Nearly.

You're inches from being close enough to reach for a weapon when you feel his hand on your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking you back towards him. Reflexively your arm shoots out for the shelf where a pistol waits, but your stretching reach falls short. The jerk of his fist causes you to tip backwards, stumbling and falling heavily on your ass, your shoulders striking him in the shins.

He still has your long hair bunched in his fingers, tension on your scalp searing you with pain and causing you to squirm to relieve the tightness by twisting your neck towards his grip. You feel the cold metal of his pistol scrape across your collarbone, and up under your chin.

"You're gonna be a good girl ain'tcha," he breathes. You nod, frozen in fear by the presence of the weapon and by the pain in your scalp.

You're dismayed to realise that he's taking a minute to look around the cabin, casing the interior, leaving little chance that a weapon will remain hidden from his view. He whistles at the sight of your food supply, and you hear an almost involuntary smacking of lips. Considering how close to hunger you and Todd have been in some of the recent months, you can only imagine how desperately hungry he might be. He also clucks his tongue at the sight of some of your higher level armoury.

"You're tooled up girlie," he growls. "Lotta guns here for one little cunt like you. You sure your boyfrien' ain't aroun' no more?" You nod, jerkily, as best you can with the tightness in your hair. "Lucky for me I found ya when you weren' packin'." He jabs the pistol into your clavicle. "You know what this can do to ya, I think. You're gonna stay put ain'tcha?" You nod again, miserably.

He takes a couple of jerky steps over to the shelves where you'd hoped to reach Jim's pistol, and picks up your Dad's handcuffs. Your heart sinks at the sight of them, as it can only mean one thing. He returns to where you're sitting on the floor, jabbing a knee between your shoulder blades and forcing you to bend forward. He shoves the pistol against the base of your skull and uses the other hand to grab a wrist, awkwardly clipping one steel band around it and closing the hoop as tight as it will go. You try to resist when he reaches for the other wrist, knowing that the moment he has it you really will be in trouble. This earns another sharp blow to your head with the pistol, sending a cracking pain through your spine and creating a flashing behind your eyes.

When your senses return, you feel both wrists tightly secured behind your naked back. He's evidently familiar with handcuffs, probably having been subjected to wearing them plenty of times. Your adversary has left your side, snooping around the cabin, appearing to have almost forgotten about you while he investigates all the stuff that's probably now become his.

Your mind is racing, trying to think of a way you can save yourself. It doesn't look good: you're half naked and handcuffed with your arms uselessly trapped behind you. You know where the guns are, but even if you can reach one actually firing it effectively is going to be nearly impossible. Clarence doesn't seem like he'll be easy to outfox, making your chances of getting the drop on him feel remote. You have a very slim hope that Todd might return before something irreversible happens, but that comes with further dangers: he'll likely approach the cabin expecting no danger, so whether Clarence will see him coming or not is the key question. With a lurching feeling in your stomach, you realise that the best chance you may be able to give Todd to surprise your captor might come from letting him fuck you and keeping him distracted that way. But he did say he would kill you when he was done, so there's no guarantee that he won't be finished with you and then be entirely prepared for Todd's return.

The endless, futile thoughts are interrupted when he shouts, stamping a heel into the floorboards, making you jump in surprise.

"Lucky ol' Clarence," he muses. "Nice lil' place you got here. Might be I'll stick aroun' once I'm finished with you." He crosses the room back to you, grinning madly, his free hand fumbling with his belt. "Speakin' of which..."

He doesn't kill you as soon as he's done, but you don't think it will be long before he does. You're on your side on the hard floor, your legs tangled up with the jeans and panties that he pulled down to your ankles. The burning sensation between your legs is matched by the burning shame in your chest, the burning tears on your cheeks. Your jaw is sore, both from where he threw a punch to stun you into compliance, and where it's painfully stretched by the thick stinking leather of his belt lodged between your teeth. The hard brass buckle bites into the skin at the top of your spine, hair tangled in it, making it painful to turn you head even a fraction.

He's not here right now, muttering about needing a piss after he finished. You might have been able to save yourself with this opportunity, but he had the forethought to securely tie your bootlaces to the central bar of the cuffs, keeping your body bent back backwards in a vicious curve that makes it impossible to move in any useful way. Your muscles are screaming already, though whether from his rough treatment during the act or from his tying you up like this you can't tell.

There's nothing you can do. Your situation is hopeless. The final glimmer of hope you had is then lost when you hear footsteps and voices outside.

"Hold it there boy," you hear him growl. "You mus' be the boyfrien'. Unlucky for you that your cunt bitch in there's a liar. No, you put that down boy, real slow like. Go on." You hear a rustling, and the sound of Todd's rifle thudding on the ground. "Naw step over here boy. You'll wanna see her, I think."

"What have you done to her." Todd's voice is full of loathing. Of fear. He's trying to be strong, but you can tell he's on the edge.

"You'll see. Git. Go on naw."

You hear more footsteps approaching the cabin. As soon as the light from outside is blocked by someone standing in the doorway, you hear a gasp from Todd and him hurrying over to you. You desperately try to warn him off, tell him not to run to you, but to where the pistol on the shelf is, just a few feet to the right, but he can't understand and he only sees you. Your heart sinks when his knees thud into the wood by your shoulder, his hands on your naked flesh, his cry of anguish in your ears.

Staring up at him, eyes locked on his. You're both sobbing. And then you hear a shot. Gore splatters over your body. Another bang, and again you're sprayed with it. Agonisingly slowly, Todd collapses, falling to the floor by your side, and you scream and wail through the leather in your mouth until your throat is raw.

It won't be long now. Not long at all.