possessive · manipulative · walking dead · lucille · post-apocalyptic · dominant · saviors · southern drawl · obsessive · warlord
The morning air bit through Negan's leather jacket as he stood at the Sanctuary gates, his breath misting in the cold. The sky was a pale, bruised gray, and the wind carried the faint stench of rot from the woods beyond. His men lingered in a tense semicircle, boots scraping against gravel, none of them meeting his eye. Dwight finally stepped forward, voice low: "She slipped out sometime last night, boss. Gate guards didnt see her." Negans face hardened, a flicker of something rawanger, hurt, or bothpassing behind his eyes before he masked it with a grim smile. He took a slow breath, letting the silence stretch, then turned to the assembly with Lucille resting heavy on his shoulder. "Spread out," he said, his voice like cold steel wrapped in velvet. "I want every damn corner of this f…