Menewsha Avatar Community - Devils Thrill (Contains cowboys and lots of blood!)

Prologue

Light flooded through the stained glass windows and cased its rays down into the pews below. A single man stood before the alter, staring intently at the cross above him. He did not move, he did not speak he simply stood there staring down the cross with the utmost concentration, his eyes locked on its golden bars. He was a handsome man, tall, dark haired, with piercing blue eyes that stood out ageist his pale skin. His concentration was not broken as a beautiful young girl walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her golden hair flayed over her rose dress, framing her breasts. The man did not move at her touch or even avert his eyes from the cross. The girl furrowed her brows slightly with anger and placed her other hand on his shoulder.
She smiled and said, “Oh Jonathan.” The man did not respond.
“Johnny?”
“…”
“Johnny are you listenin’ to me?”
“…”
“JOHNNY!” The man jumped so much at her voice that he nearly dropped the violin that rested at his side.
“Ah! Oh! Miss Annie! I’m so sorry…I didn’t hear you ma’am.” The girl laughed at his dumbfounded expression.
“Oh Johnny your sucha’ funny man,” she giggled.
“And what’s so funny ‘bout me Miss Annie?” he mused.
“You’re so serious when you’re a praying, so focused, ya can’t hear or see nothin’ other than that silly cross,” she teased.
The man laughed, “No Miss Annie you’re the funny one. The daughter of the Pastor and you think having a conversation with God is silly!?”
“Oh John,” she giggled and reached out to stroke his arm lovingly. Her fingers traced up his arm and brushed his cheek. The man smiled but did not return her affectionate stare.
“Was there something ya wanted Miss Annie?” Annie’s smile was wiped from her face and she looked down disappointed.
“…Yes…my daddy wants to see ya…” she said in a melancholy tone.
“Well then Miss Annie I best not be keeping him waiting”
Annie’s face perked back up, “Oh John he can wait! Stay with me for a while. Your always so busy!”
“I know I’m busy Miss Annie, this church needs a helping hand and I’m the only one who’s gonna give it to them,” He said, completely unaffected by Annie’s pleading expression.
“But John, ya just came to this town this weak! Ya don’t even know half the folks who come here! Hell, ya barely know me and I’ve been talking to ya since ya came!”
He shrugged, “It’s my duty Miss Ann, whether or not I know a soul that comes in on Sunday.”
“You’re a strange man John,” she pouted.
“That’s what they tell me,” he smiled playfully then took her hand and kissed it.
“Oh ho ho! John!” she giggled as he turned to leave, “Will ya play the violin for me John?”
He turned and sighed, “Miss Annie I can’t, your fathers waiting for me.”
“Oh please John! Just one quick song!”
“…Another time Miss Annie…” and with that he turned and left.

* * *

Jonathan sighed as he walked down the hallway, the look of concentration washing over his handsome face agene. He made his way to the church office without a sound. When he reached the door he didn’t bother knocking and simply opened it and peered inside at the dimly lit room within.
“Johnny ma’ boy!” a deep and jolly voice chimed from inside.
“Hello pastor Alder, you wanted to see me?”
“Yes my boy, take a seat, take a seat,” he said with a laugh, pulling a chair up to him.
“Thank you kindly sir but I think id rather stand.”
“Suit yourself son,” the priest chuckled and took the seat for himself, “So how ya been Johnny?”
“Just fine sir,”
“Well that’s good son, that’s good,” he chuckled, “Are you ready to play tomorrow?”
“Yes sir,” he nodded and pulled his violin out of its case and played a few notes and the instruments sweet music floated through the air, “I know that toon by heart.”
“You’ve got a gift there son,” the priest smiled and the man respectfully stopped playing.
“It’s easy when ya practice sir,” he returned the smile and placed his violin in his lap.
“No son it’s a God given gift and you…well you’re a gift to this very church! Ya just came along one day and this place has never been so cheerful. Ya teach the Sunday classes, you’re in the choir, ya play for our services and you’re always giving the church donations! You’re a God given gift Johnny and I’m thankful every day for havin’ ya with us,” the man smiled at his kind words, “And I’ll tell ya son, the ladies are even happier to have ya round.”
