The Main Character

Local ruffians get drunk one night at the towns creaky saloon. After one to many complaints from customers ending in broken teeth and broken bottles, they are confronted by the peaceful sheriff. He tells them to head on home, but before they do they best clean up their mess. They ignore the the sheriff’s request as they take their leave. The young boy acting as their leader tries to bump into the sheriff, but inadvertently makes himself stumble out of the encounter. The patrons notice and let out a quiet snicker which infuriates the young man. He gets up in the sheriff’s face telling him he’s nothing but a glorified preacher with a revolver he doesn’t even use, yella belly he’s called. The sheriff’s faux bravado drops instantly as he loses composure and the uncomfort is clear in his face. He clutches the cross hung around his neck. They leave but not before they knock the sheriff’s hat off his head and boot him from behind, he drops to his knee and picks his hat off the floor The leader murmurs “you’re gonna regret arching up to the Sunkissed Kid” as he shoots out the tar like tabbacco out of his mouth.

The sheriff heads home and is greeted by his loving family. He tries to shrug off the boys’ comments but it irks him he isn’t respected enough in the town. The wife reassured him he’s well respected and loved in this house. They have supper out on the porch as a family, gazing up at the stars.

The next day the sheriff starts his morning patrol and check in at the saloon to make sure those boys ended up leaving. He’s told they came back in as soon as he left, when asked why they were let back in the owner shrugs and says not like he needs to listen to the sheriff, he’s got a business to run doesn’t matter if people get rowdy and have a fight.

The sheriff continues on and people barely regard his presence all he wants to do is help and protect people.

One of the boys from last night come running up and exclaiming that the pigs have gotten loose. The sheriff replies why isn’t he going to a butcher since its his stock. The boy told him he has actual important things to do unlike the sheriff, irking him more. But begrudgingly goes to help so the town doesn’t have a food shortage.

While this is happening the boy gives the sign to the gang and they make their way outta town.

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The sheriff’s wife and daughter playing outside their home as the gang can be seen approaching through the western heat bouncing off the ground.

The sheriff finishes up and gives the boy a wave as he smirks and begins trodding off on his horse. The sheriff takes a second next to his trusty stead before they begin the trek home for the evening.

On the approach home, the sheriff sees the house unlit, strange for this time of night and he speeds on home. He arrives to find his wife and child’s lifeless bodies piled on top of one another, their charred remains still warm. The sheriff falls to the floor distraught pleading for this to not be real, “let this be a terrible dream, oh lord! Please don’t take them away from me, my lord!” He cries out with a shout so painful the night sky almost swallows the stars to hide them away from such terrible pain. He lays there on the floor with them in his arms. He holds them tight, fearing if he let go they wouldn’t be there anymore.

His eyes close..and he sobs alone in the dark with what remains of his family, his entire reason of living. His world.

Snap.

Laughter can be heard coming from the saloon, drinks are flowing and the gang can be seen taking up the largest booth available. Round after round can be splayed over the table, “take it in, boys. Towns’ ours and these fine folk are under our protection!” Caws the young leader. The barkeep pipes up “you twerps ain’t protectin’ nothin’, don’t be talkin’ stupid.” The leaders grin doesn’t drop, he simply gets up slowly out of his chair and makes his way to the bar. The establishment bustling with chatter, the young leader in one smooth motion grabs the barkeeps head and slams it into the tabletop, breaking his nose. The kid clicks the hammer of his colt down and places the barrel to the owner’s skull.

“Now, whys ya gotta go and kill the mood, pal? Aintcha meant to just keep quiet and polish them glasses?” He spits on the owner’s face.

“Maybe y’all need to be told a bit more sternly. Like children. We own this town. We did what y’all wanted done. We are for the people. And now the people are for us. Why dontcha all raise a glass for the new sheriffs, huh?” He aims the gun to the rafters and lets off a shot. “I said raise your fuckin’ glass!”

The people scared, raise a toast to the young man.

“Thats more like it” he snickers.

The faint sound of spurs approach the dusty saloon and stop just short of the door. A harsh abrupt silence pierces the room. You could hear a pin drop.

All eyes hit the saloon door. A presence so thick and heavy its almost suffocating.

The harsh light from outside sihlouettes the figure in the doorway. And in a sharp breath, like a blur, the figure bursts through the swinging door. No one reacts to the first shot, except for the young man who caught the cullet through the throat. He falls back and fires up a he reaches for his throat, blood spewing out of the wound through the callused fingers.

The saloon erupts as people make for the door or take cover under tables and chairs. The gang react too slowly as the second and third shot hit the next member of the party, one in the shin and another to the top of the skull as he drops to clutch his shattered shin bone.

