Lucile Mason | 27 | Female | Ex-Member of Red’s Gang |

Night time came quickly and by the time Lucile realized nobody was going to check and even see where she’d gone, she had already waited at least half an hour. Five minutes in she pulled an oatcake from her bag to chew on, ten minutes in she’d lit a lantern, and by 30 minutes she had decided she’d waited long enough. No one would show up.

All she wanted was a simple opinion on her hair, but of course, nobody would even show up for that. Moving to her feet with a sigh, she rummaged through her satchel a moment before pulling out an old lock. A safety precaution, just in case. Getting shot wasn’t an option in this place, nor would she like it to be. Carefully hopping her way over the loose floorboards and large cracks, she delicately planted herself in front of the old wooden door, examining it a moment before putting the lock in place and clicking it closed. She’d trusted these women and young boys enough already, and with the streak they currently had going for them, getting shot up by the cops for a reason unknown to Lucile, and carrying some passed out city-looking girl with them, she wasn’t going to trust them any more than she had to right now.

Attentively making her way back across the room she sat herself back down in the rotting stool she’d found and looked in the mirror again. Three inches, four inches? How many inches to cut off this time?

How many inches of hair would she have to give up before the law didn’t recognise her anymore, before she was nothing but another civilian. Would probably be a bit easier if I wasn’t always robbing people though…

Pick a random length and style it best I can. Just gonna have to warn everyone in the morning I cut it before they accidentally shoot me, unless they’re planning it regardless. Then I shoot them.

Picking back up the scissors that she’d laid on the dresser next to her, Lucile collected a couple strands of her hair and took a few seconds to stare at them.

“Ah, mis hermosos rizos, te despido, una vez más. Perdóname.”

Sliding her fingers through the pieces of her hair she had picked, she pulled the scissors to them, bringing them up and down before finally, snip.

Lucile might have sat there an hour, maybe two, in the dim light of her lantern cutting away at her hair as she watched in the mirror, till it was no longer long, winding, and wavy, but short, ear-lengthed, and curled.

Setting her scissors back down she took a moment to reflect. She liked it of course, and hoped everyone else would like it too, since that was one of the only reasons she did this in the first place. For people to like her. A friendly face matching with a friendly hairstyle, a strong body matching with a strong hairstyle. It had to check all the boxes perfectly.

If anything was wrong with it, she’d check in the morning, fix it, comb it, style it. Pretty it up, be impressive. But the light in her lantern grew dimmer by the minute, and fixing her hair would come in a few hours. Sleep came first, if sleep would ever come.

Quickly packing away all her things, she stashed the bag safely under the bed before sitting down on the mattress, breathing out a quick sigh before laying on her side and closing her eyes.

Between the rickety house full of strangers, a not completely dry mattress with stains from whoever knows what on it, and the extremely loud chirping of the crickets outside, she knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep.

Vera | 26 | Female | Member

Vera sat on the floor at the foot of the strange woman’s bed, feeling too heavy to force herself to stand. It was as if concrete had filled her boots or she had been turned into thick, chunky butter that had managed to mold itself to the floor. Everything that had weighed her down before seemed to have rolled off her shoulders enough that she could breathe, but made it nearly impossible to move. Her arms ached and her eyes burned. Of course, she could easily stand and make her way to the open bed on the opposite side of the room, but Vera’s eyes felt as heavy as her feet and suddenly she was finding it hard to stay awake.

On the verge of drifting off, the only thing that snapped her from sleep was Esther. Of course she had to wake Vera up now, of all days. The woman came into the room, giving no glance at Vera, who rubbed her eyes and attempted to sit up a bit more, and began talking. Rubbing her temple, Vera sighed while staring up at the blonde before pulling herself to her feet, supporting herself on the bed frame as her legs wobbled from her own weight. Vera blinked as she slowly processed and translated Esther’s words in her head before chuckling softly.

“My day has been about as good as yours,” Vera mumbled as she looked Esther up and down. Just like Vera, Esther was now covered in sweat and dirt, probably from taking care of the horses and the body. How long had Vera been dozing off then if Esther had managed to complete both tasks? However long it was, it was clear Esther’s mood had yet to improve and the physical labor only added to this. It was still so odd to even see Esther— the untouchable, unmovable Esther— covered in dirt. It almost reminded Vera that those she idolized were all human, as if she had not already learned this while watching her friends die around her.

When Esther changed the conversation to focusing on the stranger, Vera could not help but glance down at her. She was blonde, like Esther, but she seemed so much more peaceful and calm than her, even when this woman was now forming a bruise from Vera’s strike. She had her head resting on the soft pillow, her legs raised closer to her chest, as if she was curling into a ball like an armadillo. She looked stunning, like a perfect model from a magazine with her pale skin and slender body. She looked almost frail like a fragile ornamental that was misplaced in this rugged house.