He laughed, “Yes sir I know.”
The priest smiled, “Well son, the reason I’m a callin’ ya down here is because yer playing durin’ the communion so ya wont get to partake in the sacrament.”
The man nodded.
“So I was thinkin’ that I could perform it now if ya so choose…so that ya wont be missing out on it later.
The man nodded and said, “Well that’s mighty kind of ya sir.”
The priest smiled and took out the bread and pored the wine for the communion, but before he began he turned and asked, “While you’re here, is there anything you’d like to confess to me John?”
The man smiled, “No, another time sir…”

* * *

The man sat next to the chapel entrance, all dressed in a long black gown for his performance. He had and hour to wait before the service would begin but there he sat, staring at the cross. Miss Annie crept up behind him and pressed her lips to his ear.
“Johnny…”she whispered.
He jumped and flipped around to face her, “Miss Annie ya really need to stop doing that!”
Annie giggled, “I can’t help it John, you’re so jumpy!”
“Well I can’t help that Miss Annie,” he said as he fiddled with his violin that rested on his lap.
“…Will ya play for me John?” she asked softly.
The man smiled and picked up his violin, “Id be happy to Miss Annie”
Annie’s eyes lit up as he began to play a quick and stringy song. It was fast and his bow bounced atop the strings as he played. A smile never left his face and Annie leaned closer to him as the song picked up speed. He played and played, much longer than Annie had expected. His body swayed passionately with the music as he played. Eventually the music softened and faded out into silence and the man laid the violin at his side agene.
“Oh John! That was beautiful! What is it called?” she gushed.
He smiled, “It’s called ‘The Devil’s Thrill’ Miss Annie.”
“What a strange name for such a beautiful song,”
“Yes, but its fitting,”
“…it really is a beautiful song....”
Annie was silent for a few seconds, “…will ya kiss me John?”
He smiled, “Yes Miss Annie, close your eyes and I’ll give ya a kiss.”
Annie closed her eyes and waited. She leaned in and shivered as cold brushed accost her lips.

* * *

The service was twenty minutes in, pastor Alder had preached, the choir had sung their usual hymns and it was time for the communion. The priest stood and held up the bred and nodded at the man. He stood and began to play a gentle and sweet song.
“On the last day Jesus took the bread and broke it…he said ‘this is my body broken for you,” the priest split the bread in two and handed it to the congregation that lined up in front of the alter.
When everyone had a piece he said, “Take and eat thee all of it.” The congregation obeyed. The priest picked up the glass of wine and held it in the air.
“Then he took the cup and said, ‘this is my blood shed for you.” Take and drink thee all of it.” The priest passed the cup to the entire congregation and after drinking the returned to their seats. As soon as the last person took his seat the man stopped playing. The congregation applauded. The man grinned at the audience, gave a bow and took his place in the front of the choir.
The choir began its next song as it always did after the sacrament, and as always the priest asked everyone sing with them. The congregation obeyed as they always did and soon the church was a flooded by the voices of every mother, child, and father. But John sang, though he was not a particularly good singer, with more gusto than any of the choir.
“Our father- which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…” The choir began. But that was as far as they went in the song. They had only just begun the first line before three women in the back began to gag and convulse. Every soul in the church gasped and screamed, some flew from their seats to come to their aid. The women spat blood and fell down on the flood twitching and moaning.
The man with the violin kept singing as loud and as joyfully as ever as the women behind him died slowly, their blood littering the pews. After a few moments of awe, the rest of the choir began to convulse and vomit blood all over the floor.
“Thy kingdom come…”
The congregation began to scream and flail about the pews, staining them with blood as they fell over each other.
“Thy will be done…”
A woman screamed at her dead and bloodied husband in her arms, her body beginning to shake in the same deadly way.
“On earth as it is in heaven…”
A man fell down the stairs as he tried to flee and another toppled over the balcony as his body began to flail about.
“Give us this day our daily bread…”
A child cried and moaned in his mother’s arms as he took his dying breath.
“And forgive us our debts ad we forgive our debtors…”
Silence began to fall over the church as its inhabitants began to die. Only the choking last gasps of a few to break the silence.
