Bad Beginnings (A RDR2 Fanfic)

Chained

Arthur couldn't remember being so exhausted. The last thing Arthur could remember was going through hell and back. Being on the back of a horse, getting beat, and now, he awoke, only in his underclothes and cuffed to the foot of a bed frame.

"Well, well, well," a voice said in the darkness. Arthur immediately recognized it as Colm.

"Colm," Arthur greeted coldly. His voice was scratchy and he realized how dehydrated he was.

Arthur wetted his cracked lips as Colm entered the light of the lantern. "I have to say, Mr. Morgan," Colm started, pulling up a chair, causing Arthur to have to look up at him. "I thought you'd put up more of a fight."

"I didn't think you would kidnap boys," Arthur replied, then coughed into his shoulder.

Colm laughed, grabbing Arthur's chin and forcing the boy to look up at him. "I don't think you're much of a boy no more."

Arthur gulped. He remembered this position. Being on the floor. Although, his father never chained him to the bed.

Before Arthur could prepare himself, Colm backhanded him across the face. Arthur groaned, as the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

Colm grabbed Arthur's face, tilting it upwards. "I see why old Dutch keeps you around," Colm commented quietly, almost like a secret. "You have such a pretty face."

Arthur breathed deeply through his nose, not breaking eye contact with Colm. Arthur received another blow to his already stinging cheek.

"I figured out another reason why Dutch keeps you around," Colm whispered, moving a thumb over Arthur's bottom lip. Arthur's neck got warm, while he felt his face get cold. He knew what was coming before he even got there.
———
Colm finished down Arthur's throat with a groan. Salty tears went down Arthur's cheeks and spit graced Arthur's chin. Colm held Arthur's mouth closed, making him swallow.

Another tear escaped, when Colm patted Arthur's cheek affectionately and zipped up. Even though Colm patted him softly, the man's eyes were full of malice, and Arthur couldn't help but shudder.

Colm blew out the lantern, plunging the room into darkness. Arthur managed to climb into the bed and couldn't help but cry.

He felt like a boy again. Worthless and violated. He couldn't help but feel like Dutch and Hosea wouldn't come for him.

And Dutch and Hosea didn't.
———
The torture went on for days. It was tiring, Colm coming in, and Arthur never knowing what he would do next.

Arthur felt as if he was always on edge. Being violated day after day, and Dutch and Hosea never came for him.

Arthur couldn't help but think this was his fault. Maybe if he would fight back, or if he tried to push Beatrice harder...

He was startled out of his daydream when Colm entered again. The punch across his face left him dazed and made his cheek ache, but the ache in his chest hurt more.

Colm pulled Arthur back to the floor, knocking the air out of Arthur's lungs. "I need some information from you, boy," Colm hissed at him, kicking him in the stomach.

Arthur remained silent as Colm bent over him. "Where is Dutch Van der Linde?"

"I ain't saying nothing," Arthur spat back defiantly.

Colm growled, then grabbed the collar of Arthur's shirt. "You're going to tell me," Colm warned, then punched Arthur again.

Arthur knew he was going to get a black eye for sure. However, he didn't care. Even though Dutch hurt him, he wouldn't betray the man.

Colm eventually released Arthur and stalked back up the stairs. He heard them yell for the boys to start heating up the fire poker in the morning. Arthur knew what that meant, and that tomorrow would just be worse. He had to make his escape.

He spied a file on a table nearby. Arthur managed to stand, and shuffled over as far as his chain would allow. He stretched his other leg as far as it would go, his fingertips brushing the edge of the object.

Soon, he managed to slide the file over to him. He hurried back to the bed with it. He rattled the little instrument inside the lock, trying to get his ears to tune in on the noises upstairs.

Eventually, a satisfying click filled the quiet room. Arthur quietly lowered his shackle to the floor.

He searched around and found a knife in a drawer. He quickly ducked next to the doorway when he heard creaking on the stairs.

The door opened to show one of Colm's boys. Arthur stabbed the man in the neck, then attempted to lower him silently to the floor, his muscles screaming.

Arthur staggered up the stairs. The door led outside. He ducked down, peaked over the top of the stairs, and then he saw her. Beatrice!

When a guard's back was turned, Arthur sprang into action. He half ran, half limped over to her. He managed to climb on as soon as the guards started shouting.

Arthur couldn't help but finally feel hopeful when he found his bag slung around Beatrice's neck. They rode hard in a random direction down the hill, while Arthur dug around in his bag for his gun.

When he finally found it, he shot behind him, taking out a few O'Driscolls. Arthur felt a bullet go into his leg, but he couldn't stop now.

His eyes watered, as him and Beatrice got farther and farther away. Soon, the shooting stopped.

"Take me home," Arthur mumbled to Beatrice, before promptly passing out, his head resting on the back of Beatrice's neck.