A sudden wash of guilt filled Vera. She did not have to knock out this woman, let alone take her with them. Just imagining the stranger awaking in terror, having been swept away from her family and friends, so far from home with no possibility of going back for a long time. These were not things she wanted to think about so late at night.

“No idea. You can decide that in the morning,” Vera huffed as she waved Esther off, stumbling and crashing into the soggy mattress. It was gross, springy, and moist, but it was somewhat better than the cold, hard floors. “For now, I am going to sleep.” Her muffled voice was hard to hear for a moment because she had shoved her face into the pillow, but she lifted it up and paused as she studied Esther. “You should get some rest too. I can make room in this bed if you would like to watch the woman.” Vera released a small yawn, not even bothering to fight her tiredness at this point in time. Scooting over, Vera left room for Esther to join her as she tucked herself under the blankets and tried not to breathe in the smell of musk and dust that lingered in the sheets.

Esther Reed | 28 y/o | Female | Leader

“No idea. You can decide that in the morning.”

Esther looked at Vera as the woman waved her off. She clenched her teeth together a little, the fact that the other woman was so dismissive about the whole situation sure got on her nerves a bit. They had a passed out stranger in front of them, one that seemed of quite high status at that. The cops were already after them and on top of that, they had kidnapped a woman. While they were safe for the time being, there was no doubt in her mind that the coppers would have extra pressure on them to find the gang thanks to this lady.

With a sigh, Esther looked away from the stranger and over at Vera who was now laying in the other bed. It was no wonder she was acting so dismissively, she was tired, they all were. It had been a long day for everyone and if she had to guess, the boys and Sam had for sure already gone to sleep so it would be rude of her to keep Vera awake any longer. Besides, some sleep would definitely help when they really did have to deal with the stranger.

“You should get some rest too. I can make room in this bed if you would like to watch the woman.”

Esther hesitated a bit, she knew that there was a high risk she would fall asleep if she did lay down in bed and no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't sleep now. If the woman woke up while they both were asleep then it could definitely end badly, not that this woman looked particularly violent, but she knew better than to underestimate someone based on appearances alone.

“Thank you, I’ll keep watch in case she wakes up,” the blonde said as she sat down on the bed, leaning her back against the wall behind the bed,
“Sleep well.”

She gave Vera a tired smile before returning her gaze to the passed out woman across from them. She looked so peaceful that it was hard to resist the temptation to go to sleep, but she couldn't. If the woman woke up and they were both sleeping, it wouldn't be the slightest challenge for her to kill them both or escape and find the police, she had to stay awake. There was no other option.

It wasn't long until Vera was sound asleep next to her, the only sound filling the room being the sound of the two female’s calm breathing. Occasionally one of them would move a little but apart from that, Esther was left alone with her own thoughts.

There was so much the woman needed to try and figure out but it was impossible since the only thing replaying in her mind, over and over again, was the image of Jacob dead in her arms. He had everything figured out at all times, meanwhile she had no clue of what to do.

The tears she had been pushing back slowly started rolling down her cheeks and eventually, the woman started sobbing quietly, not wanting to wake anyone up. It felt as if her whole world had been turned upside down. She wasn't ready for all this responsibility that had suddenly been thrown on her.

She felt small and helpless for the first time in very long, like a little child. She needed Jacob there to guide her but he was no more. She had watched him die and now she had a whole, well more like half, gang to lead and she didn't want to let him down by failing to protect and lead them. It was enough that she'd already failed him once by not being able to protect him from the cops. Twice even if you thought about it, she couldn't even give him a proper burial, she had just had to leave his body there, leave it as if it was nothing but trash.

The woman pulled her knees up to her chest as she continued with her silent sobbing. There was no way she could do this yet she had to, she couldn't just leave these people, it was her duty to protect them now, she couldn't let them down, she couldn't just leave.

William Brant | 19 y/o | Male | Member

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

His whole body felt sore and his head pounded like someone was beating it with a hammer repeatedly.

The young man's naked body shivered from the cold air of the room as he pulled his arms closer, hugging himself tightly.

The side of his face burned in pain from the wound he had suffered the day earlier. What had he done? His mind felt completely blank. It couldn’t be..?

It had to be though… Who else?

Was he really back in their hands? Had he not rid himself of his torturers? How had they survived and found him again?

Involuntarily, a broken sob forced its way out, tears already having started to fall down his cheeks. He couldn't go through this again. He wasn't the one who had gotten himself into this whole mess, yet he was the one who had to pay for it. He had already paid for it though, more than he had ever owed and yet he was here again.

There was no escape.

There was no way out.