“And lead us not into temptation…”
Pastor Alder stood affront a sea of his fallen congregation. The church fell completely silent except for the man’s voice that still sung on in this carnage, a lone voice that still sung out as if blind to the horrors around him.
“And deliver us from evil,” The violinist sang brokenly before braking out into raging laughter. Pastor Alder stared at him, horrified.
“Y-you…you John?... D-did you do this?” the priest stammered.
The man’s laughter boomed through the halls, “Yes ya stupid bastard I did it! No fuck! Ya see anyone else still breathing in this joint?”
“But why…h-how…why am I still…”
“Because ya stupid old man did ya drink the wine? No I don’t think so!”
“…Poison…you poisoned them,” he said looking out at his fallen brothers and sisters, “You poisoned your own brothers in Christ...”
“HAHAHA Yea I poisoned them…but you shouldn’t feel left out good sir,” his eyes became dark and impish, “You’ll see em’ soon enough.”
With that he flipped out a pistol and pointed it at the pastor scull. Pastor Alder stared into the barrel for a long moment, unable to understand exactly what had just happened. Then he looked into those eyes. Those too happy, hungry eyes were boring into him, burning into his very should. Fear overtook the shock and his mind flooded with realization and panic for his own life.
Wild with fear the pastor dashed out the door running as fast as he could. He needed to get to his office. He needed to find his shot gun to kill the devil that had massacred his church. Alder could still hear the man behind him, laughing, not bothering to run after him as if he knew he was going to win. The very sound of his voice made the priests blood freeze in his veins. It only made him run faster.
At long last Alder reached the door. Panting and sweating, he flung the office door open wide and jumped inside as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. Adrenaline pumped though his veins as he slammed the door shut and pushed his back against the door with all the force he could muster. Alder coughed tiredly from running so hard. He was old now, his once dark hair graying and his body very much out of shape. Leaning his head back against the door he tried to catch his breath and calm himself down. Outside, he could hear the man’s heavy footsteps coming closer. Alder’s heart nearly stopped as he held his breath. He needed to get away from the door.
Slowly and as silently as he could, Alder shuffled his way over to his desk. Perhaps he could hide under it, or use it as cover until he could find a window to squeeze out of. But he never got to his desk. Because as he made his way over to it he finally had a chance to look around the room and was horror struck with what he saw inside.
His daughter laid in his chair, eyes and mouth hanging open, blood spilling out her mouth and staining her dress. The pastor’s stomach heaved as he vomited hard onto the floor. He couldn’t help but wail as he ran over to her in hysterics and cradled her bloodied corpse in his arms.
“ANNIE!” he screamed staring into her clouded and lifeless eyes. Those eyes had been so beautiful once. The pastor cried over his daughter, mourning her loudly as the tears spilled from his eyes and mixed with the dried blood that caked her once gorgeous face.
An amused chuckle came form behind him. He flipped around to see her killer looming above him, his eyes dark and soulless. He had forgotten to lock the door, the poor should.
“You monster!” the priest voice cracked, too grief stricken to portray the hatred that he felt in his heart, “To think we sheltered you…to think she cared for a’ beast like you!”
“Beast! Wow, haven’t heard that one in a while,” he chuckled, “that tart was asking for it…buggin’ me with those big puppy eyes.”
He raised his voice in imitation of Annie, “’OH! Will ya play a song for me John?’ ‘Will ya kiss me John?’ Hah! I gave her a kiss alright, kissed her with the barrel of my pistol. Shoved the thing right into her mouth I did.”
He smiled widely, “Ya should have seen her face just before I fired led into her brains.”
“MONSTOR!” he spat his face contorting into an ugly scowl. The man smiled happily and held the gun back up to his head. The priest’s eyes wend wide with fear. He couldn’t save his daughter but he could still save himself. Annie was gone. Dead. With God. But he didn’t have to die. Pastor Alder dashed past the man like a bat out of hell and ran though the church, jumping over his dead congregation and made his way to the door. The man didn’t bother to shoot him as he went by, or take a shot when he ran down the hall. He had many chances, but he never took them. It seemed that he was enjoying the experience a bit too much.
