Wildfire
She's coming for me, I know
And on Wildfire we're both gonna go
Arthur shoved his hand into the dirt, feeling absolutely nothing as he phased right through it. He pulled through, trying to dig up at least a small amount of the loose soil, but he couldn't manage.
An idea occurred to him, maybe he couldn't dig up his body, but if he could get to his body, maybe he could dig himself out?
He reached in again, attempting to pull himself through while not being able to push off anything. He just floated in place in the dirt, kicking his feet as he tried making sense of the physics of being a ghost.
He realized there weren't any.
"Come on, there's gotta be a way to do this."
"Are you still trying to get to your body?" a disembodied, yet not unfamiliar, voice embarked.
Arthur groaned, knowing it was his immortal curser again, "Yes I'm still trying to get to my body, dumbass!"
"Here, I'll make this a bit easier for you." With the sound of a finger snap, Arthur found himself face to face with his own body, cold dirt surrounding his almost fresh corpse.
"There you are, you ugly fool." Arthur rolled over and held his own hands, what was left of the right one at least. Like a glove, he slid himself in, relaxing until he felt a click, a bump, something. He really wasn't sure how he'd know when he was truly back in his own body again.
"I'd like to warn you of something, Arthur." The strange man's voice called out again.
"And what might that be?"
"Once you're in your body again, you will not be able to die. But, you will feel like you are dying."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Because so far feeling dead has just frustrating."
"Just a warning. I felt like it would be wrong not to warn you."
"Right, but you didn't feel it would be wrong to offer a dumbass like me immortality only for me to think you were joking, did you?"
"Oh come on now, there are so many possibilities ahead of you. You could become the smartest man in the world by the time you're 1000. You'll witness firsthand all major events going forward, even the end of the world most likely!'
"Right. So how long until I-Argh!" A sudden jolt of pain made its way through Arthur's body, his lungs felt crushed and scarred, his torn arm began bleeding heavily as every nerve began to gain feeling again and his heart started pumping his old cold blood throughout his veins.
"Fuck! You son of a bitch, fuck you!"
"Good, you made it before there was too much nerve damage. I'll leave you to it then."
Arthur fought against the uncomfortable feeling of dirt entering his nose and eyes, the earthy taste and unpleasant crunch filled his mouth as he screamed in agony. Realizing he could only use one arm, he reached up above his face, trying his best to angle himself in a way that he could lift himself up without packing the dirt down on his lower half.
I will kill that bastard if I get the chance, I will rip his fucking throat out for doing this to me. I just wanted to be dead already, fuck!
He felt himself moving upward, a positive result for sure. He felt a spiritual power surge through him, it helped him to keep going harder and harder despite feeling weak and exhausted.
Finally, he reached air with his hand. A couple more breaths and one final pull, and his head emerged, like a mangled newborn baby. He screamed and cursed at the world as he burst through, dragging his revived corpse away from his grave and over to a tree to rest. His arm was done for, once he had his strength back he'd have to cut it off completely.
He spit out particles of dirt and blew black snot from his nose, coughing up far more than blood in-between. He struggled to breathe, every breath felt like eternity and the satisfaction of an oxygenated lung was far from grasp. He looked to the moon to take his mind off the pain and misery he was feeling, it illuminated his dirty, dampened features and reflected off his eyes gloriously. He couldn't see himself, but he was sure he looked like a dead man walking.
Once he was sure he had hacked up every bit of dirt and blood left in his body, he reflected on the coming sunrise, realizing an entire day had passed since he had died. This was a sunrise he was never meant to see, and he wasn't sure if that made him feel like a badass for cheating death, or a miserable man cursed to walk a world he was never intended to walk.
He finally felt recovered enough to rise to his feet, a dull ache radiating through his body and intensifying with every step. He wasn't sure where he was even going, but he was sure if he walked long enough, he'd end up at a lake where he could wash up eventually.
He performed a dance of dragging his feet, groaning to himself, and taking large, unplanned steps in one direction or another. Sometimes he caught himself going in a small circle, and he'd have to recalibrate and jolt himself to the opposite direction.
The sun began to beam down on his dirt coated head, so he raised an arm up to shield the sun and happened to see the movement of an animal somewhere in the distance.
The whinny of a brown filly filled Arthur's heart with a bit of relief, finally something besides a tree to stare at as he hobbled along.
As he approached the horse, he could make out a dark brown saddle on her back.
"Oh girl, please tell me your rider owns a bathhouse."
The horse turned, noticing Arthur's hobbling out of the corner of her eye. He reached out a hand and looked around for her owner, "Hello!" he called out as his hand touched the filly's velvet nose.
She gave out a content snort at his presence, at least he knew that if her owner didn't come around soon she'd likely be friendly enough to let a strange zombie man ride her.
A familiar voice called out from the woods, effeminate and soft, "is someone there?!"
