Crescent Smile ~ John Marston Story

☆. 𓍊𓋼𓍊 ☽Chapter 1☾ 𓍊𓋼𓍊.☆

(Unedited)
Word count: 4731
{Listen while you read?~I recommend Carnage by The White Buffalo}
⚠️ smut warning ⚠️
beginning 🛑 and end 💚 of it is marked so you may skip it if you want.
☽✫. 𓍊𓋼𓍊. 𓋼𓍊»»——⍟——««𓋼𓍊. 𓍊𓋼𓍊.✫☾

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a bright, unforgiving light over the farm. Dixie sat at a table in the saloon in Armadillo, her father across from her, engaged in a lively conversation about the latest gossip around town. She smiled and laughed at his stories, but her mind drifted back to the farm, to Jack, and the unease she felt in that back of her mind ever since that night she dreamed of the walking dead.

"Everything alright, Darling?" her father asked, noticing the slight frown that creased her brow.

"Just thinking about home," she replied, forcing a smile. "I hope Jack's behaving himself."

"Kids will be kids," he chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "You worry too much. He's probably out chasing some chickens with that mutt of his."

Dixie nodded, but the knot in her stomach refused to loosen. She took a sip of her drink, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that had settled over her. A shadow of a thought lingered in her mind, a sense of foreboding that something wasn't right.

Meanwhile, back at the farm, Jack was playing near the barn, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the ground. He had been feeling restless, and with his parents away, he decided to explore a little further than usual. He wandered into the barn, the familiar scents of hay and leather comforting him. But as he moved toward the back where the old tools were kept, he heard an odd noise—something like a low groan.

Curiosity piqued, he stepped further in, peering around a stack of hay bales. There, half-hidden in the shadows, was a figure, its clothes tattered and its skin an unhealthy gray. It turned toward Jack, eyes hollow and lifeless, and before he could react, it lunged.

Back in Armadillo, Dixie's laughter faded as an inexplicable chill ran down her spine. She glanced at her father. "I think I should get back home," she said abruptly, her heart racing.

"Dixie, you just got here," he protested.

"I know, but something feels off. I need to check on Jack," she insisted, rising from the table.

Without waiting for a response, she hurried out of the diner, mounting her horse and urging it into a gallop. Dust kicked up behind her as she raced down the dirt road, the landscape flying by in a blur. But the sight of Seth standing on the side of the road made her pull her horse to a stop.

"Hey, Seth!" she called out, her voice cutting through the tense silence of the evening, laced with a hint of urgency.

He looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to relief. "Dixie! Oh, thank the stars you found me! You won't believe the things I've seen!"

Seth stepped closer, almost bouncing on his heels, but the sight of him—his coat dirtier than usual, his face smudged with grime—sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm telling you, it's the end, Dixie! The dead are walkin'! Just like in them stories we used to hear by the campfire!"

Dixie raised an eyebrow, a mix of concern and disbelief furrowing her brow. "Seth, you know I care about you, but you've been out in the sun too long. You can't honestly expect me to believe—"

"No, no! Listen!" he interrupted, his voice rising with urgency. "I was out near that old graveyard, you know the one. Saw a man get bitten right in front of my eyes! I thought he was ready for a grave, but then—then he just sat up like a rattlesnake after a cold winter! Deader than a rock, but walking!"