The priest skidded to a halt half way through the chapel. He had ran this far only to look back and see the man stood in front of the exit, a smug smile on his face. He knew he had won. Still the priest ran up to the alter and broke the bottle of wine, its tainted contents spilling all over the red carpet and mixing with the blood of his brothers and sisters. Shakily he held the broken bottle towards the man, trying to use it as some form of defense, but the priest knew that he was done for. A bullet could beat tainted glass any day.
The man walked casually up the isle and stopped a few feet in front of the priest.
“I would like to confess,” he said calmly.
“What...” the priest stammered.
“I told you that I would confess some other time…now seems like a good time.”
“Well you’ve got plenty to be fucking guilty about…,” he shook, too angry and frightened to care weather or not he cursed at this point, “Fine…confess your sins to me.”
The man smiled widely, “Father I have sinned,” he held the gun up to the priest’s head, “My name aint really Jonathan Parker.”
Pastor Alder was enraged, he stood, shaking with anger, “That’s what ya confess!? You slaughter the innocent and then ya confess to lying about your name!? You soulless, conscious less, monster! You are un-saveable! DAMNED! I curse you! I curse you! I CURSE Y-”
A gunshot rang through the halls and the priest fell limply to the floor. The man lowered his gun a smile plastered on his handsome face. His bright blue eyes glowed in the candlelight as he looked down at the fallen priest. With the smallest of chuckles, he ran his long fingers through his raven hair, rubbing away some of the saddle soap he had lathered it with and exposing some of the flaxen hair beneath.
Clapping rang through the church as another man walked through the doors. He was tall, skinny, with green eyes as bright as the shooters. He was younger than the other man but if not for their differences in age, they could have been twins.
“Very nice Josie, very nice,” the younger man said. He poked the priest’s corps with his boot, “Ya didn’t have to kill the old man though.”
“Toby where the hell have you been!? I had to go and do the job all by m’self.”
“I was making sure no one came round while ya finished.”
“Aint that just like you Toby, leavin’ me to do all the work while ya save your ass playin’ look out,”
“Oh stop whining, you know I can’t act like you can, I can barely speak to anyone but you I get so nervous,”
“Yea but you can shoota’ pistol that’s all ya really need to do”
“Yea I guess so…”
“…”
“…”
“Ya want to crucify the old man?”
Toby laughed, “Brother yer one sick puppy.”
“So is that a yes?” Josiah laughed.
“Fine but hurry up its startin’ to stink in here.”

Part 1
Bad beginnings

A dim light trickled through the dusty window, lighting the bar just enough to see inside the musty room. The air was thick and smoky with the smell of cigars and whiskey, and the piano played a lively song. A few drunken ranch hands played poker and bet their pay away, their drunken slurs echoed about the bar.
It was Saturday and the Shillings Tavern was buzzing with customers, as it usually was, as all the members of the town began to retire for the day. A few drunks screamed and danced to the piano but most just drank, laughed and played cards. It was very low key for this time of day. As soon as the sun started to go down the men started drinking. Usually by this time of day there had already been at least one fight. But there had been none so far, and I hoped it stayed that way.
Across from the piano was the bar. It’s once glistening varnished wood now scuffed and soaked with whiskey. A man stands, his back to me, filling up a few more drinks for the waitress to take to their owners. The bartender was a big brawny man with a straggly beard that began to show the slightest flecks of gray against its dark brown curls.
I let out a sigh. I was sitting at the bar, alone, on my usual bench sipping on a light drink. My plain brown dress fell over the bar all wrinkled and warn. The dress matched the rest of me, plain. My messy black hair pulled up into a tight bun, sleek bangs falling over my eyes. No jewels, no makeup or expensive clothes. I was certainly not an elegant woman, not rich, or poor, just plain old me. Even though I was plain as they got men in this town seemed to fawn over me and the women whispered nasty gossip. I ignored them all. I was not interested, and I didn’t have time for suitors or envious girls. And even though plenty wanted to woo or despise me none of them seemed to want to get to know me. The bartender was friendly enough but he was not exactly a companion for a young lady.
