❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓!❞
A normal village girl's life was turned upside down ever since her family was killed by a gang of gunslingers. The wounds haven't healed and the memory still remains. She...
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"You fuckin' cheater! I knew you was cheatin' this whole game you fuckin' inbred bastard! I'll kill you!"
A man who participated in playing poker with a couple of "friends" said with an enraged tone. He stood up, quite forcefully, the chair that was supporting his weight was thrown down with a loud thud that echoed throughout the saloon. The flush on his face reminds you of the batch of strawberries Nana bought from the market. Still fresh and ripe.
Jeez, a bar fight at this time of day? Do people never get tired of themselves? A puff of annoyed air left your lungs.
You observed the brawl with a bored expression, how many times have you seen this exact same scene in your life? Surprisingly, a lot. Working in a saloon for a year seems to have numbed you from the stupid behaviors of men. May it be young or old, tall or short, they're all the same.
At the bar stool, you flicked your eyes towards your bartender acquaintance who's trying his best to not have a mental breakdown on the spot. Your (e/c) eyes stared at him sympathetically, man, you always felt bad for bartenders. Always having to clean after everybody's problem after a bar fight.
The cup of whiskey you held in your hand smells intoxicating. It was a good beverage to drink while you entertain yourself by watching men fighting. Blood, sweat, and tears all mixed together, creating a concoction of chaoticness bubbling inside the wooden building.
One sip of the amber liquid was enough to make you addicted; finishing the whole cup in one go, it burns your throat and warms your stomach as if someone just lit a firecracker in you. The aftertaste was foreign, unusual even, but you welcomed it with open arms.
"Thanks for the drinks, William." You waved your hand languidly, pulling out four silver coins from your pocket as a tip. "Good luck with this... mess. You surely need it." You mumbled the last part before trodding towards the double swinging doors of the saloon.
Your shoes shuffle from one side of the bar to another, loud roars of anger deafened your ears. Good thing you're not in on it.
"Where do you think you're goin', huh?" One of the men approached you like a beast, an intimidating aura surrounded his being like a cloak. Just as you turned your body around, a hard fist was met to your face, the strong strike made you stumble backwards against the saloon doors, bumping your head on it.
A groan leaves your mouth once the pain starts to kick in. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with the people of Wyoming? Are they all usually this intelligently challenged or do they just like hitting passers by for no reason? You touched your right cheek, a stinging feeling appears whenever you try to press on it.
'Oh, that's definitely going to leave a mark.' You winced.
Your eyes bulge out of their sockets when you see another upcoming strike coming from the man. Luckily, you dodged his hits repeatedly. Throwing in a punch or three towards his ugly face.
