A Judge and His Revolver

Chapter 2

Drex could smell the smoke long before he saw it and hear those shouting a ways before he could see them.

Degrond's Keep burned brighter than the sunset off into the horizon. Tes sprinted as fast as her Angmare legs would carry them. Drex had one hand on the reins, one holding his revolver.

God damn these Demons.

Freyol scaled the side of the wooden fort walls, their human hosts arms and legs contorting in ways their previous owners would never have been able to. Drex could see some atop already, chasing people across the wall, even some off of it.

They stood no chance. Freyol couldn't be killed by anything Degrond's Keep kept in its armory or in the sheriff's office. Sure they could slow them down, but they'd just enter a new host with each one of theirs that was shot.

Mala.

As they approached the walls, Drex leapt off of Tes at full speed, ducking and rolling through the dirt, Sageweed long having been cleared by footfall and shovel.

Six shots.

A Freyol far above him on the wall fell, landing at Drex's feet, a single bullet hole through his skull, dripping crimson.

Two Freyol fell from the wall, having only made it about halfway up. They didn't get back up and try again.

One Freyol fell at the feet of a crying mother and her child, mere seconds away from ending the child's young life.

Two Freyol had noticed Drex finally and began approaching him. One dropped instantly. The other looked down at its dead companion, then back at Drex twisted face hinting at confused.

"Shit."

He had forgotten to reload the bullet he had used earlier.

He reached down and pulled a knife from his boot, flinging it in a single motion at the approaching Freyol, face contorting in demonic rage.

The knife passed right through flesh and stopped deep within the Freyol's forehead, knocking the already oddly balanced creature onto the ground. Before it could get back up, Drex had reloaded his revolver and put another bullet into the brain of whatever poor soul this demon had inhabited.

The sound of the shots lasted far longer than the Freyol did. Everyone turned and looked at the source, as if the fight was over and parley had been called.

The people of Degrond's Keep gained confidence in seeing him, their eyes transitioning from horror to hope.

The Freyol looked disgusted. They hadn't expected Drex, Union Judge to be here. They didn't understand the speed of an Angmare nor the eagerness of a man who missed his wife.

"You call this peace!?" Drex screamed as he ran straight at the closest group of Freyol, turning the hunters into the hunted.

The first Freyol jumped at him, fingernails clawing and teeth gnashing. Drex lifted his left hand and snapped his fingers, releasing a spark that ignited his glove into flame. The flaming fist connected with the Freyol's skull and set its hair ablaze, knocking the burning creature to the ground. Drex continued forward, not looking as he fired a bullet behind him into the screaming Freyol.

You couldn't kill the bastards with fire, but you could sure make em' hurt.

The Freyol were backing away from Drex now, for he looked more demonic then even them. He was the ghost of a silhouette, the sun falling beneath the Adamar mountains behind him, one hand burning with flames, the other holding the only thing in this wasteland of a world that could send them back whence they came.