Disclaimer:I don't own any part of "The Patriot" but I do own Helena.

Meg, BratPrincess - Thanks for the reviews on the first version.

I REWROTE the story and decided that it will be a oneshot. I've simply lost the concept for the rest of the story. The ideas I had, I've decided to move to another Tavington ff, which is now work in progress. I'll soon publish it


OoOoOo Stupid Girl oOoOoO

It was a hot, dry day. Dirt arose from the ground, with the slightest movement. Even though the sun would soon set, the temperature didn't seem to drop. The heat was merciless. As merciless as Colonel Tavington, who sat on top of his horse, watching another family being dragged out of their home, by his soldiers.

It was a big, elegant house, built in a typical, colonial style. The wood, of what the home was made of, was painted white, a wide verandah, stretching on the full length of the building. Above it, a balcony matching the verandah's size. The roof was covered, with navy blue tiles.

One of the soldiers walked up to the Colonel.

"What shall happen with them, Sir?" The soldier asked pointing at the family - which included two adult women, one man and five children, non above the age of 12 – and a group of slaves.

"Kill them." Tavington answered blankly. He looked down at the soldier. "All of them." The man looked at his superior with disbelief. Obviously, he didn't know the Colonel's methods, yet.

Tavington pulled out his pistol and fired. A moment later one of the women was on the ground, screaming over her child. Because of the sudden movement, much dry dirt rose from the road before the house. The dead girl lying on the ground, wasn't older than ten. The Colonel hardly looked at them, his eyes turned back to the soldier.

"Captain, I really hate repeating myself." He said in his usual, emotionless voice. "Kill them all and burn the house."

The man, a bit shaken with what happened only seconds ago, nodded and gave the order. When the soldiers pointed their guns, at the group of people, something caught Tavington's eye. One of the women desperately looked at the open door of the house. The message was clear. Someone was still inside.

"Hold your fire!" The Colonel ordered, riding up closer to the traitors. "Who else is in the house?" The question was pointed to both, the family and the slaves. "The one which will answer, maybe will save his life." He added after a moment. One of the slaves jumped out, before the group of captives.

"Their seventeen year old daughter, is still in the house. There's a secret room, the entrance to it is in the study. She must be there." He said pointing at the family. The woman, which was still standing, cried out and collapsed next to the one kneeling, by the dead child. Tavington smirked.

"Now, kill them all. I'll get the girl." He said and dismounted his horse. He approached the entrance to the house.

"You said, I'll save my life if I'll tell you." The slave cried out. Tavington stopped and slightly turned his head to the slave.

"I said 'maybe'." He then looked at the Captain. "Proceed with the order." After that, the Colonel continued into the house. Inside, the air was quite cool, comparing to the outside.

Tavington passed through a few rooms, before finally reaching the study. It was a big room, covered in a dark green wallpaper and a matching rug lying on the floor. The furniture was made out of carved mahogany. The sun was pouring inside the study, through half closed louvers, which made the room shadowed.

The Colonel locked the double doors – which were the only entrance to the room - and looked around. He spotted, that one of the corners of the rug, was moved up. He glanced at the wall in the same place, there was a long, sheer crack in the wallpaper. It was just the length of a door.

XoXoXoX

Helena hid in a secret room, placed by her father's study. It was actually hard to call it a room, it was a compartment, just big enough to fit a person inside.

First Helena heard the sounds of a struggle and then, nerve wrecking, dead silence. It seemed to last forever. Suddenly, she heard a single gunshot, then, her aunt's scream. Dead silence, once more… broken by her mother screaming 'No!'. Helena felt her stomach rise up, right to her throat. She wanted to know what happened, but she was scared to find out, at the same time. Then, she heard multiple gunshots, and a second later, a second series. Later, only that killing silence.

Helena never belonged to the group of brave people, neither she was mentally strong. All of her emotions were easy to trigger. Every time she was scared, she felt cold. The girl felt best, safe in her own home, with her family. But now, she couldn't feel safe, even in her own house.

The silence was broken, by the sound of footsteps. Footsteps, approaching her fathers study. Helena could hear the double-door being locked. It was the only exit from the room. The girl had a feeling, like ice was being pressed to her bare back. Helena found a small crack in the wall and looked through it.

