Red Dead Redemption II [ one shots ]

Bathtime - A.M [Part Three]

I clutched my cloak tighter around my shoulders, trying not to dwell on the sounds I kept hearing from the forest around me.
I knew I was probably psyching myself out– there was nothing in the woods but leaves and dirt. It was just so goddamn dark.

Amelia and I had ridden hard, but she'd started to tire after a while, so I was giving her a rest. We were about halfway between town and my cabin, and the slower pace had given me a greater awareness of my current vulnerability. I patted Amelia, more to soothe myself than her.
I wondered about Mr. Morgan, Was he still waiting at the hotel? I snorted, most definitely not. He probably got fed up and went to the saloon.
Lost in thought, I almost didn't hear the creak that came from the darkened forest to my left. I stilled, and rested my hand on my gun.
I urged Amelia on, not wanting to wait around to find out what had made that sound. The creaking grew louder, and I scanned the shadowy trees for signs of movement.

All of a sudden a thunderous crack sounded, and a huge tree fell into the road, barely missing Amelia and I.
Amelia reared up, frightened, and I didn't have time to hold on. I fell back, a startled scream escaping me as I did.
Amelia took off, and I lay in the road trying to catch my breath, shellshocked. The entire thing seemed to have happened so fast.
I rolled over and pushed myself up, groaning at the aching pain in my back. I looked around for my horse, but I couldn't see or hear Amelia anywhere.
"Fucking perfect," I hissed to myself, thoroughly irritated at the situation. I began walking back down the road in the direction she ran off, calling for her.

My hand gripped my revolver tightly, as I briskly walked back the way we came. It'd felt like I'd been walking for a while now, and I was in a poor mood. I was berating myself for my actions, and cursing how far I lived from town.

Why am I so damn impulsive? Why did I think this was a good idea? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
This entire thing could have been avoided if I'd gone home when I was supposed to. Damn the hotel, damn Arthur Morgan and damn that stupid, stupid job. I swear I am quitting.

I called for Amelia again, desperately hoping that she hadn't gone too far. It would take me all night to walk back to town.

I became aware of a new sound, the furious beat of a horse and rider moving fast. I moved out of the path, leaning against a tree hidden by shadows, and waited.
The rider approached, and I noticed he had Amelia tethered behind him. Oh thank god!
Overwhelmed with relief and not paying attention to anything other than that, I stepped into the road and hailed him. He slowed, noticing me.
"Sir, would you mind–" I started, but he lifted a hand, aiming a pistol at me. A cold feeling spread through me at the sight of the gun, and my breathing became shallow. For all my scrapes, I'd never been held at gunpoint before.

"Don't move a muscle, lady." He snarled, face half covered by a bandana. Oh, no. "Now tell me, what's a little thing like you doing out here all alone?" He murmured, voice becoming sickly sweet.
"I–I am traveling with my husband, but my horse ran off." I swallowed, my throat dry. "He went to find her, but he'll be back any minute." I replied, trying to dissuade him from harming me. My voice wavered, giving away my lie.
The man cackled. "Oh nice try. But I know nobody is coming for you, and you and I are going to get better acquainted." He moved closer, and I automatically took a step back. Adrenaline was pulsing through my body, and I was trembling with the need to run. The man's eyes narrowed, "Come over here little one, it'll be easier for you if you just do as I say."
My stomach turned at that implication, and I shook my head, eyes wide with fear. My hand slid to my revolver, tucked into the band of my skirt at the small of my back. I was mustering up the courage to pull out my weapon, and praying to everything holy that he wouldn't shoot me on the spot.