"Yes ma'am," Arthur looked around, unsure of where the voice was coming from and unable to put the name on his tongue, yet sure he had heard this voice before, "don't be frightened by my appearance miss, I've been through one hell of a night." His gaze settled on a woman approaching from the woods, a rifle in one hand and a dead rabbit slung over her shoulder.
She looked frightened and readied her rifle. "Who are you!?"
Arthur raised his hand and lifted a brow as he realized who the woman was, "Charlotte?"
She lowered her rifle and smiled in relief, "Arthur? What happened to you?!" She ran over to him excitedly, concern and worry overtaking her face as she realized just how torn up he was.
"Boy am I happy to see you."
"I would say the same if your arm weren't hanging off, what happened to you Arthur?" She gently touched just above the ripped section, trying not to let her shock overtake her ability to offer help.
"Wolves. Lots of 'em." Arthur chuckled painfully. "Only took one of 'em to do this though."
Charlotte cringed in second-hand pain. "Please, let me take you back home, you'll die like this out here."
"Kinda wish I did die, would hurt a hell of a lot less." Charlotte shook her head, preferring to not think of her savior rather dying than being alive. She gently turned him towards her horse, assisting him up as much as she could before attaching her catch to the saddle and lifting herself up onto her filly.
Arthur held the woman gently with his living hand, steadying himself on the mare, "So, when did you get a horse?"
"I figured she was a necessity. Bought her in town one day, she's been very loyal. Named her Wildfire." The filly kicked up her hooves and began transporting her riders down the trail.
"She'll be good to you til' her last breath. My ol' boy died about a day ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Was he ill?"
"No, no… It was, well, a rat. In a way."
"A rat?"
Arthur tried looking for a way to describe what he meant without tainting her image of him. "I'm not a good man, Charlotte."
"You keep saying that. But actions speak louder than words. And we are always our own worst critics."
"It's possible I have a chance to begin again," he sighed, "but I've tried that so many times, always ends with someone getting hurt."
"Well, you didn't hurt me. You helped me, you saved my life. I will forever consider you my friend for that alone."
"I was in with some bad guys. For a long time. The only ones who didn't betray me in the end either died or left to make their lives better. And for that, I will never blame them. I should have left too."
Charlotte slowly began to understand. "Well, it looks like you did leave. So now the question is, what will you do now?"
"I dun' know."
"Well, you can stay with me as long as you need to. I have an extra bed and you won't be imposing."
Arthur considered being stoic, denying her offer with something along the lines of "That's alright Mrs. Balfour, I'll get on just fine." But instead, he sighed, and nodded to himself. "I think I could use the comfort of an indoor bed, thank you Charlotte."
"I'm happy to hear it. I could use the company too. Maybe you can teach me some more survival skills as well!" She said cheerfully, looking behind her to catch a glance of the war-torn man. "Once you're all fixed up, that is."
The brown filly gave out a whinny as a fox crossed her path just a gallop away from the old cabin. Charlotte road her over to a fence post and dismounted, holding out a hand to assist Arthur down.
He chuckled as he oriented himself, attempting to first dismount alone. "In a normal world, I'd be helping you down, Mrs. Balfour."
"Well, I've lost sight of whatever a normal world would be considered."
With a shot of pain through his body, he winced, and grabbed for her hand reluctantly, trying not to fall or put too much pressure on the woman.
He tumbled down, buckling to his boots as Charlotte reached out to grab him, keeping him from falling far.
"This arm, Charlotte, it's gotta come off."
Charlotte's eyes widened in response. "Shouldn't a doctor make that determination?"
"Well, the last time I saw a doctor he told me I was dying, so I'd rather make the calls from here on out." Charlotte wrapped an arm around him and assisted him as best she could, steadying him through every stumble and trip he endured as they made their way to the cabin.
"I don't want you bleeding out on my watch."
"I'll be fine, Charlotte. I just need a good bath and a knife."
She looked at him with pain in her eyes as she opened the door. "Well, if you think it's for the best, I trust you." She guided him inside to a chair, and he let out a moan of both pain and relief as he sat down.
"I feel like I could sleep forever, just right here."
"I'm going to go get you a bucket of water and some soap and we can wash you up." She gently patted his shoulder and grabbed a large wooden bucket by the door before heading outside to the well.
Arthur sat in silence for a moment, looking around her home. The home of a widow who, Arthur figured, was surely sufficient enough to have survived on her own.
Or maybe not. Maybe in another world, Arthur hadn't helped her, hadn't seen her when she needed him. And maybe nobody else had helped her either.
Maybe she was only alive because of him. The opposite of many, many people Arthur had come across in his life.
Arthur began undoing his shirt with his one good arm, getting down to the last button but finding it a struggle to actually get it off his shoulders, a mixture of pain and the lack of a second working arm being the culprit.