There was a man, in a British Green Dragoon officer's uniform, examining the room. He must've noticed something, because he was now looking directly at the door, to the secret compartment. Helena froze, when she saw, that he started walking in her direction. She felt, like her nerves were a too much stretched piano string, which would break any second. With his every step, Helena felt her insides being squeezed by an ice cold hand. Her breathing became more harsh and heavy. She closed her eyes for half a second, and when she opened them, the man was gone. He simply vanished. It was quiet again.

Suddenly the door shot open, which made Helena jump back and press herself tightly against the wall, that was mere centimeters behind her. She dug her nails desperately into the unpainted, wooden wall of the compartment, as if it would make the man before her disappear.

Helena looked at the officer, and there were three things that caught her eye immediately. First: his size. She hardly reached the man's chin. Second: his cold, steel grey eyes. That told her, who he was. They said that there was only one person, who had eyes almost like glass. Colonel William Tavington, commander of the Green Dragoons, murderer, butcher, bastard, scoundrel, etc. The third thing she noticed, was that he was devilishly handsome. It was his appearance that made her tremble, of fear and something else… Oh, how easy her feelings could be manipulated. She was weak, not stupid, but very weak.

Tavington walked up closer to the girl. He had to admit, she was pretty. The girl had wavy, shoulder length hair in a color somewhat brown and mahogany red, flowing loosely around her young face. Her carnation was delicately olive and she had ocean colored eyes. He shamelessly examined her body, visually undressing her piece, by piece.

The way he looked at her, made Helena feel like she was standing naked in front of him. And that merciless silence, which embraced the room… It was unbearable for her. How she wished that this was just a dream. But it wasn't and she knew it. Being trapped like a rat in a corner made it even worse.

"Name." He said in his emotionless manner, breaking the silence that was killing Helena.

"Helena Graves." She managed to say.

"Helena… nice name. You're quite nice yourself. As for a simpleton colonial, that is." Helena ignored that remark. She knew, that she had to calm down and act as brave as it was possible. She took a deep breath.

"Will you please, move out of the way, Sir. I would like to get out of here." Tavington slightly moved out of the way, to let the girl out of the compartment. Helena walked out into the study, relieved that she finally had some room to breathe. "Where is my family?" She asked.

"Your whole, traitor family is dead, Helena. Their bodies are lying outside, and this house will be burned." She saw an sadistic smirk, painting itself on the Colonel's face. Suddenly, the gunshots and her mother's and aunt's screams appeared in her head. She pictured her dead parent's, three sisters and brother, her aunt and her daughter's bodies, lying lifelessly before their house. An indescribable anger awoke in her.

"You bastard." She said calmly and then, suddenly Helena jumped to Tavington's throat. Though this surprised him, she only managed to scratch the side of his neck. He caught her both wrists, less than a second later. He slapped her, with the back of his gloved hand. The blow was so powerful, that Helena painfully landed on the ground.

When she came back to her senses, she felt a burning, stinging pain, in the place, where he hit her. She moved her hand to her face. No one ever hit her. Helena's father always told her, that a gentleman would never beat a woman. She quickly understood that the man before her, was no gentleman.

The rest of Helena's body ached from the fall. Her hair was now a mess, covering her whole face. Helena removed it from her eyes and looked at Tavington.

"Stupid girl." He said, glaring at her. He touched the place where she scratched him. When he brought his hand, back before his eyes, he noticed some blood on his glove. His blood. He was furious. He looked back at the girl. "Stupid whore."

"Will you kill me now?" She asked. Tavington smirked. That smirk made her even more afraid, than she was already. Still, there was something about him… It made it impossible for her, to tear her eyes away from him. Helena thought, that he was the devil with the face of an angel. He walked up to her.

"It would be a pity, to let you die a virgin." Her eyes widened and her muscles stiffened. She never made love to man before and she heard, that the first time hurt much. "Get up." He said. Helena didn't move, she just looked at him. "Get up!" When she still didn't move, Tavington painfully yanked her up. "Stop disobeying me, bitch." He looked around the room. He spotted a few bearskins laid by the study's fireplace. "This will do."

Helena followed his gaze and saw the bearskins, then she looked back at him, with fear in her eyes. She slightly opened he mouth and started to shiver in his hands. The Colonel smirked at that and pulled her towards the fireplace. When he was a few steps away, he threw her on the bearskins. They amortized Helena's fall, but the touch of the soft fur quickly reminded her, what's waiting for her. Tavington walked up to an armchair and took off his riding helmet, gloves and jacket.