William had tried everything, he had watched them all take their last breath and still they had come back. It didn't make sense.

“I killed ya…” the young man mumbled quietly. He should know better than to piss off whoever of them it could be, but he also knew that the torture would be the same either way.

“I killed ya so how the hell are ya here?!” William sobbed out, “Leave me be already! I gave everythin’ just please leave me alone…” the young man begged through broken sobs.

He hugged himself tighter, nails digging into his own skin as he tried to silence his own sobs while awaiting how the other person would respond to his little outburst.

Silence.

Nothing?

He was so sure there was another person in the room yet he got no response.

The seconds passed painfully slowly as he waited further.

When there still was no response, William slowly opened his eye, it slowly adjusting to the light in the room. He was laying on his side in a bed, he had no memory of how he had gotten here.

Where the hell was he? Who was with him and why would they not leave him alone? Had he really not suffered enough yet?

His gaze found the floor, starting to look over the clothes on the floor. His heart pounded in his chest, feeling as if it would jump out through his ribcage at any second. What had happened last night? Or rather how had he let this happen? How had he allowed himself to fall right into their arms? Had he learnt nothing? Was he really still that weak and pathetic kid he had been back then?

Wait, was that..?

His eye widened as it landed on a black hat on the floor. Slicker’s black hat.

Quickly, despite his sore body, William spun around in bed, a look of near panic on his face.

There, on the edge opposite to him sat Slicker. He did not look well though, far from it, and not the usual hungover unwell. He couldn't put his finger on it, most likely due to the pounding in his head and the pain rippling through his body from his sudden movement paired with the panic and guilt that was filling him up and starting to eat him from inside.

Not only had Slicker without a doubt heard him talking but he had mistaken Slicker of all people for one of the men from his past.

Slowly, William began sitting up, his gaze dropping from Slicker to the wrinkled and messy sheets. “I’m sorry…” he mumbled quietly as he wiped his tears. “I’m sorry,” he repeated a little louder, “I-I was just rambling,” he lied, biting his lower lip harshly as he avoided looking at the other man.

The young man’s head still pounded but he did his best to ignore it as he searched his brain for memories of the night before. How had he allowed this to happen?

After some hesitation, William slowly scooted closer to Slicker, worried that the other man would try to move away from him, worried that he was regretting what had happened between them and that things would get weird between them now. Slicker was one of the people he trusted the most and now he might just have ruined it all.

Once he was sitting next to the other man, William grabbed the covers and pulled them around himself, letting out a low sigh. He didn't know what to do, how was he supposed to fix this, what was he supposed to say? What would Slicker think of him now…?

William carefully lifted his gaze, glancing over at the brown-haired man next to him. Slowly, memories of the night before were starting to come back to him but he still didn't understand how they had ended up in bed together or how he had allowed for this. Slicker was his friend and now he was scared his actions would cause him to lose Slicker.

For a second, William’s gaze landed on the upper arm of Slicker and he felt how the guilt grew inside of him once again. Maybe he hadn't just allowed this to happen? Maybe he had tricked Slicker into it…? But how? Why?

Absolutely nothing was making sense now, not even as his memories were starting to come back.

“Slicker…” he started, pausing as he searched for the right words to say. Was there even anything such as ‘the right thing’ in this moment though? He felt as if he had messed everything up between them.

“This wasn't supposed to happen… I’m sorry if I led ya on, I honestly don't remember much right now,” he finally said with a sigh.

After a brief pause, William spoke again, his voice weak and nothing more than a whisper this time, “Please don't hate me…”

He could stand having almost any other person hating him, but not Slicker. He considered the man his closest and best friend, and the thought of the man hating him was practically unbearable. He had made a mistake, a big one, and he really really hoped that it hadn't ruined everything between them. Slicker was someone he could always rely on, be it to figure out a plan or just to lighten the mood, Slicker could do it, but this situation was unlike anything they had ever faced together.

“Slicker” | 21 | Male | Member

Time dragged on and soon his lips were quivering from his laughter. Once he finally collected himself, he took a few deep breaths, pulling the cigarette from his lips to take in semi-fresh air since the room was already tainted by smoke. There was not a single sound in the town except the faint crackling of embers on the edge of his cigarette every time he took a drag and the rumbling of voices belonging to unimportant people coming from downstairs. Slicker was already wishing for the day to come to a close so he could take the pilgrimage downstairs to the bar. Should he be drinking this much? No, definitely not, but it was better to taste the warm booze down his throat than be reminded of death’s cold hands and the coldness of the room.

