Nepolionics

Stroy 2 in the short stories:

The air was thick with the rotten egg smell of the spent gun power the siege was ended and the army spread through the breach.
He dropped his musket and ran into the city, heart racing; but two short hours ago he’d been at camp preparing to head out, the elation he felt was tangible.
Shouts came from within the city as the city’s inhabitants defended their homes. He stopped in the middle of a street and looked round him. The night glowed orange with the flames from the burning defences; a plain wooden door caught his eye.
He walked up to it and tried the latch, it was locked. He took a step back and kicked at the lock, the door gave way. The house was dark, but by the light from the fires outside he could see the occupants had left, taking their valuables with them.
He stepped back into the street moved to another door and tried the latch. This one was open.
The house beyond was lit by lanterns that flickered in the draught from the open door. He moved through the lower level carefully, opening occasional draws and taking the coins he found.
He went to the stairs and drew his pistol and began to ascend.
A shot cracked and missed his head by inches, a young man at the head of the stairs, musket aimed down, a girl of about seventeen cowered behind him. The young man handed the musket to the girl and ducked as the pistol flared. He stepped up the stairs and swung a punch at the young man, it hit him square in the jaw. He watched as the young man fell to the floor then aimed a kick at his head. The sound of the impact was sickening; the girl began to sob and tried to crawl away but the only escape, the stairs, was blocked. More kicks, more cracks of impact and a pool of blood filled the landing.

The girl had crawled into the bed room and was sobbing in the wardrobe. He opened the door and pulled her out. She scrabbled at his hand on her wrist. Kicking, biting, screaming, with his free hand he ripped her dress off, so he could see her body.
Arousal gripped him and he threw her on the bed and dropped his breaches, she tried to crawl away but he held her firm.
He used his weight to hold her down as he raped he, she screamed and yelled, but was one in a thousand women.
When he was done he redressed, she was left on the bed covering her nakedness with her arms. He went into the hall picked up his pistol and reloaded it.
He returned to the bed room levelled the pistol and fired.
Back in the street the fires had died down, but new ones had started and new screams filled the night.