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So much for a vacation I guess...

crackwilly21

By crackwilly21
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crackwilly21 Explorer

crackwilly21

Posted
Posted

Man, work is TOO boring not to be dabbling around on the MUD. Although I'll probably drop all my serious chars, and just play around, I'll be here. Just don't expect anything serious from me for a while.

Crackwilly

EDIT: Please, direct all posts about me being a jackass to my PM box. :P

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Deykari Newbie

Deykari

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The crisp breeze invaded the air, making my hairs stand on end. I looked around the courtyard as the moon painted it in it's ambient glow, looking for the door. That door. The door that would lead me to what I had been searching for, for all these years.

I took a step towards it, breathing heavily on the smoke from my cigar. I looked down, and the smouldering end looked right back at me, staring me down as if it was the burning, hatred-filled eye of Him. That man. I knew what I had to do.

I took another step, and released my grip, listening for the sizzle as burning cigar hit moist ground.

It never came.

“Might want to be careful where ya litter, Crackwilly21.”

Him.

I turned around.

"Could be lookin' at twentay, maybeh thirtay years in the slammah for that."

I said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. I just stared, stared at his now motionless face shrouded by his hat, as his black cloak rippled in the breeze. He raised his hand, smoking the remains of a cigar. My cigar.

"Cat gotcha tongue?"

I took a step forward, my right hand resting upon the cold steel in my holster. This son-of-a-bitch wasn't going to get away with anything.

"Might wanna be careful wi'that shooter, Crackwilly21. Could have someone's eye out."

He laughed the laugh of a man with no morals; the laugh of a man possessed; the laugh of a man that no longer feared what would surely befall him. This had to end, and end now. I reached for my six-shooter, drew it at eye-level, and shot, all faster than the starter on an old '33 Coprille.

A miss.

"You son-of-a..."

I shot again, and this time I didn't have to gauge if I hit. The heavy thud as the body hit the ground was enough. I took a step forward, and picked up the the tip of the cigar that lay before him. Blood oozed from his mouth like a dame's ruby nail varnish jar poured on one side as he struggled to speak through his agony.

"You..you...why?"

I breathed in. Heavily. I felt the smoke hit the back of my throat harder than a redneck hits his own son for dropping a LoneStar. It was good. I looked away, flicking the tip. The scream told me it hit it's mark. I turned, and watched him writhing on the floor, one hand on his smouldering eye, the other on his chest wound. For the first time, I spoke.

"You know what I want."

He started at me, whimpering, his one visible eye welling up with tears. I had no sympathy. He struggled to breath as I took steps towards him; perhaps a punctured lung.

"It's...it's here..."

He reached inside his cloak, and pulled out a ticket. A flight ticket, marked with the words “Forsaken Lands”. I had what I wanted. And He got what he deserved.

“So it’s true then… nobody ever leaves for good.”

Another shot. I wait.

This time, he is silent

That night, not even the moonlight could paint over the thick crimson that pooled in the courtyard.

My work was done.

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Tantangel Apprentice

Tantangel

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reminds me of the "Gunslinger" series by Stephen King

That series so irked me at the very end. It was so very good, and then that one twisted little thing to throw it all for a loop was so imaginative that I was left thinking, "Holy ****, that was great." Yet it still made me mad despite being so very good.

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