The bartender turned to me.
“Did ya hear Gracie?” he said sitting my drink down on the bar. I looked up sluggishly, my chin resting on my hand. I took a sip of my drink and sighed.
“Did I hear what Jack?” I said, not really caring about what he had to say. Jack liked to ramble on and on about things that didn’t really mater. It became very annoying hearing about how Mrs. Coftner fell and broke her leg on Tuesday. I spent a good chunk of my days sitting in this bar listen to the old man gossip. He didn’t have any family to meddle with at home, so he just talked to me and anyone else he could get a hold of for company. I liked giving him some peace of mind that someone still gave a damn about him, but sometimes id rather shoot myself then listen to him talk.
“Well about Nameless Joe strikin’ again,” I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Nameless Joe was a name that Jack had given to an outlaw that hadn’t been given a nick name around here. He was a frightening one too, he’d come out into a town for a while under a alias, for a week or two maybe. He would get to know and blend in with the people there and then slaughter the whole town in the most gruesome ways imaginable. No one even knew what he looked like or what his real name was either. He would change his name every time he moved into a different area and wear a disguise. Nameless Joe was a silly name to slap on to such a ruthless killer.
“What’d he do this time?”
“Went and slaughtered a church,”
“A church?” I gasped a little, “Who in the right mind would go and attack a church.”
“Joe would,”
“Stop callin’ him Joe,”
“Well why not?”
“Cuz it’s a … never mind keep talkin’,”
“Well, he went in and poisoned most of em, he went and hung the priest on the alter like they did in the crucifixion too”
I nodded, “Yea that sounds like ‘im,” I shook my head, “I don’t get those guys.”
“Guys?”
“Well yea, it can’t be just one feller. There aint no way one man could wipe out all those people by himself. Even if it was poison, he’d need some help,”
Jack shrugged and cleaned off a few dishes that where lying on the bar, “Maybe Gracie, maybe, but ill tell ya, knowin’ that that monster is out there gives me da chills.”
I nodded and took a sip of my drink. Crime wasn’t something we had never seen around this little town. People passing through had shoot out all the time and the saloon was the worst place to be when two people got in a fight. Jack and I where used to the normal criminals coming through, we saw it every other day. And it was a terrifying thing to be hiding under a barstool with pullets flying over you, but Nameless would make the devil himself cringe.
A group of men came strutting though the doors, dirty and smelling like hell. They looked like a pack of wolves, their faces dusty and tanned, hair sticking out of their hats every which way. Some of their clothes where ripped and worn, their faces cold. These men where trouble.
At the front of their pack walked a man, tall and handsome, he held himself like a gentlemen and almost glided across the wooden floor. His lips formed a thin line, mixed between a frown and an amused smirk. His hair, unlike his followers, lay flat and clean against his face. His flaxen locks fell over his eyes and almost reached down to his shoulders. He couldn’t have been a day over seventeen but his glowing blue eyes shown with intelligence that far surpassed his age.
The man glided to the bar and took a seat next to me, a deviant smile now plastered on his face. A few of the other men took seats at the bar. One of the men stared at me. When I looked over to him, I noticed he did not just stare, he glared at me. His eyes locked on me with malice burning in them. He was tall and black bangs cast shadows over his hateful eyes making him more intimidating than I could bear. I quickly looked away, focusing on the leader that sat beside me.
Now that he sat next to me I noticed that he carried an old violin at his side. I stared at the instrument for a long moment. Its edges all elegantly carved and varnished. It was old and worn, some of its sides splintered and cracked with age, but all the strings still held tight to the bridge. It wasn’t something I usually saw travelers with and I was fascinated with it. When I looked up, I nearly jumped as my eyes met the man who held the violin. He stared deeply into my eyes, into my soul. His eyes where not angry, or happy, or amused, but totally emotionless. His eyes where beautiful, enchanting even, but they where filled with nothingness and it was haunting. I shivered. Id never seen eyes so…soulless…
“Hey there stranger!” Jack’s hearty voice almost made me jump off the barstool. The man tore his eyes from mine and gave Jack a friendly smile. His face looked kind, but his eyes where still empty.
“Howdy sir,” the man said.