Though a breeze would pass through the thin walls and open windows onto his semi-naked body, Slicker never shuttered once because he was too preoccupied with his thoughts of last night to remember how cold he was at that moment. In his mind, while trying to force down how he failed not only William but his whole gang in one fell swoop, he had come up with every possible thing William could say upon waking up, a response to this, and a plan. To a certain extent, it was reassuring to make plans like these. Slicker could distract himself by thinking of the future and different outcomes and making the best possible one even if some of his answers for dealing with the situation as a whole might not have been fully sound.

Of course, to handle the overall situation was an entirely different task rather than just planning the moment William awoke. There were plenty of things Slicker could do to save them both, but most did not seem viable. Slicker could always break off his friendship with William entirely, but with the amount of time they spent together and how William might be his only remaining member of the gang would make it hard to do so. Slicker could hook up with that one woman he had met last night— what was her name even?— to mold into William’s mind that Slicker was not interested in him, but William would definitely hate him for it because he always seemed to hate Slicker whenever he mentioned anything of the sort. Slicker could tell William the truth… that deep down he liked guys and that he liked— was obsessed with? No. Fixated on? No, not that either. That he was a fucking fairy for— William, but Slicker would be called a freak, William would hate him, and if the rest of his gang were somehow still alive, he would lose them too the moment William told them.

Slicker should just press the cold metal to his temple. Click the hammer. It was easier. He had felt it before so why not just commit?

Damn… my cigarette is going out…

Slicker sighed as he pulled the cigarette from his lips, moving to put it out of his arm until he heard faint sobbing.

Slicker paused and looked behind him at William. William now had his back to Slicker and his body went tense when he realized that the man was awake. Taking a deep breath in, Slicker prepared for whatever William could possibly—

“I killed ya…”

What?

Slicker froze in place. Suddenly he was overtaken by anger and fear. Was he still dreaming? His empty hand dug his nails into his knee. Why would he be dreaming of this now— now of all times?? He was tense as he held his breath. He was in absolutely no state to be criticized by his own romanticism and twisted mind laughing at him. Why now, why now, why—

“I killed ya so how the hell are ya here?! Leave me be already! I gave everythin’ just please leave me alone…”

Slicker paused as he listened to William’s sobs.

This was real.

If this was real…, what the hell was William muttering? The more Slicker thought about it, it would make sense if it had nothing to do with him and instead something William had dealt with long before the two of them met. It was something from his past.

Every member of the gang, from Del to Jacob, had their own baggage. None of their traumas or past life mattered when they joined the gang and everyone kept it as such. Honestly, the more Slicker thought about it, the more he realized that he barely knew the old lives of the people he had spent a little over two years of his life with. The only person who he knew remotely anything about was Vera. She was different from most of the others. Her scars were eye catching and so much more noticeable than any Slicker had seen on himself or the others. Vera was open about what caused it all too. Whether it was confidence or just having more time to heal from her wounds, she spoke so openly about her past. Slicker almost envied her for that.

William, despite his closeness to Slicker, had been the most tight lipped about his previous life out of any other member and this was the only time Slicker had ever seen him so… so… broken. Guilt welled in Slicker’s chest. Even if this all was not a dream and William was just reacting this way because of a past occurrence, Slicker still felt responsible for this outburst since, in all the times Slicker and William shared a tent or room, nothing like this had ever happened as far as he was aware. Would William have been better off if Slicker had just a little more composure? Bought two rooms instead of one? Said ‘no’ or done the right thing?

Reaching out, Slicker was nervous to even look in his direction as if the very idea of potentially meeting the man’s eyes would shatter any remnants of their friendship. Just as he was about to place a gentle hand on William’s shoulder, the younger man whipped around to face Slicker before Slicker had enough time to retreat. As he had been caught in the act of reaching out for William, Slicker paused. William’s eyes were glossy with tears just like his own had been not long ago. His hand was hovering momentarily, in a desperate grasping position, before he closed his hand into a fist and slowly retracted.

“It’s alrigh’,” Slicker quickly rushed out his lips, trying to say anything to reassure William and get those tears out of the other’s eye. “It’s alrigh’; everyone rambles.”

Slicker held his eyes on William’s for as long as he could until the sight grew too gut-wrenching to bear. Looking away, Slicker could feel the bed press and bend under William’s weight as he moved closer to Slicker and the bed creaked to announce his presence as if Slicker were not keenly aware. His eyebrows knotted themselves, his left one beginning to twitch as that old habit of his returned to reveal his anxiety and stress. He could not breathe with William next to him. Not after what he did.

Slicker’s green, greedy eyes drifted to indulge in William’s form as he was draped in only the pale sheets. He felt sick of his own brain for being so accustomed to looking William over constantly. Did William even know the way Slicker looked at him? He supposed not because if so, William would not be friends with him now, huh? As Slicker looked at William up and down to see if the man was in any great pain, Slicker finally had the courage to look into the other’s eye. William was staring at his arm. Under his eye of judgment, Slicker felt ashamed of his old and fresh scars, discreetly placing his hand over the area though he still was unable to hide all of it given its sheer size.

