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"There's not enough room in this forum for the two of us." FM slammed his emptied whisky glass down on the wooden counter. "Step outside, Grix......"
Grix eyed FM carefully. They'd known each other for a long time, but things had been gettin' a little strained lately."
"What's this about, FM," he demanded, making his way through the packed but hushed saloon and pushing the swinging doors outwards as he stepped onto the dusty ground outside.
"Well," replied FM, pushing open the doors again and following Grix outside into the hot, dry air, "You've bushwhacked one of my topics just one time too many. It's time we had this out. Mano a Mano. Poster to Poster."
Grix paused in his stride to think of a witty retort about FM's last comment, then decided that now was probably not the time.
"So, what's it to be? 10 paces, turn and fire?" asked Grix, making sure his gunbelt was fastened properly.
"You know me better than that, Grix. 30 paces." FM checked his gunbelt. The Smith and Wesson 6-shot revolver hung loosely at his right hip.
They stood back to back under the glare of the midday sun, and started to count.....
1....2....3....
The occupants of the saloon were packing the windows trying to get a glimpse of the showdown outside. This was unheard of. The last shootout in the town of Last Chance Reserve had been quite a time ago, when the Er-no posse had cleaned out the Desperate Dans, but this was different. Two equally matched opponents were about to face off.
Insane Bartender was going even more nuts behind the saloon's counter because he was losing good sales whilst all this was going on.
Outside, the count was at 25.... as FM glanced to his right and saw PB on the roof of the Red Splat Hotel and Boarding House, shotgun at hand. PB nodded with a knowing look. FM nodded back.
The count was 26.... as Grix looked across to the SR Saddlery, where he spied Sniper with his trusty Winchester Rifle. Grix gave a brief nod. Sniper returned it.
27....28...29..
Dust whirled up as both men spun to face each other. The blast of PB's shotgun firing both barrels broke the deafening silence that preceeded it, and a cloud of sand flew up at Grix's feet as the buckshot ploughed into the ground.
Grix drew his gun and took aim, FM was still drawing his because he was left handed and his belt was on the wrong way, Sniper fired his rifle, and there was a sharp report, then a clatter as PB dropped his shotgun and swandived off the roof of the hotel and landed in a horse trough.
FM grappled with his pistol, it had snagged in the holster, and he reminded himself to be more careful where he left his chewing gum.
Grix took pity. (No he didn't). Grix fired his gun. Fortunately, FM and done his research and Grix's eyesight wasn't as good as it should have been, and at 30 paces it was like trying to read a Wanted Poster through a mirage. Grix's first bullet flew out of town faster than a newbie Gameaday winner. He wasn't sure if he had hit FM or not, but then he heard FM pull back the hammer of his Smith and Wesson with a
*click*
Grix eyed FM carefully. They'd known each other for a long time, but things had been gettin' a little strained lately."
"What's this about, FM," he demanded, making his way through the packed but hushed saloon and pushing the swinging doors outwards as he stepped onto the dusty ground outside.
"Well," replied FM, pushing open the doors again and following Grix outside into the hot, dry air, "You've bushwhacked one of my topics just one time too many. It's time we had this out. Mano a Mano. Poster to Poster."
Grix paused in his stride to think of a witty retort about FM's last comment, then decided that now was probably not the time.
"So, what's it to be? 10 paces, turn and fire?" asked Grix, making sure his gunbelt was fastened properly.
"You know me better than that, Grix. 30 paces." FM checked his gunbelt. The Smith and Wesson 6-shot revolver hung loosely at his right hip.
They stood back to back under the glare of the midday sun, and started to count.....
1....2....3....
The occupants of the saloon were packing the windows trying to get a glimpse of the showdown outside. This was unheard of. The last shootout in the town of Last Chance Reserve had been quite a time ago, when the Er-no posse had cleaned out the Desperate Dans, but this was different. Two equally matched opponents were about to face off.
Insane Bartender was going even more nuts behind the saloon's counter because he was losing good sales whilst all this was going on.
Outside, the count was at 25.... as FM glanced to his right and saw PB on the roof of the Red Splat Hotel and Boarding House, shotgun at hand. PB nodded with a knowing look. FM nodded back.
The count was 26.... as Grix looked across to the SR Saddlery, where he spied Sniper with his trusty Winchester Rifle. Grix gave a brief nod. Sniper returned it.
27....28...29..
Dust whirled up as both men spun to face each other. The blast of PB's shotgun firing both barrels broke the deafening silence that preceeded it, and a cloud of sand flew up at Grix's feet as the buckshot ploughed into the ground.
