[b]Eli - The Deal - Tyler[/b]

After a couple of minutes of waiting, a man appeared from the shadows. He was slender yet toned, and bore the entrance-way to the catacombs like a fuhrer. His body language gave away his rank and position. If Eli didn't know he was Tyler, he'd still figure out [i]he[/i] was the man in charge. To break the unpleasant silence, Tyler seemed to have decided to speak first, greeting Eli with conspicuous mockery. Obliviously, inside his head, Eli cursed the heck out of Tyler, but his facial appearance chronicled an opposition. 

Without further ado, Eli followed Tyler as he entered the immorality of his sanctuary. Sure, it was a smart thing to have ones shelter underneath the apocalypse, but the conditions were extremely irrational and would conclude to be dangerous to Tyler's modeled world. Keeping mothers in these environments would only bring forth deception. The child they bare will have a higher probability of death, but all this wasn't Eli, nor Bruce's problem. Only reason they dealt with Tyler was to keep Haywood on top and keep a mutual understanding between their town and these glutton raiders. Walking through that underground lair was purely disgusting. No part of their entire catacomb resembled any part of Haywood. Unlike their town, Tyler's place was obscene and salacious. It reeked like the dead and looked even worse. 

"I have the paper work with me like always" Eli stated, looking side to side, watching the prisoners scramble like ants at the sight of Tyler. "You should clean this place up for once. I feel like I tell you this every time I come, yet you do nothing. You've got men who aren't doing anything all day, you might as well put them to clean." Neatness was one of Eli's most brawny attributes. He sought everything to be as crisp as possible, that was the reason Haywood turned out like it currently is. "Anyhow...." Eli continued as they seemed to have reached Tyler's quarters. "......Look over this" he said, passing him the packet of papers. Two sheets described the girl with as much technicality as humanly possible. The second and third sheet had the trade arrangements, ranging from how the deal will be made to what Haywood wanted in return for the girl. It listed all the materials Bruce wanted, which was triple the usual, stating that this girl was more valuable to his cause due to her current condition. 

"I'll leave you with that then. I shall be outside awaiting your response. Please don't take too long, I have duties to return to" he said as he returned towards the entrance, but suddenly, he paused. Without turning, he started to resume his speech. "How is Iman doing? My........wife," he struggled to finish. Every time he came to make a trade he'd ask the same question. It was like a standard procedure, forced to do it every arrival. He stood there, awaiting an answer from the monster that now stood to his back. 

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[b]Floyd - Fear - Arena[/b]

As Floyd was stripped from the safety of the cell, the redneck started to feel an emotion he'd never thought was attainable. The giant from earlier was escorting him to who knows where. They were accompanied by two? Three other guards. As they passed down the cells, Floyd couldn't help but peek into their interior. He squinting eyes caught many women's sight. They all looked struggling, facing the hardships of these brutal men and the harsh conditions they were forced into. But Floyd didn't really feel all that compassionate for all these women, he was in search of one in particular. Unfortunately he was not able to spot her in any of the cells he walked passed. Even if he had actually seen her, there was no way he'd recognize her when all the women were basically mimicking dirt. Every single one of them were covered in raw abomination. It was a horrid image, thankfully it hadn't lasted too long. 

Next thing you know, Floyd was shoved brutally into what seemed to be a larger cell. It basically mimicked a Colosseum, the arena of gladiators. Come to find out that it was basically exactly that. Survivalist now were basically the gladiators of the roman period, fighting to live another day in pure loathsomeness. The fat man even instructed Floyd to fight for his life, it seemed he was putting on a show for these motherf*ckers, there were spectators all around, most of them were part of the raider's armada. Without anymore time to spare, a container was opened up by two of the soldier escorts, allowing a small hoard of walkers into the arena to join Floyd. Rapidly, the four walkers started for their red meat. To make things more interesting, another soldier threw a knife on the ground, ironically, it landed between the walking hoard. Floyd then felt the same emotion again, not understanding why his heartbeat was raising as quickly as it was. 

Floyd's eyes wondered side to side with intention. He was trying to understand why these people were playing such games with human life. This was irrational, it didn't constitute anything, just pure comedic relief. Then as the imaginary bell ringed, the fight began. Floyd encountered the first walker with a right fist to its jaw, sending the walkers face flinging to the side. As it came back, he resumed by taking the walker by the clothing and tugging him aside, throwing it directly onto the ground. The second and third walker followed together, in the meantime, the first walker was already getting back up. Floyd quickly front kicked the second walker, forcing it to physically stumble backwards, then dodged the third walker by rolling aside. At that point, he was crouching right above the knife supplied by the soldiers. He picked it up to meet the fourth walkers drooling over his shoulder. He arose with his left forearm, clashing against the fourth walker's neck and stabbing it in the head's skeletal system directly over the forehead. That walker tumbled straight down without pause. He then took the opportunity of being armed and rushed for the first walker, who at the time had still not fulfilled his mission to regain balance. He kicked it back down, jumped over it, and jammed that dull blade into its skull, leaving a gap where one could see its demolished brain. 

The third and fourth walkers seemed to have given their double team another shot. They took three steps forward to catch Floyd in the act of murdering one of their friends - the first walker. With a twist of the hips, Floyd came bashing in with his knife and met the fourth walker on the side of the head, but without time to remove the blade, the third walker reached Floyd by the shoulders, knocking him back into the arena walls. Floyd still held the handle of the knife that was stuck to the fourth walker. He dragged that body along with the knife, trying to pull it out. Floyd used his own free hand to prevent the walker from getting those filthy teeth too close to his body. He then used the walker's own momentum to push [i]him[/i] onto the dirt. Finally managing to remove the knife from the fourth walker's cadaver, Floyd took action and pinned the third zombie down. He stabbed it directly through the face to puncture its brain, but wouldn't stop. He continued to do it until he finally became exhausted and fell back, dropping the knife on the ground in the process. 

From the ground, he watched everyone eyeing him like an idol. He couldn't understand why someone could be so damn wicked. Not even his parents were this demented. That's the reason his ideals of this new world were completely correct. There weren't anymore good people out there, no matter anybody says. The apocalypse changed everyone for the worse, it was logical. Even now, as much as he hated every single on of these raiders, Floyd just couldn't judge them.