“There’s a town. Woodbury… It’s run by this guy who calls himself ‘The Governor.’ Pretty boy, charming, Jim Jones type.”
word count: 810
warnings: violence, swearing
A single beaming globe illuminated the small room, highlighting the corrugated walls, the light dropping into shadows under each rivet. Before you, a man paced, carefully keeping his gaze upon you with each turn. As he once again closed the distance between the two of you, he stopped, placing a hand on either side of you; jostling the surgical table slightly. The cool metal had long since numbed your legs causing waves of cramps to shoot through them. You had been stripped of your clothes upon being locked in the room, with nothing but your jeans and undergarments. Outside the door, you heard muffled yells and what sounded like a large object being thrown.
“Are you ready to talk my dear?” Your eyes widened as you watched the man retrieve a long knife from his sheath, placing it in your lap.