JESSE (Mcree X Fem Reader) | Completed

Chapter Eighteen: Scarred

You turn as quickly as humanly possible.

"What are you doing??!" Belle yells at you, and you pull a hairpin from your hair and begin to undo the lock of her cell. You're grabbed and pulled back from under your arms, but you manage to shrug them off and finish picking the lock. She runs out, nods at you, and bolts towards the door. "You'll pay for that." You turn to come face to face with Martin. He swings his fist, and it connects with your jaw. You're sent flying into the metal bars of the cell. Bang.

Your head throbs as you're hoisted to your feet. You turn to see Belle give you one final glance. "Find Jesse." you mouth. She nods, and bolts out of the door.

"Get her back here, now." Martin says, and men rush after her. "And you." You give him a death glare. You knew there was no way you could get out of here...

You surrender. You stop struggling. You know you can't escape so you resign yourself to the strong grip of Martin. As he forces your hands behind your back, he leans in towards your face, breath smelling of cigarette smoke and whisky, whispers, "You'll be very sorry you ever met me. Because I'm about to make you wish you'd never been born."

INTENSE GORE WARNING ITS ABOUT TO GET SERIOUS

He forcefully shoves you down the hallway and into a different blood stained room than the one you were forced into before. He throws you into the center of the room, chucking to himself.

"You know, McCree never wanted to torture anyone. He thought it was a little too rough. He thought a clean bullet through the skull would be enough... but it never was." He looks around the room, looking for the correct... instrument to use. He rolls up his sleeves, and brushes his shaggy dusty brown hair out of his face.

"He never did us any good. Ended up ratting us out to Blackwatch. But then again, they weren't any better than us, huh? They taught him how to torture, to maim. He's the best bounty hunter there is now. Taught me everything I know. But I learned better." He picks up a knife from the table across the room. You shudder, but keep your composure. Most importantly you keep your mouth shut.

"Most people brand the ones they imprison. We do it a bit differently around here. You see, most of these guys know how to cut someone open. But me? I know how to brand someone without just burning it into their flesh." He saunters over to you, and ties you onto a table on the other end of the room. It's covered in dry blood and scratch marks.
"You're going to feel every." He punctuates his words by cutting into your arm.
"Last. Mark." You try not to scream as the blood seeps from the three great gashes in your arm.

"That I leave on you. And let me tell you, princess, you're not going to like it." He cuts open the back of your shirt to expose your bare back.

"Now tell me, princess. What do you know about Overwatch?"