Angel of Death: The Pork, Stork, Bull, and Horse Playing Poker
He never could get use to the smells of the place, the mixture of cheap perfume, smoke and sweat had always made him want to turn and move in the opposite direction, yet he moved deeper into the hazy room. He idly rubbed his thumb over the butt of his gun feeling the tiny notches, silently counting them as he sat down near a table full of finely dressed ranchers consumed by their friendly poker game. For a while he watched the room then turned his attention to the wealthy men before him measuring them up the same way they studied their own cattle before they were sold and slaughtered, for one of these men had been sold for a pretty sum of money and it was His job to do the dirty work so he could collect on the rewarded money.
He watched the gentleman to his right, The Dealer, was short with more girth than substantial height he looked to be more of a pig farmer than a well known cattle brand. He checked the porker off and moved his attention on the to The Stork sitting next to The Dealer, he was a long thin man compared to the porker but frail and weak like a stalk of corn withering from poor rainfall. He sneered and moved on to The Bull. Here was a man worthy of his time, he would give him the fight he needed to feel like this job wasn't a waste of time and his bullet. It was clear that The Bull had built his fortune by breaking his own back and not the backs of his men like his fellow cattle raising peacocks had, he was a man who knew how to work and resented idleness. He smiled it was a shame that he couldn't be like that himself, in many ways he was but he would never be rich in the same sense The Bull was, but He too knew how to sweat and labor away for result, after all it was that mentality that brought him into Hell, to deliver his own judgment and the judgment of other wealthy men, men willing to see one man at the card table pay dearly. He moved on to the last player at the table, The Horse, was built the same way a farmer builds a scarecrow, lanky through the arms and legs but somewhat plump around the middle, yet it was his face that made him distinguished. The Horse's face was long as if one of the poor man's parents had mated with a saddle sore hag instead of another human, he even sounded like a donkey braying when he stuttered through what he claimed to be a hysterical joke.
He started counting the notches again, waiting patiently as he studied up on the cattle bosses, observing which one was the leader, which one was his quarry and which one was his boss. Regardless he would be paid his sum once his job was complete, he was never liable for any innocence that may step into the crossfire of justice. Righteousness and money made him squeeze the trigger, vengeance had never been a real issue for him in many, many years.
A movement to his left caught his attention, a dark angel walked toward the them catching The Bull's eye as she sauntered by the table. The Bull motioned her back over and offered the Angel his knee which she laughed her heavenly laughed as she took the offered seat. He glared at the girl whose skin was still caressed by innocence even as The Bull started his own caresses. He imagined that even angels sometimes fell off their pedestals of light. The whoring angel whispered into the Bull's ear as he tried desperately to speed the game along so he could go and play another type of game with the angel in the ebony dress. Still smiling the fallen angel looked over at where he sat and gave him a knowing look as The Bull shoved a large wad of bills down the front of her dress. He watched as she winked at him and pulled her hand out where it had been hidden in the midnight folds of her dress revealing a small pistol. He flinched cocking his own gun as he pulled it from his holster, already knowing she had beat him and she would be getting twice what he had been offered for the job. He snarled as he jumped to his feet as she put a bullet in The Bull's head. He shot the Porker in the back of the head and pointed his gun and the Angel in front of him as he reached out and grabbed the remaining cash on the table ignoring the chaos now filling the smoky haze, yet this is how it always was with public places, it was why he preferred the quiet darkness to strike and finish his job. He glared at the other poker players and the fallen angel who was already gone. Cussing he ran out of the back door into a dusty alley where he had left his horse. Swinging up into the saddle he knew he still had things to settle with the Angel who had stolen most of his money and his element of surprise. He tore off down the alley way and out of town knowing for the next few days he would be hunted, just like he always had, like he always would.