His fingers twitched slightly as he sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes not leaving the stack of letters that sat on his nightstand. Reaching over he grabbed the second letter, opening the envelope and getting to work on reading the paper.

'negan

i knew you couldn't stay away. you want answers don't you? of course you do. why am i doing this to you negan? take a wild guess.

did you think? do you have your final answer? theres no going back, there's no changing your answer. you have it?

okay good. hang onto it because we'll get to that soon. 

what made you do it negan? what made you think that it was a good idea to take over an old factory, make people live there and fear you?

the difference between you and i is my people don't fear me, we work together. we built our place up together and trust, you—you thrive on fear.

well my dear negan, welcome to confession two.

do you remember confession one? you do? okay good. because confession two just gets worse, so prepare yourself.

i was the best sniper in my unit. i have seen war negan, have you? you prance around your camp with guns and men who act as mock soldiers, did you really think there was none left?

let me tell you something negan. us veterans didn't appreciate coming home to an apocalypse, and we sure as hell don't appreciate you and your pansies pretending like you know the first thing about war, you don't even know the half of it.

keep an eye out, someone's always watching.

xoxo
-R.'

Negan sat still for a moment. When he was in his final years of high school many people—men and women— left to become soldiers in the military. He could only imagine how many people actually left around the world to go help out.

Standing up off his bed, Negan folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. It was like someone could sense his off mood, because in the few seconds that it took to do that, there was a quick and urgent knock on the door. "What!?" Negan growled, the door to the room opened and Dwight stood looking nervous.

"Uh sorry sir, but we have a problem," Negan sighed. "What the fuck is it now?" He asked, he was beyond annoyed.

"Well um, our men are being picked off at the gates," Dwight said before turning and rushing away. Negan grabbed Lucille and rushed out of the room he was in and chased after Dwight. Pushing one of the many doors that led to the gates, Negan stepped out cautiously.

If she was out there, he didn't want to become her next target. But in the back of Negan's head he couldn't get the letters out of his head. The women he is dealing with is a war vet, and she was right, Negan wouldn't find her until she wanted to be found.

Watching as his men got picked off one by one, Negan grew angry seeing his dead count rise. But part of him remained shocked as every single person was shot right through the brain. "Get inside!" Negan yelled to his men. "Get your dumb asses inside!" He yelled again, slipping back into the sanctuary walls himself.

Sighing with a shake of his head, Negan started to walk back to the hallway to his personal quarters. He gripped Lucille so tightly his knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white. Opening the door to his small apartment, he closed the door behind him and placed Lucille down. Then, out of pure rage, he flipped over, threw and destroyed anything he could in the room; but the letters remained untouched on his bed.

Breathing heavily, and hands shaking Negan flipped a chair right side up before sitting down, "I'll fucking find that woman, and when I do— she's going to be dead."