Charlotte walked back in; a bucket full of fresh water by her hip. "Oh, let me help you, Arthur."
He leaned forward a tad, and she came around the backside of the chair, pulling as tenderly as she could at the blue button-up. One arm down, the healthy one at least. Coated in bruises but other than that, usable and strong.
His other arm was a different story, sticky blackened blood coating the ripped and worn fabric, she contemplated whether pulling it quickly was the right decision or pulling it slowly and possibly prolonging his pain.
He winced and turned away as she pulled it off, the blood pulling at his hair and torn skin. Fresh blood pooled on the floor in small amounts as she was careful to avoid touching the exposed flesh. Once it was off, he looked like half man, half bloodied beast.
"I'm so sorry, Arthur."
"Hey, you didn't attack me," he mustered a grin as he took a good glance at his arm. The skin was completely torn away, the bone entirely dislocated from the rest of his skeleton, the forearm only hanging on by the thinnest strands of red threads, "I'd be real impressed if you did though."
"Right. Well, I think you should get nice and clean before attempting major surgery on yourself."
"Of course."
Charlotte brushed her hair behind her ear before twiddling her thumbs for a second and asking, "do you need, help?"
"I do believe I might, but uh," Arthur reached for the bucket with his good arm, "to save you the trauma, I'll take care of the nasty bits later."
Charlotte let out a relieved sigh. "I'll go get something to scrub you with and a bar of soap."
Arthur nodded in agreement. "Wouldn't you rather we do this outside though?"
"It's fine, I've been meaning to give the floor a good cleaning anyways."
"Yeah but, this is gonna be a lot of blood and all, I don't wanna-"
Charlotte came back from her room with a bar of soap, a hunting knife, and a couple towels. "I really don't mind. It will be more comfortable for you in here."
"Alright."
Charlotte dunked the soap in the bucket, working the lather into a hand towel and taking Arthur's good hand, rubbing the mixture up and down his arm.
Their eyes caught each other; hazel meeting blue. She refused to admit her heart skipped a beat at the sight, because despite his worn appearance and his dirt coated features, his eyes had so much more life in them than they did the last time they met.
She smiled, reaching a hand to gently touch his chin, pulling him slightly towards her as she gazed closer into those suddenly piercing eyes, "you're healthy again, aren't you?"
"I wouldn't go that far."
"You were sick when you were here last time."
"Well, you cure one thing, you end up with a lost arm I guess."
She chuckled as she released her tender grip and continued to clean him up, handing him the towel and reaching for a new one to wash his face with, dabbing it under his eyes and behind his ears before wetting down his untrimmed hair and scrubbing it between her fingers.
"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened? I know you said it was wolves but, you look like you were buried underground."
"Do you want the truth or do you want a lie?"
"I would prefer the truth, but if you'd rather be creative and keep the details to yourself, I'm still curious."
"Well, I got the shit kicked out of me, died. God or Satan or whatever, he told me I was immortal now, but my body got attacked by wolves. I got buried then had to claw out of my own grave with one arm."
"My, you are quite creative. I'll have to keep you around for story ideas from now on."
He smiled, "I knew you wouldn't believe me."
"You know, even on Cal's deathbed he was still telling jokes too."
He looked to her with awe. "Any man lucky enough to have you as their wife would die happily regardless of the circumstances."
She grinned, her eyes almost tearing up. "That's one of the sweetest things I've ever been told."
"It's been a good long time since I've been treated to a nice bath as well."
"This next side will probably sting." She said as she grabbed another clean towel and came round to the destroyed arm.
"I've felt worse, do whatever you need to do."
She squeezed the towel, dripping cool soapy water down into the open wound. Arthur groaned in pain, his chest tightening as his teeth gritted against the feeling. He turned away, appearing to physically try and remove himself from the troublesome arm.
"Fuck," he muttered through his teeth, struggling against it but knowing it had to be done, "give me the knife."
She continued to rub down the arm, "I'm not even nearly finished getting all the dirt off-"
"Whatever is in there is in there, get me the goddamn knife!"
The woman reached for the hunting knife she had grabbed earlier from the table behind her, handing it to Arthur in one swift motion.
"Get my belt and tie it around my arm, as tight as you can."
She hurried in front of him, kneeling and undoing the brown leather belt from his hips. Wrapping it around his arm and pulling it as hard as she could manage, blood squirting from the bottom, Arthur held the knife tightly before making one final request, "you got any alcohol?"
"Um, I have some rum in the cabinet."
"That'll work."
She nodded, running for the container, and bringing it back to him. He placed the bottle between his legs, popped the top off, and took as many swigs as he could until the numbing feeling kicked in.
"I'm gonna need your help here, darlin'."
"Anything, Arthur. I'm right here with you."
"I'm gonna need you to hold this arm here as high as you can."
