Part One
I screamed as I felt the hot poker burn into my skin. I had never felt anything like that before in my life. I could smell the burning of my flesh as it filled the air. The man behind me laughed and finally pulled away with the poker.
"Time for some fun, my pretty." He laughed and then began to torture me. I tried not to give him the satisfaction of hearing my screams, but sometimes it was difficult. I don't know how much time actually passed while I was in that cabin, but my relief came when I heard my brother's voice.
"Leave her alone." He said. I grabbed the scalpel that was by my side, and stuck it into his stomach. I pulled down and gutted him. My brother was instantly by my side and he pulled me, bloodied out of the cabin. "Come on!"
We went crashing through the trees and finally ended up near another house. I looked up at my brother and we rushed to the house. He pulled open the door and ushered me inside. All talk ceased in the house.
I looked up to see a whole bunch of men sitting at the table eating what looked to be a ham dinner. I couldn't find it in me to care about my state of undress and let my brother lead me to the table where he sat me down.
"Where are you hurt?" He asked, frantically kneeling down in front of me. I looked up at him. "Where did he hurt you?"
"My shoulder." I muttered, shaking my head, trying to force myself out of the stupor I was in. He swore and turned me around to look at my shoulder.
"That dumb, sonuva." He cut himself off. "Jesus. He branded you like your some kind of animal."
"What is it?" I asked, my brother, before picking up a glass bottle of liquor. I eagerly tipped it up and drank a swig.
"What is it?" He repeated, sounding incredulous. I nodded my head. "It's his initials."
"Burn it off." I said, picking at the wood. He gripped my other shoulder.
"Burn it off?" He repeated. I nodded.
"I don't want his bloody initials on my shoulder. Burn them off." I said, gritting my teeth. "Leave me with a burn mark, nothing more."
"Alright." My brother sounded unconvinced. "What else did he do to you?"
"Get a rag and find out." I snapped at him, pushing up from the table. I wasn't wearing anything but my bra, my shorts, and blood. "I don't know. I was too busy screaming in pain to even care!"
"Alright, Emma." My brother said. "Let me get you cleaned up. I hope this all isn't yours. God. What's the boss gonna say?"
"I don't rightly care, Elliot Lee." I said, pulling myself up to my full height of 5'3". I stared at my brother. He went over to a basin and wet a flannel cloth a woman handed him. He began to gently wipe the blood off my body. I grimaced whenever he hit an open wound. Elliot gently pushed me into a seat.
"Turn around." Elliot said, and I turned to face the table. He washed out the cloth and began to wipe the blood off my back. Then the door banged open. We both jumped and turned to see Dr. Dixon standing there, holding his stomach.
"All of you Hatfields should have died." He growled. My brow furrowed as I looked at my brother. He shook his head.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, standing up. Now I was convinced that this man was mentally unbalanced. I mean I figured he was unbalanced, but now this beat all. Talking about the past. He was nuts, plain and simple.
"You. You're the same! The same as all the other Hatfields." He snarled at me. I narrowed my eyes.
"And you are crazy." I said, wrapping an arm around my stomach. He shook his head.
"No!" He yelled. I jumped and hissed as my wounds were agitated.
"Ow!" I yelped.
"You are a Vance. Part of the Hatfield family." He shook his finger at me. "And you should have died at my hand!"
"Oh shut up!" I groaned out, turning away from him. "I'm awfully tired, and less sympathetic towards you than I ought to be, so just shut up." I sat down with a sigh. "Besides you are crazier than an escaped mental patient. What're you going on about the Hatfields for anyways?"
"Because, they killed my daddy!" He shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. I grimaced and wiped off the spit that fell onto my shoulder.
"Maybe they should have killed you instead." I commented, before rolling my neck and cracking it. His eyes flashed for a moment before lunged towards me. I yelped and moved aside as he hit the table.
"Oh." I held my side as the wound opened further. He had cut into my skin with his scalpel, intent on killing me slowly.
"You is the matter. I should kill you now!" He shouted at me. My brother gripped his shoulder in his hand.
"Actually, you need to start talking." My brother demanded. I raised an eyebrow, before shivering.
"God, it's cold." I muttered. My brother eyed me before grabbing a hold of his long sleeve button up and putting it around my shoulders. "OW!" I yelped as the cotton brushed my burnt shoulder. "My shoulder."