Grix drew his gun and took aim, FM was still drawing his because he was left handed and his belt was on the wrong way, Sniper fired his rifle, and there was a sharp report, then a clatter as PB dropped his shotgun and swandived off the roof of the hotel and landed in a horse trough.
FM grappled with his pistol, it had snagged in the holster, and he reminded himself to be more careful where he left his chewing gum.
Grix took pity. (No he didn't). Grix fired his gun. Fortunately, FM and done his research and Grix's eyesight wasn't as good as it should have been, and at 30 paces it was like trying to read a Wanted Poster through a mirage. Grix's first bullet flew out of town faster than a newbie Gameaday winner. He wasn't sure if he had hit FM or not, but then he heard FM pull back the hammer of his Smith and Wesson with a
*click*
Page:
The preacher was worried. there were powerfull forces at work. Forces that would never side with him.
The preacher needed to work harder on the people, but first he'd need to gain their trust.
Could be done easily with a new face, he thought.
---------------------
Jenny had had enough. In the past few days she had seen her plans to make something better of her life slowly slip from her grasp.
All that she had put up with for so long seemed to be for nothing.
Well she had had it.
No more of this crap would she take. Not in this town.
Her bags were packed, and she was lugging them towards the station. It's funny how your whole life can be fitted into a suitcase, and carted away. Was this all her life was worth?
The case was heavy, and she'd have to get a move on if she wanted to catch that last train.
"Need a hand with that suitcase Ma'm?" Came a voice from out of the shadows.
"Come here, let me help you. Let me save you."
The preacher needed to work harder on the people, but first he'd need to gain their trust.
Could be done easily with a new face, he thought.
---------------------
Jenny had had enough. In the past few days she had seen her plans to make something better of her life slowly slip from her grasp.
All that she had put up with for so long seemed to be for nothing.
Well she had had it.
No more of this crap would she take. Not in this town.
Her bags were packed, and she was lugging them towards the station. It's funny how your whole life can be fitted into a suitcase, and carted away. Was this all her life was worth?
The case was heavy, and she'd have to get a move on if she wanted to catch that last train.
"Need a hand with that suitcase Ma'm?" Came a voice from out of the shadows.
"Come here, let me help you. Let me save you."
Ant finally reached the light of the morning sun. After being in that dingy underground place it seemed so fresh and new. He breathed in the air, as if it was the first time and felt it fill his lungs. He was more sure of himself now than he had ever been in the past, he knew excactly what to do.
Holding his staff aloft, Ant looked at the distant hills, light streaming from the staff and from his eyes as the power built up inside him. He called out to the wilderness in a deep and strange voice that came from somewhere beyond this world, "Ancestors. Hear me. Those who are crawling must now be made men and those who are resting must rise. There is evil to be avenged and this is the time to avenge it!"
In the distance the earth moved. Thousands of ants shook and vibrated to the distant sound of the voice. They grew in size and their forms started to change into that of men, of warriors. Elsewhere, graves of dead indian tribesmen, who had lain their for centuries started to move and bodies rose up out of them, like spirits rising from a dead man. The armies of the Crow Sun were reborn and ready to avenge their fate.
-----------------
In the town Sheepy the gunsmith was trying to get the group's attention. Pb Venombyte and FM were still watching the scene outside. Now Joe and Ali had been cut down, they stood in the middle of the gallows stand back to back, one facing Tony's supporters and the other facing Mekas. The anger on the faces of the crowd was clear to see and there was only so much time before a mass brawl ensued. Venombyte and the others knew this would be highly dangerous with so many weapons in sight, but they didn't know exactly how bad it could get. There was something hidden under the gallows that would potentially be lethal to everyone...
Sheepy rushed over to FM. "There's something you must see." he said, pulling him by the sleeve. "I should have shown you earlier, but you MUST see it now..."
They left the angry scene and all followed Sheepy down to his celler. In between barrels of wine and various fuses, there was a simple wooden table. On the table was a wooden picture frame containing some old pages of a manuscript.
"This," said Sheepy, holding the pages carefully, "is what that is all about." he motioned to the roof, where the crowd could still be heard, even under many feet of concreate.
FM took the frame and smashed his fist through the glass. Shaking off the small fragments still on the pages he began to read.
'Diary of John Readman.
August 10,
These pages are a warning to anyone who lives in this town, not knowing the inherent evil that lurks here, feeding on man's greed, power and jealousy. heed these words, for they are true.
