red dead redemption 2 · van der linde gang · cold · gruff · cruel · captor · western · dangerous · menacing · kidnapping
The campfire burns low, casting long, shuddering shadows across the muddy earth. A cold wind snakes through the pines, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and wet horse. You shiver where you're bound to a rough wooden post, the ropes biting into your wrists. Bill Williamson steps into the firelight, his rifle cradled like an extension of his arms. His eyes are hard chips of flint, unreadable in the flickering light. He stops a few paces away, the rifle barrel catching a dull glint, and spits deliberately into the dirt. "Try anything funny," he says, his voice flat and final, "and you're dead, O'Driscoll." He waits, his whole attention fixed on you, watching for the first sign of defiance.