"Sorry, sis." He said, cupping my face. I smiled and shook my head. "Start talking!" Elliot yelled at the man.
"Should have been a coach." I commented. He laughed.
"Okay fine." He spat. "You are a Hatfield by marriage." He wrinkled his nose. "I kidnapped you when you were two and took you to your family." I raised an eyebrow.
"Well, thank you." I said with a smile. "I love my Mama. So thank you. Plus I got Elliot out of this deal."
"Shut up." My brother pushed me gently. "Keep talking. Maybe perhaps about where in the hell we are?"
"This is 1886." My eyebrows shot up into my hairline as I gulped.
"What?" I gasped. "You've got to be joking."
"I swear, 'taint a joke." Dixson said. "You were born in 1868, to Marybeth Vance, the youngest sister to Jim Vance."
"Oh dear God." I sank down into the chair I had previously occupied.
"You end up marrying Cap Hatfield. The Devil's own son. Your husband kills almost all of us McCoys." The man spat.
"Oh. And how do you know this?" I asked, curiously.
"I lived it before, like you did." He shot me a glare. He started to cough, and blood splattered into his hands. "And I'll take you with me!" He grabbed a hold of my throat and began squeezing.
"Leave her alone!" My brother grabbed a hold of his arms, as my vision began to darken. I stilled my motions and went limp in his arms. The doctor let me go, thinking he had killed me, when I kicked him in the head. My boot made solid contact with his head and he was out.
"God. I thought he killed you." My brother tipped my head to the side. He looked at my red throat.
"Almost had." I wheezed, before batting his hands away from my neck. "I'm fine. Now go heat up that knife and get this brand off my shoulder."
"Ma'am, yes, ma'am." My brother tipped his imaginary hat to me. I rolled my eyes at his antics and waited with bated breath for him to sear the brand off my back.
"Is this really 1886?" I asked the man sitting beside me. He had blonde hair and a white eye. The other one was blue, but even with the eye he was devilishly handsome.
"Sure 'tis." He said in an accented voice. I nodded.
"Thanks. Almost a hundred and thirty years into the past." I hummed, thoughtfully. "Well, Ell looks like my wish came true."
"What's that?" He called out, watching his knife get redder and redder. Finally he stood up and walked over to me with the red-hot knife.
"That I would get to live in the past." I smirked.
"Well, from what he said, you were born in the past. Makes sense to come back here." Elliot said before helping me take off the shirt. Then he put a hand on my back. "Brace yourself Emma." I did so and gritted my teeth as he placed the hot knife to my back. My skin seared off, and after a moment Elliot stepped back.
"How's it look?" I asked. He shook his head.
"Like someone burnt a large strip of your back." He said. I turned around to face him.
"Shut up Elliot." I grumbled, with no real bite. "At least I'm not like you. An ungrateful, sarcastic prat."
"And yet you still love me." He teased, running a hand through his chocolate brown hair. I rolled my green eyes at his playfulness.
"Much be masochistic." I replied. "Get too much pleasure out of pain." He rolled his eyes this time.
"Alright, midge, let me see your other wounds." I gasped, shocked at him.
"Don't play the short cards!" I growled, before punching him in the arm. He winced and rubbed his arm.
"God. You should try out for the strong man contest – I hear they're looking for freakishly strong midgets." He smirked. I kicked his shin, and he let out an 'oof'.
"Serves you right. Picking on your wounded little sister." I tutted at my older brother. "The one on my side, probably needs stitches." I sat back down. "Maybe a couple of the other wounds too. I dunno." He looked at the one on my side.
"Yeah. You need stitches." He commented. I rolled my eyes.
"Give me the needle." I commanded, holding out my hand. My brother fished in his pocket and pulled out a little medical kit. He handed it to me before he ran out the door. I heard his heaving from here. "Some man you are."
"Shut up!" He shouted back, heaving again. I threaded the needle and grabbed the skin surrounding the wound.
"Leaving me, your little sister, to sew her own wounds shut." I shook my head as I made one stitch. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Oh, good God." My brother walked into the doorway and looked quite grey. "That sickens me."
