Charles Smith x Reader

Forty-Seven

With a grunt you crashed to the ground. Pain stabbed into your shoulder, bones twisted and for a brief moment your sight turned dark.

The ringing sound of a bell filled your ears. Pain pounded against your temple as you rolled to the side and managed to regain your sight.

Nausea made your head spin.

Right in front of you bared a man his teeth. His uniform was torn and blood ran down his face. He was injured but still alive enough to know that you were after Clark.

It seemed like the sheriff had the highest rank around hear. That meant the others were obligated to protect him. It also meant that Clark had a good chance to get nearby groups to help them out.

Your eyes jumped to the house behind which Clark had disappeared. He was nowhere in sight but judging by the fact that you had injured him he couldn't have made it far.

Your attention returned to the man in front of you.

"Fine, you first then.", you spit the taste of blood onto the ground and curled your nose.

The man snickered, revealing teeth covered in blood. His moustache was all messy. Dirt covered the emblems of his uniform.

"Do you think this is a cause worth dying for?", you asked and tilted your head. "I've seen some of you run for it. I won't chase you if you choose to as well."

He sucked in a sharp breath.

"Run from savages?!", he asked in a way that told that he burned for this cause more than it was healthy.

He pulled his sabre. The long blade was one of the things that the soldiers were handed as their base equipment. They were intended for defence when it came to close combat.

But it was an open secret that many, if not most, sharpened the blades to an extend that they cut through bones with ease. Some even kept a list of the ones they beheaded by horse.

Yeah no, there was no way you would risk it and get any closer to him. Your hand slipped down your leg to grab your revolver. And your heart stopped.

And it wasn't there. The revolver was gone.

A shiver crawled down your spine. You looked around. There it was, right behind the man's leg. It must have slipped out of the holster as he had wrestled you down.

"Fuck.", a soft curse escaped you.

He seemed to understand. With a quick glance over his shoulder he checked to confirm what he thought.

"Helpless?", he asked and approached with his sable in hand.

Your eyes reflected in the shiny metal and showed you your own face. Even though the beating of your heart was in your throat you had hoped that it wasn't visible.

But what your face showed you said otherwise. Fear, there was so much fear written across your eyes. And you hated it because all you truly felt was anger.

Your fingers flinched as he took another step. One swing and you'd be done for. No second chances. That blade looked so sharp it could have cut air apart.

The thought of cold steel stuck in your flesh send shivers down your spine. Swallowing hard, you took a quick step back.

He closed the newly opened gap with two quick steps. Suddenly he was close enough to reach you with his weapon.

And he seemed to know that as well. So, without wasting a second, he swung at you, aiming straight for your face.

The hairs in the back of your neck stood up straight as a soft breeze caressed your nose. Goosebumps chased up and down your body.

For a brief second your mind tried to trick you into thinking that he had struck and now your nose was gone. But that was just your mind trying to make a fool of you.

Cursing, you stumbled back and tried to bring as much space between you and him as possible. Turning your back on him and running would have been a foolish thing to try.

You stumbled. It felt like you were about to crash to the ground.

He swung at you again. You dug, slid to the side and struck. With your teeth clenched you jumped forward to grab him by the arm.

A hiss crossed his lips as he tried to shake you off. He threw himself back with all his weight and managed to make you falter.

You lost your footing, not strong enough to resist the entirety of his weight and crashed to the ground once more.

He landed right on top of you. Air was pressed out your lungs and paralysed you for a second.

It was only a second but long enough to make you drop your guard for long enough. All at once a cold blade pressed against your throat.

Your hands shot up but he punched you twice. Pain tore your lips apart and the taste of blood covered your tongue.

With a grunt, you let your hands sink back. Your eyes locked with his. If it were for you would have killed him as soon as you had the chance to.

But he didn't. Instead, he enjoyed this moment. Perhaps even a little too much.

The way he looked at you was a kind of satisfaction to him. He wanted to see who had the hypocrisy to try and fight a battle that couldn't be won.

"All this for what?", he asked, eyes narrowed. "A bunch of savages? I've seen your house as it burned down. It was a good life."

The beating of your heart hammered against your rib cage. It felt like it was about to jump out and shatter your bones into thousands of pieces.

"You'd never understand.", you bared your teeth, refusing to be afraid in the eye of death.

You choose this. You knew the risks. And if this was your limit then so be it.

"How?", a hint of honest curiosity appeared in his blue eyes.

"Because you don't want to understand."