2 of the remaining 4 members of the gang reach for their pistols. One is lucky to secure one whilst the other is too slow, a small knife crashes straight through his hand and locks him in place. He shrieks as a brick finds a new home in his mouth breaking every tooth on the way in.

The other assailant lets off two random shots in hopes of hitting his target only to discover they are no longer in their line of sight. The figure comes rushing from the right, from his blind spot. A balled fist caves the right side of his face in, eyeball pierced by chunks of his cheek bone, the momentum of the punch is followed on with the figure rolling and lifting the mans neck up and twisting as he lands, killing him. 2 left.

One tries to tackle the figure to the ground but is stopped abruptly by a kick straight to the front of his knee, hyper extending and disconnecting the flesh from the bone like a chopstick extended past its breaking point. He drops face first screaming as the figure gets to their feet and punts him in the stomach, making the man roll over leaving his throat exposed. The figure plants his knee into the soft flesh of his throat and crushes his windpipe. The last man watches as the figure stand slowly to meet him, no tension in any muscle to try and decipher what his next flash of action could be. Impossible to read. The fear overtaking him, he slashes wildly at the figure in hopes of making this seeming nightmare bleed. A step to the left out of the way, the two dance the dance of the oldest tango there is. One mistake and your dance partner goes on, dances while they fall. The figure tries to disarm the ruffian, but struggles to out-muscle him, slicing his arm in the process, a groan let out.

The man gains the upper hand and throws a right hand, its connects at the bridge of the figures nose as blood is spat from their mouth. The man throws another and it lands, and another, the tide has seemingly turned. In his favour, he attempts a fourth strike but is parried. The figure holds onto the arms and lynch pin snaps the forearm in half a disgusting wet crack can be heard. He calls out in pain and falls on the floor screeching. The figure shakily walks over to the man and pick him up and lifts him against the bar. He throws his legs over his shoulders and hoists the man up, head hitting the rafters’ support beam, holding the man over the previous victim. He throws him down on the face of the previous target. A thick crack and explosion of mist sprays out under the man’s body. He groans winded and dazed.

The figure turns its head, panting, towards the The Sunkissed Kid, their leader. Still standing in the middle of the saloon on the table in disbelief at what he has just seen. He stares in shock, frozen in place unable to even suck in air. The figure steps forward as a ray of sunlight hits his face, the Sunkissed Kid’s eyes widen in horror.

It’s the sheriff.

The sheriff steps over the two bodies before him, blood staining the soles of his feet. He places his hand on his left hip and unholsters another pistol. But before he even pulled it out The Sunkissed Kid’s legs begin to finally work, as he darts for the door.

The sheriff, weapon at the ready follows his target, eyes solely locked on the boy sprinting for the door. He throws his arm across his torso aiming the gun back towards the man nailed to the tabled with his knife and shoots him right between the eyes, killing him instantly.

The saloon doors remain still as the boy crawls underneath, having lost his footing. He scrambles outside to the middle of the road trying to stand. The saloon doors blow off their hinges and explodes outwards on the ground just behind the boy’s frantic attempts to stand. The sheriff aims his pistol while walking and fires a round into the sole of the boy’s left foot. Splat. Straight through. Another round goes off and his remaining foot also finds a bullet. The boy’s screams echo across the town. Onlookers cover their mouths in shock at the display. What they see before them is nothing they have ever seen before in terms of violence.

The boy pulls himself up to this forearms as the sheriff lets off two quick shots to each of his shoulders. He hits the earth hard.

The Sheriff reaches the boy laying in the middle of the street. Tears streaming down his face, sobbing in miserable pain.

“Y-you f-f-fuckin’ piece of sh-shit, you god damn pyscho!.” The Sunkissed Kid howls as the sheriff stands over him, no words.

The sheriff raises his gun aiming at the kid’s head as the outlaw flinches at the sight of the of the barrel.

“P-please d-d-don’t kill me. I screwed up, I know… I-I-I didn’t mean to hurt no body.” He pleads. The sheriff clicks the hammer of his colt down.

“No no-n -no please I’m sorry please. I’m so sorry, you aren’t a coward, I-I can see that. I’m sorry about your old lady! Please just don’t kill me, I’m just a ki-” BANG.

The sound of the gunshot echos. The Sunkissed Kid lay dead on the ground. His brains all over the dirt.

The sheriff lowers the gun in a slump, dropping it on the ground.

He reaches to his chest and pulls his cross from his neck. Tossing it on the boys body.

The man walks off out of the town, leaving behind his sheriff’s badge on the boys body. As he leaves the town, he shuffles past a wanted poster. He reaches up and tears it down, taking it with him.

This man of the law is no more. Now he hunts. A man of vengeance.