Red Dead Redemption II [ one shots ]

"Don't Judge a Book By It's Cover" - A.M (Part One)

Leaning back against the old bar, I took a look around the busy saloon. It was another late night, and the steady rain falling outside seemed to have drawn a bigger crowd than usual.

Some would think my presence odd, as no respectable, innocent young lady should be in found in a bar this late at night.
I smirked, if only they knew.

I was here working. I'd racked up quite the reputation around these parts as a deadly outlaw, and I was here waiting for a certain man.
See, I'm an unusual breed of woman, a black widow of sorts. I was born Irish, and sent to Asia to study weaponry and fighting.
Just part of the family business. I thought dryly.
Like my mother and her sisters before me, I was raised to be an assassin. Trained to be the soul of discretion while absolutely deadly, had equipped me with a set of skills normal girls would never possess. As a result I knew how to seem far more harmless than I was, and it was something that had always worked in my favor.

My mother and I had emigrated here for a new life, but trouble had followed us. My mother had died soon after we arrived, at the hand of one Colm O'Driscoll. He'd killed her as she'd killed his father, years ago in Ireland.
Though I'm well aware revenge is a fool's game– my mother'd beat that into me from a young age– it seemed wrong, to possess the ability to avenge her and simply turn the other cheek.
That's what led me here, to this miserable little town. I was lying in wait, just waiting for Colm O'Driscoll to take his drunk ass out of the saloon.
I turned back to the bar, keeping one eye on the son of a bitch. He was in a particularly rowdy corner of the establishment, knocking back drinks and fondling girls. I gritted my teeth, unable to bear being so close and so far from the man I despised. Job's almost done. I'd turn the body in, and gain the reward.

Normally I wasn't one for poaching other outlaws– but in this case I would relish the opportunity. I smiled, taking a sip of whiskey. The money would be enough for me disappear.

Movement flickered in the corner of my eye and I slowly turned, taking in the sight of three men entering the saloon. They were armed and kind of filthy– looking far from innocent. Despite their roughness, all three were intriguing. One looked almost handsome, all mysterious with his hat pulled low. But there was no room for that kind of thinking in my line of work. I'd been a lone wolf for a long time, it's easier that way.

I turned back to focus on my quarry, and noticed his corner had become slightly subdued with the new arrivals. Colm's eyes were on the trio of men who'd just entered, and his face had transformed into an antagonistic snarl.
A strange lull came over the saloon, the type of peace that only comes before something big and bad. My hand settled on the handle of my revolver, as I knocked back the rest of my drink. The bartender eyed me warningly, obviously thinking I'd better get out or I'd get hurt. Don't worry, It won't be me who's hurting.

I moved my gaze over to the three strangers, leaning on the end of the bar near me. They weren't oblivious to the crackle of tension in the air, and their eyes were on Colm, as if daring him to make a move.
I watched as Colm slowly uncurled himself from his chair, swaying slightly. "DUTCH VAN DER LINDE. YOU BASTARD."

With those words all hell broke loose. The innocent few in the saloon ran for cover, while a bloody fight broke out between Colm's bunch, and the three mysterious men.

I leaned against the bar, debating my options. As a young woman, no one was paying me much attention– they were too focused on their grudge match.
I spied Colm tussling with one of the three men. They were on the floor near me, grappling. Colm seemed to have the advantage, and as the other two strangers were tied up with the gang of Colm's men, it didn't seem like anyone would be around to help. I decided to act, thinking now is as a good a time for revenge as any.
I strode up, and kicked Colm off the mustached man. He hit the floor, falling on his back with a grunt. Colm took a good look at my face, and his lips curled in an evil grin. "You're that bitch's daughter!" He exclaimed, slowly pulling himself onto his knees. "I've heard all about you." I didn't bother replying, quick as a flash I'd drawn my weapon, and relished the fear in his eyes right before I shot him between them.