She blinked twice. "You need me… while you…"
"I wouldn't ask you if I didn't need you to but it's gonna go a lot smoother if you do."
"Okay." She grasped his hand, cold deadened fingers between her own, and pulled the arm vertically, moving down to hold it by the length just before the wound.
Arthur stuffed a towel in his mouth, readied the knife, and began slicing into the flesh, screaming muffled into the towel as his entire body contracted in pain.
Charlotte held strong, looking away as blood splattered on her blue dress. With one final push, the arm came off, and the stump that remained poured with red liquid as Arthur tossed the knife and held the stub up as high as he could, pulling the belt tighter around it.
He spit out the towel onto the floor. "Candle!" he shouted, nodding to a candle that happened to be lit in the corner.
Charlotte dropped the arm and ran for the candle, handing it to her wilderness survival man without putting it out. He rubbed away as much of the blood as he could with a towel, then held the stump to the candle flame, trading his stinging pain for a burning pain.
The worst was over as he finished his self-surgery, laying back in the chair as Charlotte took the candle away. She returned to offer him more rum, to which he nodded and opened his mouth, silently begging that she pour it in and not stop.
With a bloodied arm on the floor, pools of suds and human liquids leaking from Arthur like a dripping pipe, he took one final moan and relaxed his eyes. "Thank you, Charlotte."
"It's no trouble," she looked to the arm, the mess, the bloodied beautiful man in her chair, "I'll go bury that in the back before it decomposes. Please, call for me if you need anything."
And with that, Arthur was armless. He took one last look at the cold, bluish body part as Charlotte wrapped it with a towel and walked it out the door.
He picked up the rum and took another swig, the pain dulling his drunken state, yet still feeling the need to smile and say to himself, "I'm unarmed!" He giggled like a madman, trying to continue holding his brand-new stump above his arm, taking more sips in-between uncontrolled laughter, the majority of the rum dripping onto his beard and chest rather than his mouth.
By the time Charlotte returned, Arthur was far gone, flying high and performing a mixture of moaning in pain and giggling in pleasure.
"My angel!" He shouted at her. She took the bottle from his hand and rubbed some suds out of his hair.
"Do you want to keep bathing tonight or-"
"I will tell you," he hiccupped and pointed a finger up, "what I want."
Charlotte looked at him concernedly. "And what might that be?"
"I want for you to just give me the gentlest of kisses, right here," he pointed to his forehead, "because women's lips, they heal all wounds."
She smiled, and kindly humored him, pressing her lips tenderly to his forehead. He pulled her close, his one good arm wrapping gently around her waist and pulling her in for a hug. She held his head under her breast, fingers trailing his cheek as she further indulged his desires for human touch.
"It's been a while, darlin'."
"Since?"
"Since I was loved." He looked up at her, eyes looking even more pained than when he was cutting off his own arm. "I loved only so many women, and they didn't love me, Charlotte. They used me, they used me and they left me when I couldn't be what they needed. And that's on me, I'm a horrible bastard."
"No, Arthur, that's on them honey."
"No it ain't, Charlotte. I hurt them bad, and I'd hurt you too if you got too close, but, I wanna be close to you. And I ain't never wanna hurt you."
"That's enough of that," she pulled away with kindness, holding his hand with both of her own in an effort to guide him somewhere to lay down, "come to bed, sleep this off and we'll figure out the rest when you're feeling better."
He stumbled to his feet, holding her hands like they were precious jewels, looking at their every detail through his blurred, drunken vision, "I don' wanna hurt you, Charlotte."
"Don't you worry about any of that right now, come with me." She wrapped her arm around his back and assisted him into her guest bedroom, laying him down gently on the bed, holding his arm up and resting it on a pillow by his head.
She pulled out a blanket and laid it over his bare chest, keeping him warm for the rest ahead.
She kissed his forehead once more, wishing him a goodnight without words, then closing the door behind her to give him some privacy.
Arthur came in and out of a blacked-out state, desiring to go wander the halls and find Charlotte again to continue his self-deprecation, to show her and prove what an awful man he is, and why she would be right to toss him out and let him suffer. But she wasn't going to do that, and he wondered if he really made such an impression on her that she would now trust him like this.
He could easily hurt her, maybe not physically but surely emotionally. That's why Mary left him, right? He couldn't change. He wasn't redeemable.
But either she didn't believe he would hurt her, or she didn't care. Maybe she had been through the same pain as him, enough so that she didn't care, just like he didn't. Or at least, just like he kept trying to convince himself that he didn't.
Author's note:
I'm not used to doing author's notes anymore, my last writing has all been comics, a book and a couple experimental short stories these past few years. But after finishing Red Dead 2, I had this story stuck in my head and I have to tell it.
So, please enjoy. There might even be some lemons later, purely because I can and I love writing them. Kindly let me know how you're enjoying this so far and consider following if you like it!