Thunder (RDR2 Charles Smith x OC)

Scars

Colm had begun carving into Wolfe's face with a knife, laughing with glee each time he managed to make her scream. The pain was unbareable. It had been several hours since the torture ensured, but then the questions began. "Where's Dutch?" Colm demanded while wiping the bloodied blade with a silk scarf. 

"Who the hell is Dutch?" Wolfe spat. Wrong answer. The kick to her chest was so hard that it lifted the chair she sat in and slammed her onto the ground, her arms pinned beneath it. Wolfe sputtered, coughing as blood filled her mouth. She had bitten her tongue to prevent herself from screaming...unsucessfully. 

Colm whistled, summoning two more men into the room. "You'd look Indian if it weren't for that hair. Wonder how you'd feel if we were to teach you a little bit of Indian tradition?" He gestured at the two men to hold her up. "Scalp her." Colm casually waved his hand as if he were dismissing a pesky fly. One of the men fisted a hand in her hair, the other grinning as he weilded a knife. Wolfe screamed then. Screamed louder than she had before. 

"What? You denying your heritage? How about the other half. What are you exactly, girl?" Colm sneered. He sat at his desk, awaiting an answer. Spitting the blood from her mouth so she could speak, Wolfe managed to whisper her answer disdainfully. She didn't know whether disclosing their similar heritage would help or not but it couldnt be worse than what they were about to do to her. "I..I'm half Irish. My mother...on my mother's side." She stared at the ground shamefully.

"Your mother was half Irish? You're practically family then. Could be a wife to any one of these fellas. I'd like to have Peter here show you what that's like. Tell me miss, have you ever been with a man?" The devilish grin on Colm's face sent chills down her spine. "Please..I don't want this.." Wolfe pleaded to no avail. Peter, the more burly of the two men, grasped her by the arms while the other cut her legs free. She kicked and screamed, only to end up facefirst on the table.

The shredding of fabric filled the air and her bottom felt bare. A knee was shoved roughly between her clenched legs, spreading her for the world to see. From the opposite end of the table stood Colm. He knelt down beside her face as the clink of a belt buckle behind her hit the floor. "I'm gonna tell you what's gonna happen to you. It's gonna burn. It's gonna sting. You will scream. He won't stop. He'll go harder. If you want this to be over quickly, submit to it, or tell me where Dutch is hiding." Colm grasped Wolfe's bloodied face, opening the wound from the knife once again. 

Salty tears mixed with blood as Peter tried to enter her body. It was warm but not in a pleasant way. The way her body stretched uncomfortable around him had begun to hurt. "Do ya want me ta go all the way in, boss? I don't think she's been with a man before. Can't get in 'er when she's dry as a bloody desert." Peter smacked wolfe's bottom hard, making her grind her teeth.

"You gonna tell me where Dutch is hiding? Tell me before Peter loses patience and buries it anyway." Colm sneered. The slight tearing of her opening led her to believe Peter was already trying. Wolfe tried to clench her body as tight as possible, pushing him further from gaining entry. He growled in frustration, slapping her again. 

"Hurry up and kill me off then, damn you! I won't say nothin' 'bout Dutch or nobody else. Dutch would kill me in worse ways than you could anyway." Wolfe's eyes snapped shut when she was backhanded by Colm clean off the table. "Get her up! Bring her to me." Colm sat on the desk as Wolfe was brought to him. 

"What's this girl's name?" Colm barked. "I'm gonna leave Dutch a little message by making an example out of her. Bring me some pliers." A shiver ran down Wolfe's spine. "I think it's Wolfe, sir. S'what the boy bringin' her in said." Peter said through gritted teeth as Wolfe continued to struggle. A sinister smile played across Colm's lips. "A wolf, huh? Well boys, what's a wolf without her teeth?"