It was suppose to be just a normal, quick and easy robbery of a seemingly desolate house. But how wrong were they? Upon entering the run-down front entrance, the place was trashed. Completely and utterly. You couldn't even tell where the floor started and where the trash ended.

"Damn place is a dump.."

Gruffed Arthur, making a small face at the stench of the place. Dutch nodded in agreement, wafting a hand in front of his nose

"Just keep looking. If there's nothing here, you deal with the bastards who tipped us off about this place."

Dutch said, glancing at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. Arthur nodded, and they both walked through the pigsty that seemed to be a house. They walked up the stairs, each step creaking under the combined weight of the two men, until they reached the top, both going into a room that looked like the master bedroom. At once, they began looking around, pocketing anything they deemed worthy of taking.

But they both froze after hearing a small creak of the staircase, and they both stepped closer to each other, hands already at the holsters of their revolvers as they inched closer to the door

"Who's there? You don't want to do anything stupid."

Called out Dutch, his voice stern and firm. Arthur glanced at him, both sharing a nod and Arthur flung the door open, both aiming their guns at a - ... A child? A kid. No older than 13. With dirt littering their clothes and face, clutching a small, worn-out animal in their bruised and cut arms, looking up at the two with big, curious and fearful eyes.