Chapter Text
He’d known it was a risk, but unfortunately it was a risk he had to take. His stolen horse had died and left him stranded practically in the middle of nowhere. He hadn’t eaten in three days, and that rabbit had been as scrawny as himself. He couldn’t even remember when he'd had food before that. His ribs were sharp as knives and he could easily see every knob of his spine in a mirror. If he didn’t find something to eat soon he knew he wasn’t going to make it to the next town.
So when he stumbled upon the homestead, he decided to take his chances. He waited till the middle of the night, long after all the lights in the house had gone out. He crept towards the house and used his knife to break open the lock on the kitchen window. Then climbed silently inside.
He wasn’t after money or jewelry. All he wanted was food. A loaf of bread. Maybe some dried meat if he was lucky. A few canned vegetables or fruit. Anything…
What he found instead was a big mean dog, he didn't notice until it had already bowled him over, barking it’s fool head off. He tried to escape, but the stubborn thing kept latching onto his legs, ripping his trousers, and tripping him up. Finally it grabbed his ankle and bit him badly enough that he couldn't have run after that even if he tried.
When the owners of the house found him, they laughed and let the dog snap at him for quite some time as he huddled in a ball on the floor. He was a bloodied mess. Bites and scratches all over his arms and legs before they finally yanked the beast off of him. Having taught him a ‘lesson’ he figured they’d let him go after that.
He figured wrong.
They tied his arms and legs together and once he was completely helpless they proceeded to beat him with their belts until he screamed. Once he could barely move anymore, they dragged him outside by his hair and dropped him unceremoniously on the ground. His prayers for mercy fell on deaf ears as they looped a lasso around his neck and hoisted him up on a tree branch.
He choked and gagged as the rope grew tighter and tighter, quickly cutting off his air supply. As his struggles grew weaker and weaker he heard them laughing again. They were laughing while they watched him die…
As darkness closed around him, he heard a crack like thunder from far away. Suddenly he was falling and he landed hard on the unforgiving ground. In too much pain to move, all he could do was lay there and gasp weakly as he heard people shouting and more gunshots. Then suddenly everything went quiet.
Dimly he heard the sound of footsteps walking towards him on grass. The jangle of spurs. A boot nudged his bruised ribs and he let out a pathetic moan.
“So, not quite dead yet. Cut him free,” a voice said, but he was having trouble focusing on whoever was speaking.
The noose around his neck was removed first, and then the ropes around his wrists and ankles were cut. All he could do was gasp like a fish stranded on dry land. Finally the shape of a man knelt down in front of him. He blinked his bruised eyes several times, but still could barely focus on his savior.
“What’s your name, boy?” the man asked.
It took him several tries before he finally managed to choke out a sound that barely resembled his name, but it seemed to satisfy the man regardless.
“John, huh?… Well, John, looks like today is your lucky day. My name is Colm O’Driscoll…”