Post by Buffalofred on Sept 14, 2003 22:20:56 GMT -5
The sun beat down on the stranger as he stood on the edge of the great plain…surveying his map given to him long ago. A retired printer from back east that had been commissioned by the government to charter the west & in doing so had become a famous map maker breaking new frontiers for all that would follow his paths. His eyes drifted over the great plain….once lush with life…with a sea of bison melting into the horizon , now a barred wasteland…a desert wind picking up the red dust of curling it like a mocking smirk across the haze of cracked earth. His eyes fixing on the gorges that lay beyond…the old abandoned mining camp of Liltown lying within them. There he find his quarry…Boneditto.A curse of man, a butcher , a outlaw of no conscience…a name parents used to scare their children into bed. His eyes darked with the memory , his thoughts drifting back to a fateful duel years ago….where his band of regulators had been slaughtered and he had lay with them , left for dead on the blood soaked ground.
The Indian scout , he who sees like eagle …Blackthorn…the English gentleman who sought adventure in the chaos of the frontiers…the Outcast …a man with no name…a deserter from the union army who silently rode with them , his only voice the echo of his peacemaker….all slaughtered brutally by the demon…Boneditto.The strangers wounds had healed but his life was forfeit until vengeance had been found….the last year of his life spent chasing a ghost , endless towns & trails crossed…hearing whispers of him…hushed tones in bars as if people spoke of the devil himself & now the time of reckoning was upon him….Bonditto was in his grasp.
The sun sank low covering the gorge in it’s orange hue … an eerie silence settling into the narrow pass that led in the abandoned mining camp , punctuated only by the fall of the hooves from his spent horse. The chasm opening up before him , there lay Liltown….a dull light glowing from a hut. Dismounting he stood in the clearing facing the hut….tracing the movement from inside…his head tilted…the sunset washing over the shoulders of his long coat. The Mexican walked out through the door facing him.” Eeeeh meeesta…u lost or something “ he sneered. The stranger lifted his head….his hand drawing back his coat over his holster. Their eyes meeting ,the gorge closing in around their stare..Boneditto’s eyes widening ….” I know u!!…u’re dead…I killed u “ he said as stepped back…his hand falling to his holster “ this time I keeeel u goooood “. Time stopped as their hands sunk to the butts of their pistols , a split second frozen in space as they raised their guns….the gorge thundering with a single shot.
The stranger stood over Boneditto…..his eyes locked on his nemesis dying gaze as the curse of the west’s face relaxed his features already preoccupied with his new found knowledge. The stranger stood over him as the first drops of rain stated to fall…storm clouds forming over head….out on the great plain a lone bison snorted its breath in its greeting of the downpour. The drought had been broken…& the Buffalo had returned to the lands of Liltown.
The Indian scout , he who sees like eagle …Blackthorn…the English gentleman who sought adventure in the chaos of the frontiers…the Outcast …a man with no name…a deserter from the union army who silently rode with them , his only voice the echo of his peacemaker….all slaughtered brutally by the demon…Boneditto.The strangers wounds had healed but his life was forfeit until vengeance had been found….the last year of his life spent chasing a ghost , endless towns & trails crossed…hearing whispers of him…hushed tones in bars as if people spoke of the devil himself & now the time of reckoning was upon him….Bonditto was in his grasp.
The sun sank low covering the gorge in it’s orange hue … an eerie silence settling into the narrow pass that led in the abandoned mining camp , punctuated only by the fall of the hooves from his spent horse. The chasm opening up before him , there lay Liltown….a dull light glowing from a hut. Dismounting he stood in the clearing facing the hut….tracing the movement from inside…his head tilted…the sunset washing over the shoulders of his long coat. The Mexican walked out through the door facing him.” Eeeeh meeesta…u lost or something “ he sneered. The stranger lifted his head….his hand drawing back his coat over his holster. Their eyes meeting ,the gorge closing in around their stare..Boneditto’s eyes widening ….” I know u!!…u’re dead…I killed u “ he said as stepped back…his hand falling to his holster “ this time I keeeel u goooood “. Time stopped as their hands sunk to the butts of their pistols , a split second frozen in space as they raised their guns….the gorge thundering with a single shot.
The stranger stood over Boneditto…..his eyes locked on his nemesis dying gaze as the curse of the west’s face relaxed his features already preoccupied with his new found knowledge. The stranger stood over him as the first drops of rain stated to fall…storm clouds forming over head….out on the great plain a lone bison snorted its breath in its greeting of the downpour. The drought had been broken…& the Buffalo had returned to the lands of Liltown.