I am one of the last survivors of the Gold Rush. It all started to go wrong when our town sheriff betrayed the indian tribe who showed him to the gold in the hills. Sheriff Jake Dragon left his wife and baby son, Meka, to go and search for the gold. He never returned.
Many say that they saw a dark man enter the town that day. He looked old and thin, but wore a grim smile and said nothing to the passers by. Only I and two others knew what he really was, as we had friends in the indian tribe that had been spared the terrible fate of their friends and family. They told us of a spirit so dark that no ordinary man could destroy him. They said that this town was raised on unholy ground and that he would come back when the time was right to feed on souls that had done his bidding.
The new families that moved into this town had all been tainted by his evil and, although some were strong enough to overcome it, most became greedy and cared only for themselves. When this energy builds to a certain level he will come. Only those with the spirit of Crow Sun, the indian tribe and the ancestors of the towns people that survived can stop the town being swallowed by this man and only a chosen three can thwart his feast forever by destroying his soul and sending him back to the dark realms.
Now I must join my family in the spirit world, but there will be no peace for us until this is over.'
They all stood in the celler, pale faced and not daring to say a word.
---------------
Holding his staff aloft, Ant looked at the distant hills, light streaming from the staff and from his eyes as the power built up inside him. He called out to the wilderness in a deep and strange voice that came from somewhere beyond this world, "Ancestors. Hear me. Those who are crawling must now be made men and those who are resting must rise. There is evil to be avenged and this is the time to avenge it!"
In the distance the earth moved. Thousands of ants shook and vibrated to the distant sound of the voice. They grew in size and their forms started to change into that of men, of warriors. Elsewhere, graves of dead indian tribesmen, who had lain their for centuries started to move and bodies rose up out of them, like spirits rising from a dead man. The armies of the Crow Sun were reborn and ready to avenge their fate.
-----------------
In the town Sheepy the gunsmith was trying to get the group's attention. Pb Venombyte and FM were still watching the scene outside. Now Joe and Ali had been cut down, they stood in the middle of the gallows stand back to back, one facing Tony's supporters and the other facing Mekas. The anger on the faces of the crowd was clear to see and there was only so much time before a mass brawl ensued. Venombyte and the others knew this would be highly dangerous with so many weapons in sight, but they didn't know exactly how bad it could get. There was something hidden under the gallows that would potentially be lethal to everyone...
Sheepy rushed over to FM. "There's something you must see." he said, pulling him by the sleeve. "I should have shown you earlier, but you MUST see it now..."
They left the angry scene and all followed Sheepy down to his celler. In between barrels of wine and various fuses, there was a simple wooden table. On the table was a wooden picture frame containing some old pages of a manuscript.
"This," said Sheepy, holding the pages carefully, "is what that is all about." he motioned to the roof, where the crowd could still be heard, even under many feet of concreate.
FM took the frame and smashed his fist through the glass. Shaking off the small fragments still on the pages he began to read.
'Diary of John Readman.
August 10,
These pages are a warning to anyone who lives in this town, not knowing the inherent evil that lurks here, feeding on man's greed, power and jealousy. heed these words, for they are true.
I am one of the last survivors of the Gold Rush. It all started to go wrong when our town sheriff betrayed the indian tribe who showed him to the gold in the hills. Sheriff Jake Dragon left his wife and baby son, Meka, to go and search for the gold. He never returned.
Many say that they saw a dark man enter the town that day. He looked old and thin, but wore a grim smile and said nothing to the passers by. Only I and two others knew what he really was, as we had friends in the indian tribe that had been spared the terrible fate of their friends and family. They told us of a spirit so dark that no ordinary man could destroy him. They said that this town was raised on unholy ground and that he would come back when the time was right to feed on souls that had done his bidding.
The new families that moved into this town had all been tainted by his evil and, although some were strong enough to overcome it, most became greedy and cared only for themselves. When this energy builds to a certain level he will come. Only those with the spirit of Crow Sun, the indian tribe and the ancestors of the towns people that survived can stop the town being swallowed by this man and only a chosen three can thwart his feast forever by destroying his soul and sending him back to the dark realms.
Now I must join my family in the spirit world, but there will be no peace for us until this is over.'
They all stood in the celler, pale faced and not daring to say a word.
---------------
I do too Ant... I'm sorry I missed part of your post, but everyone does it!
Ant - I read them!
Grix Thraves wrote:
> Oh... you wrote it didn't you...
Well, that explains it then.
> ;0D
Yep.
No one read's my posts.
I don't think I'll bother writing any more.
