Author: undaed15 PM
the story of the six gunmen. one who fights with pistols. the other fights with knives. the two fight for good in this harsh land they call home. rated for later lauguage and volenceRated: Fiction T - English - Western/Supernatural - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,784 - Reviews: 3 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 11-28-12 - Published: 07-09-12 - id: 3040303
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The sun was setting on an old town. The town looked like it was right out of a western. Only it wasn't. In the saloon many things happened. Booze flowed, the chips clattered, and the sounds of men and women mingled in the still air.
At the bar there was a man. Looked about late twenties. Bearded with a rough looking beard he sat there drinking a few shots and also smoking a cigar. Near him a group of men sat down. They wore black and brown. Clearly from a gang.
The oldest, a young man, spied the stranger. This man full of stupidity and pride decided to have a chat with this man.
"Hey old man," said the prideful man "my name is John. And you haven't paid the toll."
His friends hooted with laughter. The strangers didn't even bat an eyelash at John who took as an insult.
"What old man you can't talk with the dirty people?"
The stranger turned and said
"You should shut up kid or you won't see tomorrow."
John reeled back in surprise. He had never taken an insult like this and he would not allow it. In a fit of rage he pulled out his pistol and shot off the end of the strangers' cigar. The strangers eyes suddenly went wide and he spoke with a tone that chilled everyone in earshot.
"That was the biggest mistake of your life. And you will not see tomorrow."
Then the stranger drew his pistol faster than anyone could see and shot John right between the eyes. The other gang members suddenly gasped. Their leader was killed. Their code dictates that this man must die. They all slapped leather. However two shots rang out. In the strangers opposite hand held another gun. Both barrels smoking. The gang members suddenly felt a tight pain in their chest when they looked down they saw a hole in it the four gang members fell down all taken down by just two bullets.
The stranger leaned over to the bartender and spoke casually to him
The bartender spoke casually to him
"A lot more. 300 in all."
The stranger chuckled
"I reckon it will be twelve."
"Twelve men you take down that may be right."
The stranger suddenly laughed
"No twelve bullets."
And with that he walked away.
Later that night
The stranger woke to the noise of men yelling. He got and looked out the window. He saw a group of 295 men. He knew what they were here for.
He then a voice from the crowed
"You killed our leader now we gonna kill you." Said the voice from the crowed
The stranger chuckled knowing how this is going to end. He walked outside into the light of the torches. He wore nothing but a trench coat, a pair of pants and a gun belt with two guns glowing in the light.
He walked in front of the group. And stood in front of them. The group suddenly opened fire. Twelve shots ran out. Suddenly almost everyone in the group fell down dead. The ones remaining were people who were forced to join this gang.
The stranger with his guns still smoking walked away. He reached the outskirts of town and whistled. Suddenly a daen, a creature resembling a dog horse hybrid, rode up. He mounted and yelled a word to get the daen moving.
The townsfolk wondered who he was.
But if they knew they would have coward in fear. For he was Michael the 1st gunmen. The pistol user. He was a killer. And he rode away.