He returned to the girl and kneeled beside her. The Colonel traced the red mark on her face, in the place where he hit her. His touch made her tremble. He moved his hand through her jaw line, down her neck to her breasts. Helena moved away from his hand, but then Tavington grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her into a rough kiss, forcing his tounge into her mouth. The girl tasted like wine to him. Helena tried to pull away, but he was to strong. Finally, he let her go.

"Stop struggling. You'll enjoy this, more than you think." After saying that, he moved on top of her. Helena started struggling even more, but it was useless. He pulled out a dagger from his boot and started cutting open the front of Helena's dress. He cut it deep enough, to get through all of the girl's undergarments as well. When he was done, it took him only a few seconds to rip the dress off her. Now, she was lying completely naked beneath him.

Though Helena knew, that she couldn't do anything to prevent what was going to happen, she kept struggling. Tavington captured her wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head. He pulled her into another rough kiss and started penetrating her mouth with his tongue. While exiting her mouth, he bit her lower lip. She wasn't sure anymore, if she wanted him ho stop.

He moved down the girl's neck, to her breasts and started nibbling on the gentle flesh. Helena gasped, when he did that. She felt his hardened manhood, press against her thigh. He kissed his way back to her mouth. Then Helena felt him, move his free hand between her legs. She started breathing more heavily, when inserted his fingers into her most intimate part. Her senses came back and she tried to free herself, but her attempts were fruitless. A moment later, Helena felt him undo his breeches.

"No, please." She begged with tears in her eyes. The girl was afraid of him and Tavington took pleasure in it. He liked seeing people fear him. He moved his hand up to her face and gently caressed it.

"Shh. As I've already told you, you'll enjoy this, more than you think." With that, he savagely thrust into her. Helena screamed at the pain that seemed to be tearing her body apart, all her muscles stiffened. She dug her nails into her hands so hard, that they started bleeding. Helena whimpered when another thrust came.

"Stop, please…" She said, but there was no answer. He didn't stop. He just kept thrusting into her harder and faster. To Helena's surprise, the pain disappeared and something else appeared in it's place… Pleasure? Yes, it was now pleasure that was ripping her body apart. She couldn't explain it. This was the man that killed whole family and she didn't care. The world didn't exist for her now. Helena stopped struggling underneath him and wrapped her legs around his hips, to pull him deeper inside of her.

Tavington finally released her wrists, and she wrapped her hands around his neck. Helena first started moaning and then screaming with pleasure. His thrusts became faster and more violent. Oh, how she wanted him. When she finally climaxed, she dug her nails into his neck. Tavington made two more thrusts and released himself inside of Helena, then collapsed on top of her.

A moment later he pulled out of her and cleaned himself with a part of her torn dress. Then he walked up to the armchair, where his things lay. He put the jacket, gloves and riding helmet back on, and walked back to Helena. She still laid naked on the bearskins, with her legs spread wide apart, breathing heavily. The girl's mind was somewhere else, far away.

"I told you, that you would like it. Now, get up and get dressed, whore." He said in his cold voice. That brought Helena back to realty. She was just raped by the man that killed her family and she enjoyed it. She enjoyed it more than anything in her life. He was right, she was a whore. She hated herself and she hated him.

Helena quickly dressed herself in her emerald green dress. It was a hard task, because the dress had the whole front cut open. While dressing, she noticed that she had some blood between her legs. The girl decided to not pay attention to it. When she finally succeeded in putting her clothes on, she had to hold the dress in her hand, so it wouldn't split open.

"Come on." Tavington said and grabbed her, by her forearm. He dragged her outside the house and threw her on the ground, before the house's verandah. Helena heard the soldiers whispering and she could see some grinning. When she turned her head left, she saw that she was lying beside of the dead bodies of her family.

That sight made her freeze. It got to her, that she would never hear her mother's or father's voice again,neither her sister's laughing. She would never even see them again. Tears started filling her eyes. She started moving her hand, to touch her dead mother, that was lying beside her…

The sound of a gunshot cut the air. Tavington shot the girl in the back of her head. Her body was now lying as lifelessly as her family's bodies. The Colonel put his gun back into the holster and mounted his horse.

"Burn the house." He said. The soldiers threw lit torches at the house. Soon later, they left the place of the ruthless murder. Not the first and not the last.


Sorry for any mistakes. The punctuation is probably horrible. I wrote this at 3:00 am. I'm the type of a night writer, I don't have time during the day.

Please review.