Jack perked up even more, “What can I do for ya?”
“Just a whiskey,”
Jack pored him a glass and sat it on the bar. The man grabbed it and took a sip.
“What cha’ got there?” Jack motioned to the violin that the man still held at his side. The man looked at his instrument and carefully set it on the bar for him to see.
“Well sir, this’d be a violin,”
Jack laughed, “Well I can see that sonny. I mean what cha’ doing with a violin in a bar?”
The man shrugged, “Well…to play it I suppose.”
“You lookin’ for money?”
“Nah, I don’t go round’ playin’ for money, but I’ll play for free if you’d like,” the man smiled.
“Go ahead,”
His smile widened, “Yes sir.”
The man stood up from the barstool and laid the violin beneath his chin. He glanced at me for a split second and gave me a smirk, and then he placed his bow on the violin and began to play. As soon as the first note was strung the ruckus in the barn softened to a low murmur. The song was fast, beautiful, and chilling. It made a shiver go up my spine.
The man’s face was concentrated on his instrument as his fingers danced across the strings, some emotion flooding into his empty eyes. The bow glided and jumped over the cords, adding choppy and stringy sound to the song that was electrifying to hear.
The man continued to play and the bar was dead quiet in his wake. Even the drunks that would usually hoot and holler at anyone who made a sound seemed to be focused on the violin’s song.
I could not bear to look at him play another second, I felt as though the song was hypnotizing me. I quickly turned my gaze from the bar, to see all the men that had come in with him where flocking out the door. Something was very wrong.
Soon the song faded, a few screamed with drunken cheers. I only stared…
“Damn…Iv never heard anything quite like that before,” Jack said almost speechless.
“Well I’m not surprised, wrote it m’self,” he said proudly, the smile never fading from his face, “I call it ‘The Devil’s Thrill.’”
“That’s a strange name for a song”
“Yea but it fits,” The man took another gulp of his whiskey, leaving a few drops of the drink inside.
“Right,” Jack picked up the drink.
“I’m not done drinkin’ that,” the man smiled.
“Don’t worry I’m just gonna fill it back up for ya, no charge,” he turned to pore more whiskey into his cup. Before he could even get a drop in, the man grabbed onto Jacks arm like a viper.
“I said, I aint done drinkin’ that,” the man’s eyes where dark. Jack’s arm shook under his grip.
“Jesus let go of ma arm!” Jack yelled.
The man smiled and squeezed harder, “Put the drink down.”
Just then Jack’s arm made a cracking sound and the glass fell to the floor and shattered. Its pieces scattered across the floor and a small pool of whiskey splashed to the ground. Jack took no notice of it and squirmed to free his arm. The man’s eyes locked on to the shattered glass on the floor a light smile touching his lips.
“Awww….now look what cha’ did” the man pouted comically then pulled out a thin metal spike from his britches. He laid Jack’s shaking arm down on the table and placed the point of the spike on top of his wrist. The man raised the spike up and jammed it back down into Jack’s wrist. Blood spurted from his arm and dotted the man’s handsome face crimson. Jack screamed and wailed as the man took out a hammer and started to pound the nail deeper into his arm. As soon as Jack’s wrist was nailed down to the bar the man took out another spike and hammered them through the joints of his fingers.
Every soul in the bar was staring at the man with awe. People where screaming for him to keep at it, others for him to stop and some of them where screaming of disgust. I was silent as the grave. I couldn’t move, Jack was screaming, begging for me to help…but all I could do was stare, stare at the man beside me who’s eyes shone with mad pleasure.
Jack laid his head back and sobbed, conceding to the man who loomed above him. The man stopped and looked down at his handiwork. A nail stuck out of every joint on both of Jacks hands, pinning him down to the bar.
Blood soaked the man’s hands. He turned away from Jack, satisfied with his work and stared into the crowded bar before him. His eyes where hungry. The man then turned to face a man sitting on the piano.
“Can you play?” he asked. The piano man was speechless with fear.
“Well?” the man’s eyes mocked the boy.
The piano man nodded nervously.
“Then what cha’ waiting for? Go ahead and play,” he smiled kindly but his eyes still glowed with blood lust.
