A scream escaped your lips as burning pain chased through your body and made every inch harden.

"Fuck!", you cursed and stumbled.

Your back hit the altar.

But you didn't have time to give into the feeling of nausea that made your head spin.

Again, you raised the gun to point it at Javier.

Groaning in pain, he was curled up on the floor.

Blood poured out of his leg. He was shaking all over, but still held the gun in his hand.

Breathing heavily, his sight clouded by tears of suffering, he managed to aim for you.

Your finger already applied pressure on the trigger as another shot rang out.

With his eyes widened, he managed press out a soft breath.

A thick trail of deep red blood ran down from his forehead, over his neck and disappeared underneath the collar of his shirt.

Without a sound, he fell over into the dirt.

The smell of gunpowder was in the air.

Gasping, you managed to pull yourself to your knees.

Your ears felt deaf. All you could hear was the distant rhythm of your own heartbeat and heavy breathing.

For a moment, the floor beneath your feet felt like it was shaking like a boat.

Your head was spinning.

You had shot a man.

Restless, your eyes jumped to the gun in your hand.

Your fingers were still wrapped tightly around the handle. But the grip weakened.

With a dull sound, the gun fell to the floor.

"It's alright...", Arthur kneeled next to you. "I did it. Like I promised."

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest.

The heating of his heart pressed against your cheek.

It was calm and steady.

There was no doubt that he was used to this.

Somehow, it scared you.

Something inside your chest pulled together. Breathing got harder.

With gentle force, Arthur got you back on your feet and guided you outside.

Your eyes jumped from Micah to Javier's corpse.

A shiver chased through your body.

All of a sudden, the world was swallowed by darkness.

Confused, you stopped.

Arthur had placed a hand over your eyes.

"Keep walkin' sweetheart.", he whispered into your ear to calm the panic that tied your throat. "I'll handle it."

Your legs started moving again.

A low sound filled the air all of a sudden.

Out of reflex, you turned your head to take a look at what was making these sounds.

It sounded as if someone was choking on water.

In the corner of your eyes, a person lay in a puddle of blood.

A white hat was laying next to his head. It was drenched in red as well.

You sucked in a sharp breath.

"Micah...", you mumbled.

With more pressure, Arthur pushed you towards the exit.

But your legs were as stiff as stone.

Without thinking, you turned to face the dying man.

Curiosity shimmered inside your eyes.

Somehow, you felt the need to see him suffer. You wanted to know how it looked like when the last spark of life left someone's eyes.

Without permission, your legs started walking by themselves.

Sighing, Arthur let go and allowed you to do what you wanted.

His hands kept holding onto you. He wanted you to know that he was there.

Slowly, almost frightened, you approached Micah.

He was bleeding from his neck.

His eyes trembled as he managed to move his gaze to you.

"Y-you... god... fuck-fucking...", he managed to press out from clenched teeth.

His entire body was as stiff as stone.

The way his chest rose and fell indicated that he had trouble breathing.

"Where's the boy?", you asked with empty eyes.

The sight made you feel strangely cold, almost as if all the feelings had left your body.

Now, all you could feel like was an empty shell without thoughts.

All you could focus on was this man, covered in his own blood.

There was so much hate burning inside his eyes. But at the same time he was visibly afraid that death was waiting upon him.

It was only a matter of time.

Or mercy.

With his last strength, Micah managed to gather some saliva in his mouth. He tried to spit on your boots.

But Arthur raised a foot and stepped onto his chest with his entire weight.

A suffocated, shaky scream escaped Micah.

He coughed.

"Fuck- fuck y-you, Arthur Morgan!", he cursed and wrapped his fingers around his leg.

Arthur didn't flinch.

His face was as blank as a sheet. Only a dark shimmer inside his eyes gave away that he was about to put another bullet into Micah.

"The boy.", Arthur growled with such a frightening undertone, that you had to take a step back. "Where?"

Micah showed him his bloody teeth.

"Wouldn't you... like to know?"

Arthur applied more pressure.

A pained expression appeared on the wounded mans face. But he refused to whimper like a beaten dog.

"Arthur.", you grabbed him by the arm. "We can look for him ourselves."

Arthur didn't move.

His grim gaze was fixed onto the man he seemed to be disgusted by the most.

His foot moved.

You thought he wanted to lift it.

But he didn't.

Instead, he moved it upwards and pressed it right onto the wound on Micah's neck.

Another stream of blood poured out and splattered all over Arthur's boots.

Micah pulled a face.

"Where is Karl?", Arthur asked once again, hateful. "Say it now or I'll make you suffer far more."

You sucked in a sharp breath.

"Arthur!", you kept insisting. "Leave him. He's dying anyways."

He shook you off.

With his teeth clenched, he bend over to meet Micah's watery gaze.

"I want the boy, you son of a rat.", he growled. "Tell me where or I'll keep you alive to do unforgivable things."

You took a step back.

His behaviour scared you.

It wasn't like him. At least not like the man he had presented himself to be.

Small waves appeared inside the puddle of blood.

Arthur let the trigged of his revolver click. He pointed the gun at his victim.

Micah's eyes trembled.

"I'll let you live.", Arthur offered. "Now talk."

A shivering breath escaped Micah.

"They... took him... to...", he coughed. "The orphanage..."

Without hesitating, Arthur pulled the trigger.