The Governor stared at me, his face filled with both anger and confusion.
A nasty dark bruise was already swelling up under his right eye from where Merle had clipped him earlier, and his clothes were stained with dirt and dried sweat.
"What the hell do you mean?!" he spat, his voice hoarse. "Just what do you want from me?! How the hell did you sneak all the way to my office past all the lookouts?! Are they that useless?!"
I was both amused and taken aback a little by his sudden outburst.
From what I knew of the main timeline, Philip Blake wasn't the type to let his emotions get the better of him. He was calculated, cold.
But I guess this reaction was to be expected—after all, we had bypassed his entire army, snatched him straight from the heart of his settlement—or should I say former settlement—and dragged him out in broad daylight with him being none the wiser.
That kind of total defeat breaks a man's pride.
I let out a low chuckle. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at him with a glint of amusement in my eyes.
"You're asking an awful lot of questions for someone in your position," I said, my voice steady and calm. "But that's fine. I guess I'll humor you for a while."
I looked around the small, cramped room and grabbed the only wooden chair sitting in the corner.
I dragged it over across the floorboards, the legs making a loud scraping sound that made the Governor flinch, and sat down directly in front of him.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?" I said. "Surely you remember that little farmhouse you put your men to spy on, right?"
Hearing me say that, the Governor's eyes widened up in pure disbelief. All the color drained out of his face, leaving him looking sickly and pale.
"Y... you," he stuttered, his jaw trembling. "You're from... from that place?! Which means...!"
His eyes darted all around the small room, his mind racing as he finally put the pieces together.
"Bingo!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands together once. The sharp smack echoed off the bare walls. "You got it right! Unfortunately, though, there's no prize."
"But how?!" the Governor grinded out, straining against the handcuffs digging into his wrists. "How did you know I was gunning for you?! How did you know my layout...!"
Then, suddenly, he froze. His eyes went completely wide. The veins on his neck bulged against his skin as his face turned a dangerous, violent shade of red.
"Michonne!!" he roared, his voice cracking, with a look of utter murderous hatred on his face. "That filthy bitch! I should have just killed her right there and then when I had the chance!"
He thrashed wildly against the restraints, his wrists and ankles turned red with blood, trying to break free just so he could strangle someone.
Seeing him roar and rage in total futility, the grin on my face widened a tad more.
I felt a heavy wave of pleasure course right through my veins.
Feeling completely vindicated, I leaned back in my chair and watched him struggle.
"But man," I continued, snapping him out of his blind rage, "you really are one sick fuck, aren't you?"
I watched the confusion creep back onto his rage-filled face.
He stopped thrashing, breathing heavily through his nose.
"It's one thing to attack and loot other survivors," I said, keeping my voice flat. " I mean i get it, It's a brutal world, people do what they have to do. But to keep a hidden room tucked away in your office? A room lined with fish tanks filled with floating walker heads? And let's not forget that walker chained up to the wall... now that... that's psychotic behavior, even for this world."
The Governor's face paled again.
This time he looked like a ghost.
The anger completely vanished, replaced by sheer, blinding panic.
"What did you do to my Penny?!" he roared. He started thrashing again with all his might, this time futility trying to break the ropes and handcuffs.
"Penny?" I said, tilting my head in mock confusion, even though I already knew exactly who that was.
"That chained walker is my daughter!" the Governor roared, his voice breaking. He struggled even more fiercely, scraping his already bloodied wrists, ankles turning them even more bloody. "Tell me what you did to her!"
"Ah, that was your daughter?" I said, putting on an exaggerated, sorrowful face. "I'm sorry. Must have been heartbreaking to see your own flesh and blood turn into one of those things."
Then I shrugged carelessly, leaning back in the chair. "I don't know, dude," I said casually.
"After we grabbed you from your office, we left the closet door wide open. We exposed your deeds and your little secret room to the Woodbury citizens before we brought you here. They weren't too happy about you keeping biters as pets in the same building they slept in. I think you can guess what happened to her."
Hearing me say that, the Governor froze once again.
All the fight instantly drained out of him. His shoulders slumped, a look of extreme helplessness and crushing grief washed over his face.
The psychotic, untouchable leader of Woodbury was gone, replaced by a broken, pathetic man sitting tied to a chair in a dirty room.
"No…" he sobbed, his voice dropping to a broken whisper. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over his bruised cheek. "My Penny... my daughter..."
Seeing him break down like this, I felt a sharp twinge of guilt bubble up inside my chest.
He was a monster, but right now he was just a grieving father who had lost his kid twice.
But I ruthlessly squashed that guilt down.
I remembered what he did in the show.
I remembered him decapitating Hershel.
I remembered him rolling a tank through the prison fences, destroying the only safe home Rick's group had built, and getting countless people killed just because of his own bruised ego.
He was a rabid dog.
He was an enemy, and enemies in this world don't deserve sympathy.
If I gave him an inch, he would take a mile and kill everyone I cared about.
I stood up from the wooden chair, looking down at his weeping form.
"You don't have to be so sad," I said flatly, my voice cold and entirely empty of pity. "Soon you're going to join your daughter in the afterlife."
Before he could even process the words, I stepped forward, pulled my heavy pistol from its holster, and brought the steel grip down hard against the side of his jaw.
There was a sickening crack, and the Governor slumped backward, instantly knocked out cold.
(To be continued...)