“Hey, my eyes are up here…,” Slicker mumbled with a faint chuckle as he looked back away from William. Slicker suddenly could no longer stand to be right by the man’s side as if the longer he sat near him even, the more he corrupted and hurt William.

The bottoms of his feet were as hard as the wood floors he walked on, the circular scar that started on his chest had pierced through to his shoulder blade, and on the back of his forearms burn marks were melted into his skin. He felt like his crimes, his sins, his everything was exposed for William to mock. Slicker picked up and put on his button up and hat as quickly as possible.

William said his name.

Slicker froze.

There was a short pause.

“This wasn't supposed to happen… I’m sorry if I led ya on, I honestly don't remember much right now.”

The way people worded things could tell a lot about how they were feeling in a moment. Even with his back to William, it was clear how he chose every word carefully and how each felt so heavy on his mind. ‘This’ not ‘sex’ or ‘last night’ showed William’s hesitance.’Supposed to’ could just mean that William did not expect it, but it was most definitely saying that he knew how it was not good to be a homosexual like Slicker and how it was wrong. Finally, William saying that he ‘led Slicker on’ implied that last night was not at all something he was comfortable with and that he felt responsible for. By his wording alone, Slicker knew William felt it was not only his fault, but that he did not even want to do that with Slicker. Even though Slicker had prepared himself for scenarios far worse than this, it still stung to know this. While before he might have had that brief fleeting hope…

“Please don't hate me…”

“The fuck’s that ‘pposed mean?”

The words came out before Slicker could even stop himself as he looked back at William having not been able to fasten a single button as he was too preoccupied with listening intently to every word William said. Before Slicker could get a full grasp of himself, he sat back down next to William, put out the cigarette in the full ashtray instead of his arm, and grabbed both of his shoulders tightly.

“Look, we’re partners. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that, ya catch on?” Slicker looked dead serious for once in his life. No smile, no lies, just an entirely honest moment that Slicker could not have fabricated if he tried. “Because we are partners we ain’t gonna talk about this and you ain’t gotta worry because it won’t happen again.” Slicker paused, letting go with a small sigh as he began to button up his shirt. Now— now— he was taking the time to think about his words as evident in his pause and confident smile returning in an effort to reassure William. “We were both just a bit pent up and things got out of hand. That’s my fault, not yours, got it?” He was not taking ‘no’ for an answer there. Slicker paused briefly as chuckled dismissively while he was looking back at William. “And don’t worry about those two lunkheads who have our jobs for us. I’ll tell ‘em you need the day off— which you are taking off by the way— I’ll give ‘em a good lie before I go off and do whatever you signed me up for. Hunting if I remember correctly, right?” Slicker smiled confidently as if he was not falling apart at the seams. “If it’s huntin’, it’ll be easy enough to earn quite a few bucks!”

| Roxie Sweet | 24 | Female | Ex-Member of Red’s Gang |

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It wasn’t dark, but it also wasn’t light. Roxie’s first instincts upon waking up were to immediately open her eyes. No thoughts, no trying to remember where she was or how she got there. She didn’t need to think. The answer was pretty clear.

Her eyes settled upon the roof first, a dark maple wood in color that she noticed matched with the walls as her eyes trailed farther down the room. Everything slowly came back to her in a blur, but from what she could remember the two idiots had run off, she’d had a few drinks or something, and then Ollie dragged her up to their room. Maybe Ashley coming over to talk to her every now and then when she was alone… That was it. Nothing else came to mind.

A yawn, a stretch, and then she was dragging herself upward, leaning against the wall as she tried to support herself. Now she had a better view of the room. With its dark maple roof and walls, the bed, a few tables and chairs. And Ollie.

Propped up on a sofa with his knees pressed to his chest, sitting on one side of the couch while Gwynn laid on the other, her head laid against his legs. The young dog’s eyes were open, unlike Ollie’s, and she stared right at Roxie, glaring like she always did.

To any other person she probably looked quite frightening, with a high stance and cold eyes. But the dog had a heart of gold, and was only being protective of her owners beyond imagination. Even around people she knew Gwynn was alert, swift to action. A good dog. A smart dog at that.

Sadie on the other hand was curled up at Roxie’s feet, sleeping softly. Typical, Roxie grinned, slowly pulling herself from the blankets, so she wouldn’t wake the puppy up, and sitting at the edge of the bed. If her memory was working right they’d have to go down for breakfast soon, give the two boys some work, and then do whatever they wanted for the rest of the day. Sounded simple enough, but something would probably happen to turn one plan into two, or three, or maybe four if luck wasn’t on their side.