> Oh... you wrote it didn't you...
Well, that explains it then.
> ;0D
Yep.
No one read's my posts.
I don't think I'll bother writing any more.
Oh... you wrote it didn't you...
Well, that explains it then. ;0D
Well, that explains it then. ;0D
Where the hell does it say the stranger is unconscious?
I thought the stranger was unconscious.
I suppose he woke up.
MEANWHILE..
Ant continued to dig.
I suppose he woke up.
MEANWHILE..
Ant continued to dig.
So... at last. Here it was.
Sunrise.
The clouds filtered the light in a colour that, even so common in these lands, was as beautiful as always... and in such an intensity, that even the hard skinned stone hearted cowboys of the east always sighed at the sight of it...
But at the moment, at least, Grix wasn't looking towards the sun, or at the filtered sky... oh no...
Grix was looking at the floor... as the light began to bounce around the shining floor.
"Now..." The stranger said... "We shall see..."
Red light beams reflected from the walls... and hit the tiles on the floor... The tiles shone, and pure light, of which Grix had never seen, took control of the whole temple, as it were...
The tile marked one, tilted... by some sort of mechanism under the shrine perhaps... and the light reflected from the tile shone straight at Grix... red light covered his chest...
Behind him, the tile marked two also began to rotate... the stranger walked away from the shrine... as the floor began to shake around him...
Before long, all twenty four tiles were positioned equally so the red light of the sun shone directly onto Grix's body...
-------------------
White sand.
Pure white.
But why?
"Time will tell... but time is quickly running out for us."
Grix turned around... the warm sea air drifted through his clothes... every breathe he took, made him feel good...
There was a man standing behind him... a man who reminded him of... himself... he looked so much like him... but, he was... different.
"Hello there Grix. I have much to tell you."
Grix looked to the sea, and watched the waves crash into the foam... and the white horses reach the white sand on the perfectly clear day with pure sunlight reflected from clear water...
Grix looked back to the man. "Who are you?"
"I... am your thoughts, your inner meaning... your concience."
For some reason... Grix found this easy to believe... it was a hot day on a beautiful beach... why shouldn't he believe it? He felt so safe...
"So where are we?"
The man looked out to the sea... the warm wind taking the memories of past away.
"This is what you have created... in order to meet me. Obviously I am unable to meet you person to person, so I must have a way of contacting you... this is, at the moment, our only means of communication."
Palm trees swayed.
"But why do you need to contact me anyway?"
Grix's mind looked into the everlasting sands... they continued forever... but the sea was never far behind.
"In a prequel to fate," the man said. "No one person has control over anything, and no one person will ever know what will truly happen."
Grix looked at his mind... speaking his own thoughts for him.
"What can happen, however, is what must happen."
The man looked into nothing, and then stared back.
"We have run out of time... you must return now."
Grix thought to himself... "What should I tell the stranger, outside?"
His mind spoke instantly. "Tell him that the watcher's eyes are open."
Grix smiled to himself... "Then what shall I call you?"
"My name?" The man said... Grix nodded... "I think you already know."
Grix smiled again... and the stranger woke him up.
Sunrise.
The clouds filtered the light in a colour that, even so common in these lands, was as beautiful as always... and in such an intensity, that even the hard skinned stone hearted cowboys of the east always sighed at the sight of it...
But at the moment, at least, Grix wasn't looking towards the sun, or at the filtered sky... oh no...
Grix was looking at the floor... as the light began to bounce around the shining floor.
"Now..." The stranger said... "We shall see..."
Red light beams reflected from the walls... and hit the tiles on the floor... The tiles shone, and pure light, of which Grix had never seen, took control of the whole temple, as it were...
The tile marked one, tilted... by some sort of mechanism under the shrine perhaps... and the light reflected from the tile shone straight at Grix... red light covered his chest...
Behind him, the tile marked two also began to rotate... the stranger walked away from the shrine... as the floor began to shake around him...
Before long, all twenty four tiles were positioned equally so the red light of the sun shone directly onto Grix's body...
-------------------
White sand.
Pure white.
But why?
"Time will tell... but time is quickly running out for us."
Grix turned around... the warm sea air drifted through his clothes... every breathe he took, made him feel good...
There was a man standing behind him... a man who reminded him of... himself... he looked so much like him... but, he was... different.
"Hello there Grix. I have much to tell you."
Grix looked to the sea, and watched the waves crash into the foam... and the white horses reach the white sand on the perfectly clear day with pure sunlight reflected from clear water...
Grix looked back to the man. "Who are you?"
