{occatio - a harrowing ordeal that can leave many traumatised.}
y/n's pov:
Once we had found Lincoln's watch, we tracked a number of footprints headed towards the direction of a large lake.
The ground every few metres was coated in blood, and from following that trail, we found ourselves in an extremely interesting situation.
"Do you see that?" Newt asked, clearly surprised and hesitant. He kept his voice low, his words quiet so they wouldn't hear us.
I nodded, because I did see it. I was looking right at the people who joined together in the circle below us, surrounding the large fire in the middle of the pit.
Lincoln stood shakily in between these two large men, both heavily armed with spears and knives, holding him up as he cried and sobbed against the wall. The boy was heavily chained, and his mouth was covered by a gag.
A lady with long hair stood in the centre, close to the fire and the flames, facing a whining Lincoln. She was dressed differently to the rest; a long trench coat draped over her shoulders and down to her feet, she wore protective eye goggles and was coated head to toe in golden jewel accessories.
She looked stunningly homeless.
The people in the circle didn't speak, not even to each other. They just watched the lady in the middle, as she added more wood to the fire underneath what appeared to be a hog roast set up. However, there was no hog.
I instantly thought of the worst.
"Are they... going to eat him?" I asked, nervously, quietly.
Newt looked over to me, perplexed and frightened. "No, they wouldn't."
I peered at him like he was stupid. "We don't know these people, Newt. They look like they're going to fucking eat him." I whisper hissed at the man, watching him as he watched the people below.
I took a deep breath in after he didn't answer straight away. "How many are there?"
He scanned over the crowd, eyeing every individual stranger. "Eighteen. There's too many of them, y/n, we can't take them all on at once." Newt explained.
I knew the look he was giving me. "Of course we can." I said, getting ready to stand. "Follow my lead, don't shoot unless you have to." I said, quietly, before standing to my feet, and grabbing hold of the gun that was already slung over my back.
Newt immediately protested. "No, y/n stop! Don't-"
I was already lining up my shot, and firing at the wall, directly past the leader's head, just close enough to her ear for her to hear it and turn around to see me.
She stopped whatever she was saying to meet my eyes, and she grinned. "Now who do we have here? What's your name, lovely?" She cooed at me, smirking and laughing.
The others around her still didn't move, didn't laugh.
I aimed the gun at her head, listening to Lincoln's muffled cries for help as he notices myself above.
I kept my eyes on her. "I'm just here for my friend - I don't want to hurt anyone, but if he's not untied and released to us within the next few seconds, I will begin shooting you all, one by one."
I could feel Newt beside me, aiming his gun too at the crowd of people who stood below us.
The woman in the crowd laughed, chuckled even at what I had said.
She turned to me, her jacket spinning around as her body did so too. Her English appeared broken but her voice was steady. "He is not yours. He is ours, now.. I cannot give him to you." She said, defiantly, forcefully.