The red-head waited a few minutes, staring at the wall again. Every now and then she could see Ollie stirring out of the corner of her eye, but he never got up. He was definitely awake though, because when she turned her head fully to look over at him he was staring at her, with such a blank expression that she didn’t say anything, just stared back. His eyes held dark circles under them and he looked beyond tired.

For a while they just stared at each other, neither moving, nor making a sound. Till Roxie broke the silence, “Um… did you… sleep good?.. Heh..”

It took a few seconds for an answer to arrive, but eventually Ollie titled up his head. “... No.”

He didn’t say it in his normal annoyed, agitated, condescending way. He was quiet, sad sounding. Roxie was about to respond when he started speaking again, “my face hurts, I’m tired, I slept maybe an hour. It was forever before they stopped. The noise, it went on, and on, and on, and no matter what, I couldn’t block it out.”

“Ah… um…” Roxie searched for words, but the absolute embarrassment and humiliation radiating off Ollie had her extremely curious. “Um… what did you hear?”

He paused for another few seconds, tipping back his head to the point she couldn’t see what kind of expression he was making. “Don’t. Ask.” was his response. “If you’re curious, ask them yourself. But I never want to think about this again. Wouldn’t be surprised if they could hear us now… can’t even whisper without it echoing through the damn halls… We’re going to be staying with one of my siblings next time, I’m not staying here again.”

“Alright, if you’d like that… I’ll brush my hair before we go downstairs…” Roxie could take a good guess on what he'd heard, judging on the fact they were sleeping in a saloon, with all that happened in these kinds of places, but she wasn’t going to push Ollie any further. He didn’t seem in the mood at all. As she finally dragged herself to her feet, she stumbled a moment, before regaining her balance. Gwynn had gotten up as well, nudging Ollie in the shoulder gently with her nose before leaping from the sofa and trotting to Roxie’s side. The red-headed woman bent down slightly to quickly pet her, before glancing over at Ollie. He didn’t say anything though, just leaned his head back and closed his eyes again.

Neither said anything else for a while after that. Roxie had rummaged through her bag, found her hairbrush, and now she sat in front of the mirror gently pulling it through her hair. Gwynn has sat down beside her, carefully watching over Roxie as she fixed her tangled mess. Every now and then when the brush caught on a knot and the woman swore quietly, Gwynn’s ears would perk and she’d nudge the red-head softly in the leg with her forehead, all while she still looked like she was glaring, judging every movement Roxie made. She couldn’t understand if the dog was aware of her own angry expression or if that's just what she looked like, but in a way it was kind of funny. Finally finishing with her hair, Roxie stored the brush away again. She’d just change her clothes tomorrow since she’d probably get dirty anyway, whatever they were doing, and it didn’t look like Ollie changed either, in the however many hours he’d been awake. Looking back at him, she turned in his direction and stood there a moment before smiling as he opened his eyes again.

He didn’t look ready to leave yet at all, but regardless, the man sighed, before slowly pushing himself off the sofa. “Lets go downstairs then. Don’t bother knocking on the other two’s door, they can come down when they want.” he mumbled, before moving past her, and stopping next to the bed where he gently picked up Sadie who was still sleeping peacefully and handed her to Roxie. The puppy gave a big yawn before opening her eyes, though she seemed quite comfortable where Roxie held her, so she didn’t make a fuss.

Gwynn had left Roxie’s side and was now back with Ollie, waiting patiently as he opened the door before bolting out in front of him, stopping just at his ankles and looking back for Roxie and Sadie. Though the two were already right behind them, ready and waiting to get down to breakfast.

-

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Lucile Mason | 27 | Female | Ex-Member of Red’s Gang |

-

So it seems I’ve ended up in some kind of gang. Don’t know how long I’m staying, or if I’m staying at all, or if I’ll have to stay. If you never get this letter I guess they might have shot me, but I don’t die easily, do I?

You can only get mauled, stabbed, and shot so many times before you run out of blood. But it seems I haven’t run dry just yet.

I don’t want to put too much in this letter, but if I see you anytime soon I’ll tell you all about it.

I cut my hair again.

Tell Molly I said howdy.

To, Victor

With Sincerity, Lucile

The sun had hardly risen by the time Lucile finished her letter. Sitting on the old rotten stool she’d sat in yesterday, pulled up to the small dresser next to the old broken mirror. Any other table in the room was too far gone for her to be able to write on it, so she’d used the dresser instead. It worked well, maybe a bit uncomfortable, but at least it wouldn’t potentially snap under the weight of her writing. The last thing she’d want right now besides getting killed was to fall through the roof.

