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A BULLET IN THE HEAD
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It smelled like shit in the old wooden carriage. There were eight of them inside. Four men, four women. Face to face, shoulder against shoulder. All crammed in a small cage of wood.
Some men wore snappy clothes. Some women wore elegant dresses. Some of them wore nothing but tattered apparel. However all of them are equally covered in shit.
But amongst all of them, one stuck out. A man silent and brooding. His wide, white hat covering half of his face.
One of the snappy dressed men spoke out. "Hey, you. You a drifter?"
The man stayed quiet. His posture slumped back with his arms crossed.
"You seem to look the part. You have a gun or something?"
Still silence.
"Not much of a talker are you?"
No response.
"I know you can hear me! They haven't patted us down, maybe you have some kind of weapon with you. Help us out, will ya!?"
Even still, he did nothing.
"Tch, bastard." He kicked his toe in a fit.
The white hat man jumped with a snort.
"Wh-What?" He paused for a moment and yawned, "We there yet?"
The man stared at him, speechless. "You were asleep the whole time...?"
"I haven't slept for a while... Where are we going again?"
"To our death, dimwit." His face curled in anger.
"Ah right... And I just got my new duster." He sighed, "Unlucky..."
"H-How are you so calm...!?"
"Eh, dying ain't that bad. Your vision goes black and that's it. After that is just providence."
"You're mad."
"Who isn't?"
The carriage door opened. The setting sun's light blinding everyone inside. Only the shadow of their captor shaded their eyes.
"Get out, one at a time!" Their captor yelled.
Those inside the carriage stepped down. Their arms up in the air as they formed a line. Men masked in red surrounded them. Their guns aimed and ready.
The men escorted them infront of a lone dusty wall. By the looks of it, it used to be a wall of a slate building. Now it's only a fragment of it.
In the middle of a line of men, sat one man. With a bushy beard and a sombrero, the man grinned with his faced masked in shadow.
"Welcome, scum of Yellowater." The man spoke in the most raspy of voices, "Apologies for draggin' y'all 'ere in the middle o' nowhere."
The people were then lined up in front of him. The sun blared at their eyes, while the men in red stood with the sunlight behind their backs.
"Y'all are 'ere as a example. Voluntarily or not. Ya see, yer mayor has defied the Scarlet Shepherds, so we're showin' 'em the consequences of said defiance... By killin' all of yas."
They gasped a short air. Some started weeping at the thought.
"Now now, let's not get too emotional. Keheh. Face the wall." The man gave an awful smile.
YOU ARE READING
Them Heartless Bastards!
AdventureHe can't die. He can't live. He is both cursed and blessed by the False Heart. Fredonia was once the jewel of the new world, and yet it is now infested. The blood red roots has conquered the west, their deathly touch contorts the body and mind of an...
