OOC Note: Perhaps Canon

Some Time Ago.

“Wake up, buddy.”

It was unbelievably bright on the dead plains, the sun of mid summer’s day oppressive in its shine and heat. Ugly brown grass clearly hadn’t gotten water in days, and in patches gave way to bare dirt. There was a soft buzzing of seven year locusts, and the dry wind as it rustled dead branches of the only tree around. It was a common location for people to stop and spend the night, the top of a small hill with a nice view of the surrounding countryside. Rocks arranged in a prebuilt fire pit, one larger one with the sigil of the Corone Rangers carved into it.

“I said wake the fuck up, buddy.”

The slap was loud, the girl gasped as consciousness came flooding back to her. She tasted the copper in her mouth before the pain. Massive hands handled her roughly, lifting the small girl and setting her on her feet. She managed to remain standing, eyes watering and blurring everything in front of her. She recognized the man sitting in front of her, but and vaguely could make out the face of the man standing next to him with a wide grin on his face. Around them were more men, wearing the same uniform as the standing, grinning man.

“B-Bernard? Bernard are you okay? Da-” The last name died in her mouth as she began to stumble. She knew Bernard didn't like being called that. There was a hand motion from the smiling man, and someone behind the girl grabbed her long hair and yanking her upright. She screamed.

“There we go, Bernie-boy.” The smiling man turned to Bernard, looking down on him. The sigil of the Corone Rangers emblazoned on one arm.The smiling man was massive, muscles moving like mountain under his uniform as he knelt down and used one heavy hand to adjust Bernard’s face to the small girl. “She ain’t as tough as you must’ve hoped, huh?”

Bernard was silent, staring up at the smiling man. Bernard’s frame was tense and powerful, but rounded by age. The poncho he wore was similar to the small girl’s, with the same earnest but amateur stitching. He didn’t say anything as he glowered.

“Call me Uncle Richie, buddy.” He kept smiling at the small girl as she wiped the tears from her eyes. The man holding her lowered the pressure on her hair slightly, letting the girl stand. She could see the shine of a lacquered wood club in one of his hands as Richie took a step back from Bernard. “Sorry you got caught up in this here, I have to talk to my friend Bobby-boy here.

“What?” Rob blinked, the first sign of emotion that wasn’t subdued rage. He began to move and stand, but stopped at Richie’s hand telling him to stop.

“Well it’s been some time, Bernie-boy,” Richie kept grinning. “I know it’s been. A couple mutual friends of mine’ve been telling me you haven’t been taking your medication.”

“I don’t do that anymore.” Rob’s voice was iron, and his eyes trailed to the struggling girl. She squirmed, helpless against the man holding her. He, and all of Richie’s men, wore masks, cheap ones you could buy at any market store with splitting grins painted on.

“Course you do, Bernie-boy, everyone does.” Richie laughed. It sounded hollow. “And you were a good customer of ours, you shared the happy little blue pills with a lot of mutual friends.”

“I stopped.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you got back on the horse, can’t keep lying in the mud.” The men around them tittered as Richie removed removed a small pouch from his bag, opening it and shaking the contents out. Small rocks, no bigger than the girl’s thumbnail, tumbled into his hand. They glowed sickly as Richie rolled them around in his hand. Bernard stared, licking his lips at the small fortune of the happy little blue pills.

“I won’t.”

“Really, are you sure, Bernie-boy?” Richie knelt down holding them within Bernard’s grasp. The powerful man could still see the small girl struggling beyond Richie.

“Fuck you.”

Richie sighed and raised his other hand, giving an obvious signal. The only sound was the wooden club hitting the small girl with a meaty thud. She didn’t cry out, the air driven from her lungs. The club was brought back smoothly, a second heavy sound as a rib snapped.

“STOP!” Bernard tried to stand, but Richie’s massive hand pushed him back. The powerful man fell back as he was caught off balance. Richie was smiling, his outstretched arm with the pills still offered. “Just… Just don’t hit her again.”

“Take it, Bernie-boy.” Bernard did.

“Again.” And Bernard did.

“Again.” And Bernard did.

“Again.“ And Bernard did.

“Again.” And Bernard did.

*******

“Well then, that was easy, wasn’t it Bernie-boy?” Richie was standing over Bernard’s body. The powerful man managed to keep sitting upright. Richie brought a leg back, kicking the sitting man and sending him sprawling. “Doesn’t it feel so much better this way?”

“Bernard!” The small girl struggled in her captor’s tight grip. Her scalp tore as she struggled, clumps of nearly white hair coming off in pieces.

“But we got a second part to this game, Bernie-boy, got a question for you that those happy little pills’ll be perfect to help you with,” Richie’s voice was rougher than any the small girl had heard before, and she could feel his eyes crawl over her like a physical thing. She felt dirty, soiled just from the attention on her. The girl squirmed, trying to get away but her gaze never left Richie’s.

“You see, I want you to tell me…” Richie’s voice almost drawled as he drew the thick blade at his side. It was more butcher’s knife than sword. He made a signal,and one of his masked men came up,. The masked man grabbed Bernard’s arm, pulling it out so the heavy muscle flexed. He drew the heavy blade across it, cutting into the flesh. “I need a bit of flesh to go along with the gold. So I want you to choose between this famous arm.”

“Or…” Richie cut again, digging it deeper into the arm. The small girl gasped as Bernard didn’t even seem to feel the deep cut. The powerful man’s gaze seemed to glaze over as Richie took a few powerful steps towards the girl. He grabbed and tore her poncho and the shirt underneath. Her bare skin was pale, and goosebumps rose as Richie put the blade across her chest. “Or maybe just a small piece of her.”

“Mrgh…” Bernard’s voice was slurred, only just now noticing the blood dripping from his arm. He looked at it in a daze, looking back up at Richie with something on his face.The small girl couldn’t recognize it. He swayed, getting a foot under him.

“I’m taking both if you stand, Bernard!” Richie screamed, a boot kicking into the cut on Bernard’s arm. The powerful man screamed. Richie repositioned the sword against the small girl’s chest.

“Tick tock, Bernie-boy.”

Bernard looked away, then down, clutching at the cut on his arm. His face looked wet. His head shook slightly, and Richie understood. His smile widened, and his the flesh of his gums was visible. The small girl also understood.

“Can’t say I’m surprised, Bernie-boy. I was hoping to have something a bit meatier, but coward’s flesh isn’t worth much.”

The blade cut smoothly, the small chunk of flesh falling to the dry earth with its dead grass.

She didn’t scream, even though she was alone on that hill with Richie, his men, and Bernard.