But with her letter written, she now had nothing to do. She’d been up for hours trying to find any little thing to keep her busy while she waited for everyone else to awaken, even though she was pretty sure she was still the only one up. For how little Lucile had slept, maybe only 3-5 hours, she surely didn’t feel tired. In the few hours the woman had been awake she’d been able to fix her hair, which looked better than she had expected, written her letter, and even cleaned up around the room just to keep herself active. The amount of dust in this house was enough to make anyone ill. It's obvious the man who’d lived in it before never cleaned, keeping it in its filthy, cobweb ridden state with not a bucket and mop in sight. But now, she was folding up her letter and sticking it into a somewhat crumpled up envelope, which she’d written her same ending phrase on the back of. If she was lucky enough, this letter would make it to Victor, but she was planning it one way or another. Death wasn’t an option. Not here, not now.

Alice An Taylor | 27 | Female | Civilian

Pain filled her head.

Well, maybe “filled” was not the right word to describe it.

It was as if someone filled a bowl of water and it was overflowing except the water was her pain. Alright, that was a bad analogy… Well… It felt like her head was a blistering and smoldering fire that was burning the rest of her body. No, even that would be inaccurate. It was more like someone had shoved a sawed off shotgun into her head and shot her from the inside out. Maybe there was a better way to explain her pain, but she could only wallow in her agony as the light pouring in from the shades made things worse. The bed was springy and prodding into her and there were no sheets over her. Not to mention the smell! God, whose bed was she in that it smelled like a mixture of the fishy harbor from Plymouth and the muck-filled town of Purepoint? Clearly someone with no taste. This was why she ought to be more careful with the people she pulled into her thrall. After all, if she just seduced everyone, all the lowlifes of the world would also have to belong to her and she would have to be their bather, feeder, and handler. She generally liked having someone entirely under her, but God above was it draining when she had to baby them. The musk and mildew and rotting smell was absolutely rancid and the only reason she did not wake up instantly was because her head was still pounding.

Finally everything grew so unbearable that she had to sit up, holding her head in her hands as she rubbed her head. As her eyes adjusted to the light and her hand went to rub her head, she froze.

What the hell…?

Her fingertips just barely grazed the side of her head only to find a large sore that bulged out of her head, causing her to flinch upon contact. How did she even get this in the first place?

Then she remembered.

Looking around the room, her eyes landed on two familiar faces in the bed next to hers.

Those were the last two women she saw before she blacked out.

Alice had never seen those two women before that day and she was good with faces. However, she could have sworn that she saw one of the women peering out of the window of the bank, aiming for the police with her gun. A shiver ran down her spine. Why was she here? What had she done to get herself out of this situation? Looking over the two, one had burn scars across half her body with her arms outstretched and snoring softly while the other, the blonde one she recognized more clearly, was right against her with a gun in the holster on her hip.

Lord, this cannot be how I die…

Her eyes darted around the room as she cautiously slipped out of bed. There were shutters covering the windows and creaking floorboards beneath her. Careful to not creak the floors too loud while watching the women out of the corner of her eyes, Alice rested her hands on the dresser below the window. Peering out the window, bullets of sweat dripped down her neck as not a single house was near this house. They were in the middle of nowhere. Trees surrounded them and there was no way out of this area without getting lost and dying alone and hungry in woods far from home. This would be how she died.

Unless…

Alice looked back at the blonde woman, more specifically the gun on her holster. Creeping closer, Alice cringed as the floorboards gave away her position as her face twisted in a painful grimace.

Alice placed a hand on the woman’s hip and the other on her gun.

Looking up from the gun to the stranger’s face, Alice watched for any signs of alertness. Her heart was pounding. One wrong move and she was dead.

Slowly, Alice slipped the gun out of the holster.

Delaney O’Conner | 15 y/o | Male | Newcomer

Slowly Delaney started waking up, his sleep had been restless, the events of yesterday playing over and over in his head. He had found a room with Aiden to sleep in but even the knowledge that him, Vera and Esther were in the house didn't make him feel any less uneasy. Yesterday had been more than eventful, he had watched people he cared about die and he'd nearly been shot himself.

The young boy had spent hours just staring at the wall trying to fall asleep and once he had, it had been everything but peaceful, the boy having stirred in his sleep to the point that the bedsheets had become all tangled, now laying in a crumpled up ball by his feet.

Sweat stained his back as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, his hair even more of a mess than usual. He looked over at Aiden's still sleeping form. He sighed and looked around the room.

Del slowly got up, not wanting to wake Aiden, he didn't want to disturb his sleep, mostly because he knew it would probably make the other boy grumpy.

Quietly he left the room, stepping carefully to not make any loud sounds. He still hadn't thanked Esther for saving him yesterday.

With soft and careful steps, the black-haired boy threaded through the house, peeking into the rooms to find where Esther had settled for the night.

