A little western Greta

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Traveling alone in the desert, you and your lonely brown horse stumbled across four horsemen. Of the apocalypse... you didn't know. All you saw was the silhouette of four riders backlit by the burning sun behind them. They looked like trouble.

You squint your eyes real hard, bringing your hand up to shield the burning light, but also to carefully study the motions of the rider in front. His white horse flapped it's white, long tail, and it glimmered elegantly in the light. The gentle smack of the reins against the horse's skin lead it to walk up to you, slowly. The rider had long, flowing hair, and a cowboy hat that perfectly shaded the sun from his face. His body moved fluidly with the walk of the horse.

The horse stopped. You waited in suspense for the rider to look up at you. His hat was the only barrier between you, and his identity. He finally looked up at you. You gasped at his beauty. the soft nature of his lips, even so with a mighty bite of dried blood on them. The scuffs and scratches didn't belong on his face, but yet somehow they worked all together.

"What's your name, darlin'?" He asked you. His velvety voice felt like it echoed across the dry plain. You hesitated.

"Name's (y/n)." You replied in a passive aggressive tone.

After a long pause, you asked the question he'd been waiting for you to ask.

"You got a name?" You squinted at him.

"I sure do darlin'."

"Well, what is it?"

"Jakey." He smirked after he felt it sink in.

Your stomach dropped. You were face to face with the deadliest gunslinger in the west, and you so happened to be attracted to him.

"This here is Josh," the man with the excellently kept mustache looked up from his gun, he had been interrupted by his twin when he was studying all the little scuffs on the iron, "'n' this is Sammy," Jakey pointed to his right, crossing over his horse. Sammy was dressed more elegant than the other boys. more clean and washed up. His hair came just below his ears. His soft, neutral expression as he made eye contact with you felt unique, "the one behind me's Danny." Jake lazily pointed with his thumb. Danny twirled his two guns in opposite directions, cleanly sliding them in one swift motion back into his holsters.

"Now why should I give two damns?" You asked, knowing damn well the legends of these boys.

"Well... it just so happens that all four of us... we've been lookin' for a girl named, (y/n)..." His attention was grabbed by the nearby, lonely tree. You felt your pulse begin to quicken. You started to sweat.

"Oh yeah? whats it mean to ya?" You replied calmly, with the same passive aggressive tone. You vaguely remember the man you killed back in town. You remembered the gun in your hand, and the dead son of a bitch who got it comin'. And then you remembered the blood red sash that had matched the liquid oozing out of his chest on the wood floor. All the boys shared one thing in common with that man. The bright red sash around their waists.You realized you had killed one of their own. Your pupils dilated with anticipation. You wondered if you were gonna get out of this debacle alive. The long, almost straight haired boy catched your gaze again with his hot, brown eyes. You grew tired and unable to move with the toxicity of his look.

He reached from behind him and pulled out a wad of paper. You knew this was it.

"five thousand dollars." He smirked again. The devilish smile rushing through your blood. He slowly unrolled the paper, facing it towards you. A mirror image of a familiar face appeared with bold letters around it.

"WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE"

"(y/n)"
"PRICED AT
FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS"

You we're speechless.

"Now you remember what you done, missy?" Jakey taunted coolly.

"He had it comin'!" You raised your voice slightly.

"Awww he had it comin' did he?" Jakey leaned back slightly on his white horse, taken aback by your persistence.

"He was one of our own!" Danny yelled from the back.
"Shouldn't mess with Jakey, darlin'." Josh had the slightest sass in his tone. You looked over at the short, curly haired boy, who was looking down, messing with his fingernails.
"Put a bullet in that bitch!" Sammy laughed, seeming to be amused by death, playing with it as if it was a toy.

As if on queue by the younger boy, Jakey pulled out his sleek pistol with a flashy twirl.. The shiny, silver metal gleamed in the hot daylight, and you felt death coming. As he cocked the gun painfully slow, you studied the softness of his roughed up hands, which wore dried blood and calluses. You looked into the barrel.

Jakey paused.

"Oh i'm not gon' shoot'cha in the head you old wretch!" He chuckled. Sam started laughing loudly at the boy's joke.
"Haha, shut up Sammy." He remained staring into your eyes, as Sam quickly hushed up. You felt all the boys eyes on you. Jakey guided the barrel down to the left side of your chest. You sighed a breath of relief, realizing that death wasn't as scary as you thought. And to think that this man is the one to do it had you pleased.

Jakey placed his finger on the trigger...

You heard a loud bang...

You were on the hot, dry, desert floor...

You turned to look at the boy on the white horse...

Then everything went black.

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