of you who was still alive just waiting to be released. You would like to see his facial expression again, which was so similar to yours now. You could see Daryl himself in a dream…

“Tell me, what the hell yer doin’?” He was sitting next to you, near the chains. He smoked a cigarette with a look of total bliss, as if he enjoyed it to the very last draw.

“Don’t look at me, please.” You hid your face and turned to the other side. You were ashamed of this naked and destroyed body that you couldn’t cover. You were ashamed because your dignity had turned to ashes.

“I’ll look at ya’ anyway!”, said the ethereal man sitting next to you. “Ya’ know, if I was really here, I’d kick ya’ in the ass!”

You couldn’t be indifferent to him. He was able to shake you even when he wasn’t really here, forcing you to cry seriously for pain. “You’re unfair.”

“Bullshit.”, he commented. The tip of the cigarette blushed red as Daryl inhaled the smoke deeply. “‘Nd yer in a situation that’s full of shit.”

“Why are you so mean?”, you asked.

“'Cause yer treated like a cheap bitch!”

You sobbed in despair. Everything hurt you, inside and out. And Daryl. Daryl hurt you. “How can I… I… Don’t you see that my wrists are tied up?”, you asked, shaking the chains weakly.

“Don’t care, yer just lookin’ for excuses.” The man took one last pull from the cigarette and then extinguished the glow on the wall a few inches from your wrist. He left a small black stripe and put the stub in a pocket of his leather vest. As he talked, he snorted the smoke out. “Do ya’ know how Merle lost’s hand?” You met his brother in prison at the time. He was a real asshole. “No, I have no idea.”

“Rick handcuffed him 'n the roof of a buildin’ 'n Atlanta 'nd left him there with only a hacksaw 'n him, ain’t sharp 'nough to destroy the cuffs.”

“Did he cut his hand?”, yoy asked more to yourself than to him. But you didn’t realize how that could help you. “And then?”, yoy asked in a whisper, tired of all the talk. Daryl pointed to the chain around your wrist and then looked at you with his sharp eyes. “Show me how strong 'nd brave ya’ ’re, Y/N.”

He approached your face to kiss your forehead, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the physical contact, which had nothing violent compared to those you’ve suffered recently. The kiss didn’t reach you and when you opened your eyes again, you were alone again. You turned your face to your chained wrists. Over the chains, you noticed a black stripe, right where Daryl put out the cigarette…

The woman entered the shed to feed you again and you pretended to die… Maybe if you felt pity, she would rather speak.

“I don’t think I can last any longer…”, you said flatly. She looked at you. “Do you want to throw up?”

“I’m going to die.”, yoy mumbled. “I don’t feel anything anymore, it makes me sick to eat.” And that wasn’t a lie.

“I’m sorry, it shouldn’t have come this far.”

“Can you do me one last favor?” The woman nodded in silence. “I’d like to know what happened to my weapons, I want to know if they’ve landed in good hands, my… daggers, and… the machete.”, you asked.

“Why are you so interested?”

“Because they were my traveling companions since it all began, they saved my life many times, and I can say that I’ve built an emotional bond with them.”, you said in a low voice. “It would be a comfort to know that they will continue to save lives.”

She seemed to think about your words and her eyes sparkled with tears. “Joe still has this machete in. The daggers, I don’t know where they are, maybe in the warehouse next to the tent, along with other weapons, I’m sure they’re in good hands.”

“Thank you, you were very nice.”

When you thanked her, she got up to leave and you were mentally ready to get out of here. Because now you have decided: Alive or dead, you’ll leave this place. Unfortunately, you were very weak. You were sure you couldn’t get very far if you didn’t regain your strength, so you decided to wait a few days before doing your crazy plan. You started moving your hands and fingers, numb from the uncomfortable position and the chains. When you were alone, you did a few exercises, lifting your legs and bending your knees. In a few days, you felt that your body responded to the movements. A blind rage woke up in you and you decided that it was time to leave. Once again alone, after your last meal and with the darkness of the night as an ally, you chose which wrist you would break. You’re right/left-handed, so you decided to sacrifice your right/left hand. It would be painful, but not so much as staying here. You took a deep breath and began to break your own wrist, which mingled with the blood of the wounds. But the base of the thumb blocked the passage of the rest from the hand. You took a firm jerk to break the carpal bones on the side of your thumb and the pain crossed your bones all the way to your brain. You bit your tongue to keep from screaming, and you realized disappointedly that your hand was still not free. You started crying and gritted your teeth: With another jerk, you finally got your hand through. Your hand shook with pain and your wrist burned as if you had roasted it on a fire. Instinctively, you moved the link and were sure you had actually broken the hand. You took a deep breath as adrenaline pumped into you. You swallowed and tried to endure the pain, suppressing the tears and concentrating on your goal. Almost without wishing, you chose the right moment to move: Just as you rearranged your hand as if it were still attached to the chains, a man entered the shed.