"Well, I don't like it any better." I said, not moving my eyes from my task. I grimaced as I hit one of the sorer spots. "OW!" I reached behind me and grabbed the bottle of whiskey and drank a swig.
"Maybe we should have put that on the wound before." My brother wrung his hands.
"Shut up. If you can't handle it, don't look!" I snapped, and finally finished the stitches. "Knife." Elliot handed it to me and I snapped off the thread. I stood up and when it didn't tug that much, I sat back down again.
"What are we gonna do?" My brother asked, leaning against the wall. I focused on sewing the next wound shut, the one on my thigh.
"I don't know. Get me that flannel." I demanded. Elliot gave it to me and I dabbed the blood off the wound. It welled up again, and I grimaced. "Guess I have to sew it like this." I began the messy job of sewing it shut. Then I wiped off the blood once I was done.
"You look like you took a bath in blood." My brother commented. I shot him a glare, before drinking some more whiskey. I left bloody fingerprints all over the glass bottle.
"Got any bandages?" I asked. Elliot handed me a roll of white gauze and I wrapped my thigh. Then he helped me wrap my abdomen and knotted it off. I stood up and tested my left foot. It was a little weaker, but it would work, for now.
"We need to get jobs." Elliot announced. I raised an eyebrow.
"And then you need to fit in." I looked at his modern clothes that clad his body. "And get off them clothes."
"And you are gonna have to wear a dress." He shot back at me, picking at his leather jacket.
"No." I said firmly. "Just get an extra pair of trousers, when you get your own."
"Oh no. If we are going to fit in, you have to wear a dress." He snickered. "And act like a lady."
"That wasn't part of the deal." I pouted and crossed my arms, careful not to agitate the burn on my back.
"So?" My brother reckoned. "Besides, if you do this, I'll get you candy." I shot him a dark glare.
"I'm not a child anymore." I huffed. "Don't bribe me." But I had to think about this deal. "When would I get candy?"
"As soon as I am able." My brother said. I narrowed my eyes.
"And how often?" I weaseled. He sighed and shook his head.
"After you put on the dress." He said, shooting me a look.
"So everyday then?" I asked, manipulating him. He shook his head.
"NO!" He shouted. "It's a one-time deal, not an everyday thing." I pouted at this response.
"But I can't function without my sugar. Or my caffeine." I said, pleading with my brother. "Please?"
"No." He said firmly.
"Elliot, I was just kidnapped and held and tortured by a megalomaniac. And then we were brought to the past, where I was supposed to grow up and have a normal childhood. Don't you think I deserve some candy?" I asked, widening my eyes, and he began to melt.
"Dammit!" He shouted, punching the wall. That was when I knew I won. "Alright. I concede. Of course you deserve candy, sweetheart." He pulled me into a hug. I smirked and once he released me I sat back down at my spot at the table.
"So everyday then?" I asked cheekily. He gently smacked my cheek.
"Once a week. You'll have to content yourself to that." Elliot said with a sigh. I cheered in victory.
"I still have it!" I yelled.
"You manipulated me." He said, his tone not very surprised. I laughed and nodded my head.
"Best thing I'm good at." I stated. "Now I want my candy."
"Shut up!" He snapped at me playfully. "You have to wait!" I pouted and sank back into the table.
"I want sugar!" I said with a smile. Then I yawned.
"You need sleep." Elliot said with a serious look on his face. I shook my head.
"I'm not tired." I shook my head, yawning once more. He raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know why you protest so much about sleeping when you are clearly tired." My brother frowned at me. I yawned once more.
"But I'm not tired." My brother hummed.
"Just close your eyes and even if you're not tired, the rest will do you some good." He compromised.
"Alright. I guess I can do that." I said, and let him pull me to my feet. My brother looked at the woman in the kitchen.
"Do you mind if she sleeps a little here?" He asked. "I'd take her to town with me, but there's no way that we can both make it to town by walking."
"No. I wouldn't dream of throwin' out family in need." The woman said, walking over to me. "C'mon, darlin'."
"Alright. But I'm only going to rest my eyes." I warned, before I let her guide me over to the fire. "I'm not sleeping. I'll be up in a little while."
"Alright. You do that." My brother said, rolling his eyes. "Rest well." I nodded and curled up on the blanket that the woman spread on the ground. Within minutes I was sleeping.