The Colt (Supernatural Story)

Prologue

It was a warm summer day, the heat almost making it like a sauna in Samuel Colts home. It's the year 1835, there's no air conditioning, no fans, anything like that. He sat at his wooden desk, a black cloth splayed out in front of him, a couple lanterns lighting up the small room. A beautiful gun with engraved patterns along the barrel sat on the cloth, the words non timebo mala along the side. The handle was a dark brown, a pentagram carved into it.
He just finished making the last bullet, sweat beading down his face, his rag not even helping. His hands were caked with dirt and ash, the tip of his carving tool finishing up the pentagram. Sighing in relief, he picked up the gun, examining it closely, making sure everything was lined up. Staring straight down, he closed one eye before switching to the other eye. Blowing off any extra dust, he took out a leather pouch, putting the bullets inside, loading one up in the chamber just in case.

A knock was heard, and the door swung open, revealing a young girl, about ten years old in a white flower dress, cowgirl boots, and a hat over messy brown hair.

"Uncle Sam!" She said with a smile, running up to him, giving him a hug.

Samuel laughed. "What're you doing way out here, Lily?"

"Mommy and daddy are picking crops in the field. They said I could come say hi!"

"Oh, they're there? I might just have to say hi." He said, quickly putting the gun in the holster attached to his hip.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Why do you have a gun, Uncle Sam? Are we in danger?"

Giving her a reassuring look, he shook his head, his hand on her shoulder. "We're completely fine, little biscuit. Now why don't we go on back to your parents."

Leading her out, he took one last look at his home, and, putting on his hat, he shut the door behind him.