“It’s time for a bit of fun, sweetie.”

“Do you guard the area?”, you asked in a trembling voice because of the pain. He will not mind your unusual curiosity because his heart was too concentrated to pump blood into another region of his body.

“Yes, but I’ll be fast, don’t worry.”

Quickly loosening his pants and bending over you he penetrated into you and began to move hectic, as he could barely suppress the excitement. When he penetrated you disgustingly, you looked at his body with your eyes and luckily found a knife on his right side. When you felt that he had reached his climax, you didn’t hesitate: Grabbing the knife and ramming it in the back of his neck after pulling it out with painful exhaustion. The abundant blood that spilled out of the wound completely smeared you, while the asshole died while shaking. And he had the keys of the chains. You smiled nervously, glad not to have to break your other hand and freed yourself. You used the time left to you and took the weapons he had with him.The knife and a pistol with twelve bullets. Then you ran outside and let yourself be enveloped by the night. Your legs barely held your weight. You didn’t think you could escape from here on foot, so you had to find and drive a car, but not before you got back to what you were capable of. The camp was deserted, probably because most people slept and to warn no one, you killed some men with the knife. “They are not people, Y/N. Not anymore.” You repeated it to give you courage, even though Rick told you that it doesn’t refer to people who were still alive. But isn’t it the same? Didn’t you lose your humanity when you spend your time raping women and killing people? As you hid behind a caravan, you were surprised by the steps: You pushed your way into the shadows as a young woman passed beside you. You grabbed her by the arm and closed her mouth. “Where is he?”, you whispered threateningly, the knife in your hand. She shows with her eyes in one direction. “Thanks.”, you said, slapping her with the gun on the head, causing her to lose consciousness. Before you went to Joe, you searched for the armory. You entered the shed next to the tent by lighting with an oil lamp and searched for your weapons. After you found them, you also took a rifle and dragged you out. At the door you met one of the claimers. As soon as he saw you, he was startled in surprise, but when he tried to pull the weapon, you threw one of your daggers, which struck him right through the eyes. You were surprised to see how your reflexes didn’t deteriorate. You thanked my survival instinct, which had become more sophisticated over time. As you hurried to Joe’s tent, someone shouted that the camp was being attacked by Walkers. “Shit.”, you hispered. However, you took advantage of the general chaos and entered the tent, surprised him in bed with a woman who screamed as soon as she saw you. You loaded the gun and pointed it at her, though you knew the real threat was only Joe.

“Y/N!”, he called in surprise. “Aren’t you dead yet?”

“It seems like the situation has reversed. My machete, forward.”, you incite him.

“But why do you want to go?”

“My weapon, now.”, you said firmly. “Or I will shoot her.”

A nervous laugh escaped him. “You will not do it.”

Without thinking too much, you pulled the trigger and Joe was covered in her blood. He remained paralyzed for a second, shocked by what you just did. Then you aimed the weapon at him.

“In the meantime, you’ll kill me too, what will I get if I tell you where I keep it?”

You shot the man’s leg and let him scream in pain. “You don’t get anything.”

“Please don’t do it!”

“Pray again.”, you answered hissing to the body in front of you. Outside, in the meantime, more men shot at the Walkers, another screamed, perhaps bitten by those who had attacked the camp. No one seemed to care about Joe. You found the machete under the bed, silent and deadly. When you left the tent, you saw the pure chaos. The Walkers ate the claimers. You wanted to find some supplies for the trip, but given the situation, it would be a risk that you didn’t want to have. You saw some cars parked near the trailer and prayed that at least one of them had the keys and could get you away from the place. When you were almost at the cars, a woman stood in front of you, the woman you had knocked down, or rather what was left of her. Her eyes sad, but now iridescent. Her neck was drawn with a fresh bite and her hands reached out to meet you.

“I’m so sorry.”, you whispered, shooting her straight in the face.

»I had never killed anyone before.« At the time it was something liberating, as if your mind wanted nothing more than to put an end to your abductors. Maybe it was just that, because the moment you pulled the trigger, you felt free. Free to decide about the life of another. Of course it wasn’t just that. The thirst for revenge and the fear of death led to extraordinary actions. The survival instinct made you make decisions that are completely alien to those of everyday life. Who would have thought while studying at college to build a future that would ultimately kill a man? In the hours immediately after your crime, you were blamed. And you cried. You cried for Travis and Madison, but also for you… Where would your humanity end after this moment? Would you fall into a spiral that you couldn’t have walked away from? Would you have become like such, unable to stop yourself once you tasted the taste of blood? You were afraid. A terrible fear of not recognizing yourself in the mirror anymore. And you wondered if, in everything that had happened, every person on earth was forced to do terrible things, just like you. You promised to never touch a weapon again, except to protect yourself from the living dead. And while you were wondering if there was anyone left capable of a trace of mercy and walking around on the interstate that led to Atlanta, a man’s voice surprised you from behind.

»How many Walkers have you killed?«