Dark Storms (Crankgameplays x Reader)

Epilogue

Friday, October 24, 1902  - 5 Years After

     London was filled with horse carriages, children running with happy faces and adults heading off to set destinations such as the store or work. Inside of a pub in the middle of the large town, a man had his feet propped up on a table with a glass of rum hanging in his limp arm. The piano was playing beautiful music as men in suits and women in beautiful exquisite dresses in and out of the pub. The man tapped his glass lightly before turning his head to the bartender.

     "Hey Butch! What day is it mate?!" The bartenders head rose from his intense glare on the glass, he cleared his throat before he spoke to the man waiting patiently for an answer.

     "Uhh Mr. Nestor... it is October 24, my good sir!" He called with a smile on his face looking to the clock, the whipped his head to face the person who had asked him. "Isn't today your sons birthday, Mark?" The bartender leaned against the wooden bar looking to the person sitting not far from him.

     The man now known as Mark nodded his head looking out the window to the cobble streets of London as he lifted his glass that was hanging low up to his lips and took all of the liquid into his mouth and swallowed it before slamming the glass onto the table then crossed his arms against his chest. Mark took a deep breath and lowered his head so his hat covered his face.

     "Happy 27th birthday Ethan, I miss you son," Mark whispered to himself before falling into a deep sleep.

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    Brian was sitting in front of the two graves he had dug up for (Y/n) and Ethan when they had died. He buried them by the farmhouse. They wanted to see the ocean so he wanted them to always see it even after death, he wanted them to be reminded of their love every second after death. He was drinking his pain away like he normally had done. But, today was different, he was drinking more and more because it was Ethan's birthday. The day he had died.

     "Happy birthday... I know, I know you are angry with me, I know what I did was wrong and I shouldn't have. I was just angry at you for choosing to be a outlaw over your friends and (Y/n)... I just- I didn't want any of this to happen. And, I am sorry. At least we can still have a drink for old times sake," Brian said softly to the grave where Ethan was buried. He took hold of two glasses and began to pour the liquor into each glass. Brian swayed at every move he made and leaned forward setting a single glass in front of Ethan's cross. "To freedom!" He mumbled out and lifted the glass to his lips drinking the whole thing in just seconds before taking Ethan's glass and pouring it on the ground in front of the grave.

      "Tonight we drink together one last time, like old times..." Brian set the glass down and turned his side a little grabbing his pistol from his holster and spun the cylinder. He moved the single bullet into another part of the chamber before spinning it again. "One last game? This time we can't play Five Finger Fillet so I thought maybe we could play a game of Russian roulette? Yeah?" Brian slurred drunkenly  smiling as he lifted the gun to his temple. 

     "One..." click.

     "Two..." click.

     "Thr-" BANG.

——————————

     Ever since the Marshall had witnessed Ethan die in front of him, he has been having nightmares every day and night even when he would walk around he would still see and hear the sounds of the people he had killed 5 years ago. Ethan made him see all he has done and now he had to deal with the fact he killed them all, his badge got confiscated after they found he had killed all his family members including innocent civilians and outlaws. In return for ending outlaws lives he was granted a pardon letter for murder of civilians and his family. But that doesn't mean he is safe from the hallucinations and nightmares of that year.

     Screams, flashes of each second before he watched them die in front of him, his daughters, wife, foes and old friends. He was alone in this world with no where to go besides back home to Manxanita Post where he lost it all. The fateful night he killed Ethan and his youngest daughter was haunting him and he wanted to go somewhere that would help him clear his head or at least help him discard of this terrible memory. He decided to go back up to Bearclaw Mountain where (Y/n) and Ethan would go to clear their heads. While riding up there he had the feeling that this wasn't going to help him and would only make the visions worse, but at this point he didn't care. The only thought that kept running through his head was Ethan's final words.

     "Go on Jim shoot me, you wanted me dead so why don;t you just fucking do it now! I an standing right here! Then I will see you in hell soon."

     He tried to shake the words from his mind, but it didn't work no matter how hard he tried. It was like Ethan didn't want him to forget and was pulling the strings to make him remember his words for the rest of his life.

     When he arrived at the top of the mountain he sat down where Ethan used to sit by the edge with his daughter, the memories of coming up there to get them repeated in his head over and over again. Their laughing and smiling faces covered every inch of his mind. He looked out into the distance to see the ocean tides far from him and the two towns. Jim lowered his head and fiddled with his fingers before the sound of boots cracking twigs caught his ears making his head perk up at the sound. A man in a black button up shirt, black jeans and a black cowboy hat that was lowered over his eyes so the moonlight didn't show his face. 

     "Howdy partner, what are ya doin; up here so late at night?" The man asked Jim as he walked over to him. Jim quickly stood on his feet and looked at the man who stood next to him now.

     "Just needed to clear my head, you?"

     "Me too, needed a moment to breathe ya know?"

     "I understand that, a man needs a break once and a while," Jim said chuckling a little to himself before looking back out to lit up town far by the ocean waters. After a moment of silence he looked back to the man who stood with his hands on his hips. "What's your name fren?" He asked him curiously.

      "My name don't mean much, I can't even remember it is the sad part, what about you?"

     "Jim (L/n)," Jim took hold of the mans outstretched hand and shook it firmly before putting his hands to his side again. Jim thought when he was shaking the unknown males hand that it felt familiar in some weir way, but the hand felt rougher than his familiar thought from before.

     "You were the man that took out that dangerous gang weren't you?" The unknown man questioned his newly found friend, he could hear the confusion laced in the voice that sounded from the blackness of the night.

     "Yep Mark Fischbach, Ethan Nestor, Tyler Schied and Sean McLoughlin..." The man nodded at Jim's response.

     "Have you ever seen death before Mr. (L/n)?" The unknown man randomly asked him making the older man turn to him and raise an eyebrow.

     "No, have you?"

     "Yep, he has cold soulless dark eyes that eat you alive from the inside out when you stare at them, he knows you and he knows all your sins. He counts them when you die, he hunts down the ones he is after and won't stop until he has them. He rides a pale white horse bringing death everywhere he goes. Are you sure you have never met him before?" Jim's eyes widened at his words then he thought back to Ethan and what Brian had said. Ethan had a pale white horse, someone always died when he was around. Jim turned back to the view not saying a word, in just seconds he got grabbed by the back of his shirt. The man turned him around with his hand holding onto Jim's shirt firmly, the fear filled Jim's eyes as he grabbed onto his so called friends hand that held him in place as the mysterious now hostile person lifted his hat up slightly.

     "Impossible! Ho-How?! You-!?" Jim's shaky voice soon faded when he felt his body be thrown off the cliff side, the man who had thrown him stood there watching as his victims body fly down to the bottom of the cliff, he was screaming the whole way down, but he knew no one could hear him. When he heard the distant thud of him hitting the ground he turned around to let the moonlight hit his face from under the hat. His hazel green-blue eyes shone in the moonlight and his brown hair rested under his hat. His face with filled with pure rage and satisfaction with himself.

     "I told you I would see you in hell..."