"I... am your thoughts, your inner meaning... your concience."
For some reason... Grix found this easy to believe... it was a hot day on a beautiful beach... why shouldn't he believe it? He felt so safe...
"So where are we?"
The man looked out to the sea... the warm wind taking the memories of past away.
"This is what you have created... in order to meet me. Obviously I am unable to meet you person to person, so I must have a way of contacting you... this is, at the moment, our only means of communication."
Palm trees swayed.
"But why do you need to contact me anyway?"
Grix's mind looked into the everlasting sands... they continued forever... but the sea was never far behind.
"In a prequel to fate," the man said. "No one person has control over anything, and no one person will ever know what will truly happen."
Grix looked at his mind... speaking his own thoughts for him.
"What can happen, however, is what must happen."
The man looked into nothing, and then stared back.
"We have run out of time... you must return now."
Grix thought to himself... "What should I tell the stranger, outside?"
His mind spoke instantly. "Tell him that the watcher's eyes are open."
Grix smiled to himself... "Then what shall I call you?"
"My name?" The man said... Grix nodded... "I think you already know."
Grix smiled again... and the stranger woke him up.
The three men watched from the side... FantasyMeister, still with Grix's rifle, took aim.
Venombyte and Pb squinted their eyes... could he really do
this?
------------
"As traitors to the cause of the town, all three of you shall be killed." Said Tony... but as if he was saying it to the crowd, rather than the accused...
"Do any of you have any final requests?" Asked Tony...
------------
"The gun's jammed." Said FM... "The stupid gun is jammed!"
------------
"No sir..." Said Ali... he had decided he was going to die like a man... no kicking or screaming, he had accepted his fate now...
"Nor me..." Said Joe. After hearing the loss of hope in Ali's voice, he couldn't help but just... give in...
Meka sighed... "No... let's get on with it..."
-------------
Venombyte pulled out his pistol... and handed it to FM.
"Do you think you can hit it with this?" He asked.
Fm looked at the gun... and looked at Venombyte. He had no choice. He took the gun, and took aim again.
-------------
Tony shouted to the men holding the trapdoors beneath the three about to be hung... "ON MY MARK!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
--------------
FM shot the barrel... and it immedietly exploded... and blew away the front leg of the water tower... which began to wobble, and then toppled in the direction of where the Preacher was standing...
But he wasn't there.
After a little celebration that it had actually worked... FM noticed that the Preacher was no-where to be seen...
---------------
"What the...?"
A tidel wave of dirty water hit the crowd like a fly hitting a window... and the crowd, along with the three men who would have opened the trapdoors, were washed away...
Tony screamed in fury... who the hell could have done this?
Ali jumped on Tony from behind... he had managed to free his hands in the last few seconds...
---------------
The Preacher marched through the sands again... Grix was too close now... he could feel the rites of the prophecy coming true... perhaps fate was inevitable after all...
Venombyte and Pb squinted their eyes... could he really do
this?
------------
"As traitors to the cause of the town, all three of you shall be killed." Said Tony... but as if he was saying it to the crowd, rather than the accused...
"Do any of you have any final requests?" Asked Tony...
------------
"The gun's jammed." Said FM... "The stupid gun is jammed!"
------------
"No sir..." Said Ali... he had decided he was going to die like a man... no kicking or screaming, he had accepted his fate now...
"Nor me..." Said Joe. After hearing the loss of hope in Ali's voice, he couldn't help but just... give in...
Meka sighed... "No... let's get on with it..."
-------------
Venombyte pulled out his pistol... and handed it to FM.
"Do you think you can hit it with this?" He asked.
Fm looked at the gun... and looked at Venombyte. He had no choice. He took the gun, and took aim again.
-------------
Tony shouted to the men holding the trapdoors beneath the three about to be hung... "ON MY MARK!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
--------------
FM shot the barrel... and it immedietly exploded... and blew away the front leg of the water tower... which began to wobble, and then toppled in the direction of where the Preacher was standing...
But he wasn't there.
After a little celebration that it had actually worked... FM noticed that the Preacher was no-where to be seen...
---------------
"What the...?"
A tidel wave of dirty water hit the crowd like a fly hitting a window... and the crowd, along with the three men who would have opened the trapdoors, were washed away...
Tony screamed in fury... who the hell could have done this?
Ali jumped on Tony from behind... he had managed to free his hands in the last few seconds...
---------------
The Preacher marched through the sands again... Grix was too close now... he could feel the rites of the prophecy coming true... perhaps fate was inevitable after all...
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