The piano man, shaking like a leaf, began to play. The man stood and looked about the bar. He took a deep breath and smiled with a peaceful look on his face, then pulled out a pistol and shot a man half way across the bar. The man fell limply to the floor. He was dead before he hit the ground.
People around him screamed and cried. One of the men who had been drinking with him pulled his gun out and aimed at the man who had shot his friend.
“You son of a-” a shot rang through the air and the man fell to the floor beside his pal.
Men reached for their guns to strike back but where shot before they could cock them. The bar was in a total panic, everyone flocked for the door. He took the out one by one before they could even open it. Women screamed and men cursed him as they tried to fight back.
Within minutes, bodies littered the floor their blood spilling over the floorboards. And there I sat, glued to my chair, unmoving, unthinking. I could not even lift myself from the chair to even try to help them. My mind was blank, but then I noticed something, every time the man took a shot the piano man struck a key. Even his steps flowed with the sound as if he was dancing. Oh God! Was he…killing to the sound of the music?
Soon the gunfire stopped and nothing but the piano man made a sound. Blood dripped from the man’s hands that hung at his sides, the rest of him was unblemished. There were oceans of blood around him and yet he didn’t have so much as a drop on him. The man stood motionless for a moment.
The piano man, Jack and I where the only ones still alive, the air was thick with fear as we waited for what was to come next. The man let out a sigh and raised his gun to the piano man’s head. Tears streamed down the man’s face and he shook harder as he heard the gun cock across the room. One last gun shot rang through the room and the piano man fell limp onto his instrument, making a terrible sound as he hit it.
The man chuckled and tried to imitate the sound the piano man’s corps made as he hit the keys. He took another deep breath then turned to face me and scanned me from top to bottom
“Well you’re a pretty one miss,” he stroked my face.
I shook, “But that don’t mater to you.”
His smile widened, “But that don’t mater to me.”
“WHY AINT NO ONE COMEING TO SAVE US!?” Jack suddenly screamed from behind. Jack was crying, this was the first time id ever seen him cry. Though, with the kind of pain he’s in, I don’t blame him.
The man gave a too friendly smile, “Well that’d probably be because their dead,” his eyes grew wide and insane, “You’re the only ones left breathin’ in this whole town.”
Jack shuddered and squirmed, pulling at his hands. The nails didn’t budge but his hand began to bleed more violently as he pulled. For a second I actually thought that he might rip his hands off, but he just flailed and sobbed.
“You’re a sorry excuse for a man,” He moved forward until he was just and inch away from Jacks face, “Ya see I could’ve done somethin’ a hell of a lot worse to ya. But you’re sobbin’ like a baby.”
Jack whimpered, “Just kill me…”
“Your not worth waisin’ lead on,” he ran his fingers across the bar, soaking his fingers with blood, then he licked it off. Jack’s face went green. The man smiled and turned back to me.
“Well miss, looks like you’ll be the last one for today. I like to make ma’ last kill special,” He moved his face closer to mine until he was almost touching me, “So how would ya like me to do it? Should I cut your guts out? Or should I just nail ya to the ceiling?”
My mind runs a mile a minute. He’s going to kill me! He’s going to kill me! I don’t want to die! I’m only 16! I can’t go like this! I have to get Jack and run! No he’ll catch me! OH GOD IM GONNA DIE! Nameless Joe is going to kill me! I need to talk him out of it… think Gracie …think…
“I think id rather not,” I finally said, “Id rather ya let me live.”
He snorted, “Fraid’ that’s not an option miss…uh…miss…”
“Grace,”
“Right, Miss Grace I’ve given you a choice, ya ought to pick one,”
“And I’ve given you an answer and you better damn well listen to it,” I said boldly.
The man smile tightened, but not in anger. It almost looked like he was trying not to laugh, “Well little missy your not in the best position to be demanding me to listen to ya. I could shoot ya right now and it wouldn’t mater none if ya wanted it or not.”
“Well you won’t,”
“And why not?”
“Because it’d be borin’ just to kill me,”
The man looked impressed, “And it’d be annoying to let ya live.”
