Wowowow do I love Django Unchained (I can't wait to get the DVD). I haven't been this actively obsessed with a movie in a long time! And wow was Christoph Waltz extremely handsome in this movie. Alright, I'll stop gushing now.

BUT I will warn you now, I'm a slow writer mostly due to the fact I don't own a computer anymore. My trips to the library will have to do until I can get a laptop of my own. So I might not update very often. I'm hoping to get a chapter out at least once every two weeks but we'll have to see.

I do not own any of the characters except for Darcy and any minor characters not created by Quentin Tarantino. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes only.

I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave a review? It defiantly helps me.

Prologue/Chapter 1

It was a late fall, maybe early winter morning as two men road across a wide open field, the crunching of first snow being the only sound under their horse's hooves. Small visible puffs of cold breath came from both men and Fritz let out a snort, shaking fresh snow from his mane. The white man with the salt and pepper flecked beard, who was riding said horse, gently patted Fritz as he chugged on. His dapper choice of clothing, a gray heavy coat over a slightly lighter gray suit, protected him from the cold that would soon grow worse as winter came closer. Ahead of him, on his own horse named Tony, sat a young black man. His back was straight as his rode along, showing his newly found pride. His raw hide jacket wasn't as fancy looking as the other male's, but it did the job just as fine. The two rode mostly in a comfortable silence since they had already discussed the plans of the day earlier.

It was the black fellow, Django, who broke the silence as he stopped his horse in mid stride.

"You see that?" Asked Dr. King Shchultz's newly appointed partner, his thick southerner accent causing the bearded man to look ahead of them, squinting slightly against the morning sun.

A couple yards ahead of the two was something laying in the snow, a person by the looks of it. Shchultz gave a quiet curious grunt.

"Good eye, my boy. Shall we go see? Ah- but do remember to be cautious when we get closer. Its very possibly its some kind of hoax." His way of speaking was intelligent but held a sort of odd accent as he pronounced each word.

"Whats'a hoax?" Django asked from over his shoulder before quickly turning his gaze back in front of them, looking for- whatever a hoax was.

"A hoax is- ah, it is a fabricated falsehood, or rather a trick." King explained, ushering Fritz to catch up with Tony so the two of them were riding more side by side.

"Like a trap," Django muttered in response, causing King to nod proudly.

"Yes exactly. A trap. I've seen it before, a person will be out in the middle of nowhere and will pretend to be helpless to trick poor fools into helping them. Normally they have a gang of some sort hiding near by, ready to ambush their victims to kill and take everything of value."

Django removed his gun from its holster as they got closer, maybe eight feet or so, and held it at his side. He rode ahead of Shchultz so to get a closer look at the body, which was laying face down in the snow. He took a good scan of the area around them before looking at the doctor, who nodded, and then climbed down from his horse. He kept his gun out as he crept closer to the body. At first it appeared still, but as he got close enough, he could see the faint rise and fall of the person's back. They were breathing at least.

"Don't think this one is pretendin'," Django spoke up loud enough for King to hear as he came up on the other side.

"Well, flip the poor man over," King said, rolling his finger in a circle motion.

Django bent down with one knee in the snow and pushed the body over. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him. "Ain't no man neither," he whispered, more so to himself, which caused King to lean towards him.

"Pardon?"

King's question was left unanswered in the air, as he didn't need one. He looked down from his high position on his horse at the soft, round face of a woman. There were red splotches on her cheeks, nose, and forehead from being face down in the snow for who knows how long. Her red hair was done up in a tight bun except for stray curling strands that had come loose and were plastered to her face and neck. It was surprising she wasn't suffering from frost bite, that they could see at least. Her light mustard colored button-up was wet and clung to her body, one of the suspender straps had come loose and hung uselessly at the hip of her brown trousers. King also noticed that except for one damp sock, she was bare foot, the toes of her uncovered foot already started to turn a shade of blue.

The doctor cleared his throat. "We should get her warmed up before the poor girl freezes to death, don't you think?"

Django nodded in agreement as he lifted the woman's body up in his arms. She was a little heavier than he expected. King waved him over, and with a bit of effort, the Ex-slave marched over to his horse. King pulled out a wool blanket for his partner to wrap her up in and once she was tightly bundled up, she was placed just in front of where Django sat on his saddle. He climbed back up on his horse, and with a slightly quicker pace than before, the two men rode on to find a place to set camp back up.

Their travels would have to wait another day or two, which didn't seem to bother either of them since the mystery woman would need to be set next to a fire to warm up before she died of Hypothermia. They were too far away to take her to a town, which worried Dr. Shchultz.

After all, It would be unfortunate for the girl to die in their hands.