Looking through the house didn't help his uneasiness. It felt as if he'd see the face of the old man behind every corner. He knew the man was dead but it didn't settle his nerves, last night had really scared him and he wanted nothing but to forget it already and move on.

Pushing open the final door he saw Esther and Vera, but also the passed out stranger, who was no longer passed out…

Del froze in the doorway, already half a step in through the half opened door. Right next to Esther stood the blonde with a gun in her hands.

Del stared at the woman with wide eyes, he could not lose any more people. They had fought hard to survive. Esther had gotten them to safety despite losing everything, she had saved them. Now he had to save her and Vera.

But what could he do? He had no gun, he had nothing, he couldn't do nothing.

“P-please don't,” he stuttered out, his voice no louder than a whisper.

“Don't kill them,” he pleaded quietly, shaking his head slowly. “They aren't bad people, we aren't, I swear. Please don't kill them.”

His gaze fluctuated between the two sleeping women and the one now holding a gun, just hoping that his pleading would get through and have some effect on her. It was all he could think to do at the moment and he prayed to God that it would work, or that it would at least buy enough time for Esther or Vera to wake up and do something.

William Brant | 19 y/o | Male | Member

William had his gaze fixed on the ground, not daring to look at Slicker after the man had gotten up. He felt so stupid for all of this, he felt so sure that he had ruined everything.

When he felt the tight grip of Slicker’s hands on his shoulders, he almost flinched, his gaze snapping up to meet Slicker’s.

“Look, we’re partners. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that, ya catch on?”

William couldn't do much more than nod in response. Slicker had such a serious look on his face, one he had never seen before, usually the man always had that stupid smirk on his face, that stupid smirk that William had grown to love. That stupid smirk that could annoy him and drive him crazy but at the same time, it had a comforting effect on him. That stupid damn smirk that belonged to no other than Slicker, his Slicker.

“Because we are partners we ain’t gonna talk about this and you ain’t gotta worry because it won’t happen again.”

Once again, William nodded, his gaze falling to the floor this time. He hated it, but he almost felt disappointed at Slicker’s words. It would be a lie to say that this wasn't something he hadn't fantasized about before but of course, not like this. His mind was a blur and he couldn't remember much of what had happened between them. Despite Slicker's effort to not make it seem awkward between them, William couldn't help but to feel as if everything had changed.

Not only that but Slicker had gotten a glimpse into his past, something which he definitely didn't want. His past was a secret he kept for only himself. Whenever he got questions about his missing eye or fingers, he would avoid it like the plague. It wasn't something he needed to burden others with, he didn't want their looks of concern and pity or meaningless attempts at comforting words. But most importantly, he didn't want Slicker to see him differently.

Hearing Slicker blame himself didn't make him feel better, it filled him with guilt. He knew Slicker and even if he couldn't remember much of last night, he knew that Slicker wouldn't have done this if William hadn’t allowed it, and given how drunk he'd been the night before, he had no doubt that he had allowed it, after all, this was something he had fantasized about before but it had been supposed to be just that, a fantasy.

“And don’t worry about those two lunkheads who have our jobs for us. I’ll tell ‘em you need the day off— which you are taking off by the way— I’ll give ‘em a good lie before I go off and do whatever you signed me up for. Hunting if I remember correctly, right?”

William lifted his head to look up at Slicker, his mouth open to protest but no words came, partly because he knew Slicker wouldn't take a no but also because he had no energy to argue about it. While a day off would have been nice any other day, he did not want to be alone with himself and his thoughts today.

The brown-haired man let himself fall down on his side laying down in the bed with the sheets still draped around his body.

“Okay,” he agreed with a soft sigh, staring down at the floor with an empty gaze. “Stay safe,” he mumbled quietly. Despite everything that had happened and all the thoughts running through his head, he still cared deeply about Slicker.

The last thing William wanted was for the man to leave but he couldn't ask him to stay, everything was complicated enough and despite Slicker’s best efforts to make himself seem okay, William could see that he wasn't and he guessed that the man needed time alone.

The young man closed his eyes wishing for sleep to return to him and that when he woke up, all problems would have disappeared, but instead, his mind presented him with images of his past. Feeling his throat clog up, William turned around, his back towards Slicker and his teeth clenched tightly together from the pain that the movement had caused him.

He didn't want to be so vulnerable in front of Slicker, he really didn't. He felt pathetic showing this side of himself, he should be strong, he wanted to be strong. He didn't want the events of his past to plague him like they did which is why he would constantly push them away but today he couldn't, they just kept popping up, playing over and over again. They had nothing to do with what had happened with Slicker, yet they were still there, reminding him of the origins of nearly every single one of his scars, both physical and mental.