Ol' BootHill (A Doc Holliday fic)

Prologue

   

    The desert sand sparkled as a gang of cowboys invaded a small Mexican village. Babies cried, women screamed, and men fought, though they were no match for the red clothed outlaws. Revenge was in order, for a man of this village had murdered the pregnant wife of the groups leader. They rode through pathways torching houses and shooting anyone in range, sympathy was not something they knew.

    "One of your men killed my girl! Now you're all gonna pay!" Clifford yelled. He stormed with his men into houses looking for the man. A few scorched homes later, they found him. Clifford grabbed the man by the collar, "You señior are gonna die today, but not before you watch your family die first. Grab 'em,". The other cowboys dragged him to watch the fate of his wife and child. "Come out, missy! We're not gonna hurt 'cha, don't worry,". The cry of a baby came from the wardrobe, giving their hiding place away. Clifford swiftly opened the wooden door revealing a woman cradling a baby girl in her arms. The woman cried silent tears as she pleaded for her and her daughter's lives. Her sad eyes stared at her husband who's head was being forcefully turned in her direction.

    "Señior, por favor. No la lastimes," The woman's voice cracked as she spoke through her tears, clutching her baby close to her heart.

    "Sorry, no hablo espanol," Clifford said ruthlessly. A scream and a single gunshot was heard. A bullet to the head. As the woman slumped to the bottom of the wardrobe she held her baby close to protect her as if she was still alive. Clifford pried the child out of the lifeless hands holding her and stared at the baby. Visions of what could have been passed through his mind. Of him, his wife, and their newborn child, sitting together looking at the stars by a bonfire. What could have been. The child's round hazel eyes were filled with tears. That saddened him. He had a job to do. He quickly put his poker face back on when he heard one of the other cowboys talking.

    "So what er' we gonna do with it Cliff?" Benny, the youngest, asked. Clifford looked down at the child once more. That man needs to feel the pain he put me through.

    "We take the girl," Clifford spoke sternly.

    "No!" Her father yelled. The outlaw restraining him bashed him on the back of the head with his pistol, knocking the man unconscious. They left him to burn.

    "Cliff, hate to brake it to ya, but how are you sposto' raise a child in our conditions? Before we had Clara, she was good at that type of stuff. Who's gonna do that now?" Lou asked.

    "We'll figure it out when we get back to camp. Let's get going," Clifford put the baby in a blanket and tucked her into his vest. Securing her with one arm and the other holding the reins, they road off to camp, with the village blazing as bright as the sun.

* * *

    The campfire flickered as Clifford cradled sleeping the baby in her blanket. The desert was a strange place, scorching in the day, and freezing at night. He watched as her face scrunched up whenever wind blew or the fire cracked. Suddenly a voice drew him from his thoughts. "Have you figure out the whole name thing yet? I don't spose the old man gave it to us," Benny chuckled. Clifford sat thinking for a bit. Clara's mother's name was Victoria. Victoria. Clara always thought that was a swell name.

     "Victoria. That's what Clara would have wanted,".

pretty cray cray backstory frfr
Totalllyyyy was not inspired by Zorro at allll