[nsw-fic] Unnamed Western

[Carsew]

Prologue

 

The cold, black night engulfed the man riding through the great plain. The horse was galloping, and by the mans constant spurring, it was obvious that he was running from someone. The man was dressed in a red shirt, brown vest, and a black frock coat, knee length, and pants. His boots were also black, but was a shade of brown because of the dust that flew up as he rode. The frock coat was flapping behind him because of the wind, and revealed a gun in its holster on his right leg. Every ten seconds he looked behind him, trying to find the man who was chasing him. His facial structure was not attractive at all, and his hair, even though he looked like he was only thirty, was already balding. As he didn't see whoever was chasing him, he started to relax a bit more, and he didn't bother to look down on the ground in search of rocks or holes. That was a mistake. His horse stepped into a hole, breaking one front leg and making the man fall off and roll a few meters away.

 

He slowly got up, and found that he had not been hurt badly, just a few scratches and bruises. He sighed as he walked over to the horse, which was in severe pain. He knew he would have to kill it, and without further pondering he drew his six-bullet Colt revolver and shot the horse in the head. All the horses muscles froze before falling down again, dead. The man put the gun back in its holster and looked back to where he came from, and what he saw terrified him. A man was riding a horse rapidly towards him. He knew that he could not run, and he drew his gun, knowing it was his only rescue. The other man stopped about twenty meters away from him, and jumped down from his horse. He walked slowly towards the balding man. The newcomer was dressed in a tan poncho, black pants and boots, and a straight brimmed hat on his head. His face was, even though they were both in their thirties, the opposite of the balding man, it was attractive, no scars, and a small stubble. His dark blue, almost black, eyes showed no emotion, not even hatred. He was here on work.

 

The balding man was now sweating heavily, and walked backwards as the other man came closer. He fumbled with his gun, and they both stopped, just a few meters away from each other. The newcomer flipped the front of his poncho over the shoulder, and a gray shirt and black vest was revealed underneath. Also revealed was two holsters, in each a black, gold ornamented, Colt Peacemaker was holstered. The balding man tried to fire his gun, but the other one saw his finger twitching, and in the blink of an eye, he had drawn his right pistol and fired a shot at the mans revolver, making the gun fly out of his hand and land a few feet away. The balding man started trembling and walked backwards even faster, but soon tripping on a rock and falling down on his back. He pulled himself backwards, while the other man followed him.

 

“Please don't kill me!” the balding man shouted, stopping and holding his hands in a praying gesture. “I don't wanna die!” The other man stopped too, aiming his gun at the mans head.

 

“Then you will come willingly?” he asked, only coolness in his voice. The man started shaking, not knowing what to choose between death or prison. After a few seconds, he decided and rolled away, trying to trip the other man. The other one stood steady and aimed his gun at the balding one's head. He shot a bullet, flying perfectly into the running mans skull, making blood flow out. The balding man fell into the grass, and the other one spun his pistol around and then put it back in its holster.

 

 

He walked over to the body and grabbed the dead arm, dragging the body over to the horse. The man put the body on the back of the horse and, first making sure that the body was fastened, climbed onto the saddle. Then he rode towards the town again. His job here was done.

[machievelli]

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