“What if I said I could make it worth your while?”
“That depends…what do you have in mind?”
“Well…uh…Ill help ya,”
“Help me?”
“Well yea, you probably wouldn’t mind havin’ a hand to help ya out,”
“Help me with what?”
“Well …with this I guess,” I pointed to the fallen bodies flayed about the floor.
He let out a loud booming laugh and pointed at the corpses littering the floor, “Do ya honestly think I need help with this? Not a soul helped me kill all these folks! Why would I need your help now?”
“Well I’m sure there’s something you need help with,”
“No, really there’s nothing,”
“No cooking you need help with,”
“I can cook fine for m’slef,”
“Cleaning,”
“I don’t have much that actually needs to be cleaned,”
“Tendin’ the horses?”
“I’ve only got one horse and I can take care of him just fine,”
I was at a loss for words. What else could I offer him? I could give him everything I had, but he didn’t look interested in money. Well I gave it a good try, at least I’m not going out with ought a fight.
I looked up at the man shakily. His eyes where thoughtful and concentrated. What’s he waiting for?
“How about a deal Miss Grace?” the man said. I was dumbstruck. Is he actually going to let me live?
“Ya see maybe I do want a little help with ma’ ‘work,’” he looked down at the bodies and smiled, “Maybe id like someone to help me pull of the charade.”
“O-ok…” I said. He moved closer to me and smiled.
“Does the blood bother you Miss Grace?”
“No,”
“Does the smell of rotting flesh make your skin crawl?”
“No,”
“Would you take the lives of your friends and leave em’ for the buzzards?”
“…” I wasn’t sure if I could do something so cold. I thought for a long moment then replied, “Yes.”
He mans smile widened and he looked pleased, “Lastly Miss Grace…would you shoot me if you got the chance?”
“….”
I knew the real answer. I would kill him if I could. I feared him, and this deal meant little about whether he would really let me live in the long run. It would be easy just to get rid of him, and run off. I stood in silence afraid to answer. The man looked demanding, he cocked his gun. Alright, I need to say something, whether he likes it or not I’ll give him the truth.
“Depends sir, but right now id gladly take your life,”
The man let out a booming laugh and put his pistol back in its holster, “Missy you’ve got guts.”
I smiled, not knowing if that was really a good or bad thing.
“Well Miss Gracie, congratulations you’re now my apprentice,” he smiled darkly. Apprentice? When did he say anything about that? If I’m his apprentice then I need to kill people, ill be a criminal, ill go to jail, or worse…be hanged.
“I-I’m not sure I want to…”
“It’s not an option missy. Ya said you wanted to live so I’m letting you live. So stop whining before I change ma’ mind,” he said. And that was the end of that argument. I bowed my head. He let out another laugh and made his way to the door. I followed him closely, not wanting to be left alone with the carcasses.
I was almost to the door when I heard Jack wail, “Don’t leave me!”
I jumped at his pathetic cries.
“Don’t leave me Gracie! Please! I’m beggin’ ya!”
I looked from Jack to the man, and back agene. There was no saving Jack. Even if I could pry his hands off the bar the man would only shoot him or hurt him even more. And I didn’t want that… but I couldn’t just leave him. It would be cruel to let him live in such pain. I picked up a pistol that lay on the ground
Before I could even raise it to Jack’s head the man had his own pistol held against my neck.
“Don’t push your luck princess,”
“But I was just going to…”
He cut me off, “Kill him? No missy I don’t think you will. Ya see I like to keep em’ alive sometimes.”
“But he’ll starve if he can’t get his hands off!”
“That’s kind of the point,”
“That’s horrible! I can’t just leave him!”
“Oh yes you can. Now, I said I want him alive and alives how he’s gonna stay. Unless you want to have lead shot into yer brains,”
“But you said you’d let me live!”
He laughed, “Ya see I spared you for now, but I’ve got no problem takin’ your life if you disobey me.”
I shivered, “You wouldn’t…”
“I would. Now you’d best put that gun down before you go and do somethin’ you’ll regret.”
I placed the gun down on the table.
He smiled widely, “That’s a good little pet.”
That’s when I realized that that was exactly what I was…His pet…