Gatesville Bob is late to the blood party
Dec 7, 2017 1:01:56 GMT -5
Post by themirrorthief on Dec 7, 2017 1:01:56 GMT -5
There was a chill in the night. In the distance a hound bawled at
some danger, real or perceived. An owl watched nearby, its feathers
flickering in the wind and the bright moonlight. It was an unsavory
night, one filled with shadows and foreboding. The lonely country lane
was not inviting and most men would not have thought of traveling alone
down such a twisted path on such a unholy night, still hours before dawn.
He was not like other men, instead of hurrying he walked at a steady
pace.
Whilst passing a graveyard he neither hurried or slowed his
gait. He simply paid it no mind.
A decaying old manse stood besidethe road. Long abandoned,
it garnered only a glance from steely
blue eyes. A monument to bygone days it was, and nothing more.
The man walked on by. He was tall and dressed in dark clothes.
Is expression was calm, somber, collected. Then he heard sounds
coming from inside the old building, moaning, begging. HIs eyes
turned to slits and he turned around. Silently he moved with panther
like grace until he could see through a crack in the door. He made
up his mind quickly and opened the door with a crushing blow from his
mallet like fist. The crudely made thing flew from its hinges
and crashed to the ground.
Four men stood, each partially unclothed,
each waiting for their turn with the crying young girl who lay beneath
a fifth dirty vagrant.
"Go on your way stranger, there won't be any left for you," sneered
a tall gaunt man with an eye patch over one eye. "Never mind that
now," the dark stranger replied. "They call me Gatesville Bob and I've
come to kill you all." Bob lifted a heavy pistol and fired.
The
eye patch exploded into a bloody mess and the gaunt man fly backwards.
All thoughts of rape left the minds of the filthy bandits and their
hands darted towards weapons, knives, swords...crossbows.
Bob fired
his second flit lock pistol and a chuck of meant fell from a cursing
fiend's arm. Bob drew his sword and pierced a third man through the
lungs. He dropped spewing pinkish gore and choking on his own lifesblood.
"Hold there, I have gold I can give you stranger," it was the man that
had so recently been busy violating the girl. "Very well, stand and
deliver," Bob replied. The girl scrambled to find her torn clothing
as the bandit leader approached bob with a small leather bag that clinked
with the sound of metal...precious metal. Bob suspected treachery but he
was not prepared for the quickness of the bandit.
The man suddenly hurled
the bag and it struck a glancing blow off the Inspector's forehead. It
momentarily blurred Bob's vision and half stunned him. He slashed with
his sword but a heavy blow from a wooden object struck him down from
behind. The world swam in shades of red and black before the Inspector
collapsed, his limbs turned to water.
As if in a dream Bob heard the three living bandits arguing. This was most
unexpected because Bob expected death to come calling momentarily.
"I say we hang him," one man declared.
The one with the bloody arm adamantly demanded that he be given the honor
of slitting Bob's throat at once.
The third man, apparently the leader, and the one that had hurled the leather
bag at Bob had other ideas. "NO, I'll take his head with my sword and leave
it as a marker for my brother's grave. Billy didn't deserve to die tonight!"
The outlaw leader approached Bob, taking his time, gloating and blustering. He
waved his sword this way and that in a grandiose fashion. All these antics only
gave Bob time to partially recover his senses. The Inspector produced a tiny
derringer. His hand shook as he pulled the trigger but the ball took the
over confident assailant square in the chest.
The man glared foolishly at the
blood spurting from his chest as Bob called on his last reserves of strength
to pull himself to his feet. The would be executioner collapsed and Bob stood
tall, giving the two remaining animals his most fierce glare. He held his sword
at the ready, blood streaming down his face and his entire aspect twisted into
a horrible grimace that in no small way resembled a demon straight from hell.
It was all for show but the two bandits didn't know that, they ran.
Most criminals were cowards and that simple fact saved Bob. He sat back heavily on
a barrel and fumbled for the flask inside his coat.
He drank long from the flask, the brandy burned its way into his innards and re
kindled the fire that normally burned fiercely in the dark man's heart. "There
is nothing to fear now lass," he told the violated girl. "Would that I had killed
all of them but we'll settle for three dead and another likely to lose an arm."
"How can I ever thank you?" the girl asked softly. "Such courage as I witnessed
tonight is rare in these parts."
Gatesville Bob merely shrugged. "Perhaps a week, a year, or ten years from now I may
pass this way again. If you see me on the road, offer me a crumb or a drink. That
is all I ask...now help me to my feet and I'll escort you safely home."
:iconmeanus:
The Old Mansion
