We have a special guest writer Kyle Chiu! Enjoy the story.
Here's Part One of the story.
Silence. At least, that’s how it used to be before everyone started to rush out here into this boomtown. Now? Everyone settles in Dodge City, Kansas, and silence no longer became the description of the town. In fact, the environment was anything but silent. The city had become a growing criminal hub, with the criminals outnumbering the county sheriff by thirty to one, with that number growing daily. And there was only one sheriff.
One robber stowed away onto a train due to this city. The man’s name had long since died out, and those who knew it were either dead or smart enough to keep their mouths shut tight. This was the leader of the infamous group, the Six-Shot Stranglers. It was said that they’d do anything so long as there was money at the end. He wore a torn and ragged cowboy hat, a dusty plaid flannel shirt, and ripped blue jeans. To go along with this, he walked with a limp from an old bullet wound and wore spurred boots, the right one with a holster containing a classic Colt Single Action Army, specially modified for a clean, silent kill. Another revolver, carrying blanks, was concealed in his thick leather belt.
The next thing everyone knew, there were now two people in the front control room, one of them being armed and holding a cocked revolver to the other person’s head, all six bullets ready to fire, and the hammer pulled back all the way.
“Stop the train.”
“Okay! Jeez, you just needed to-”
If you were to sit in the front cabin, all you would hear was a muffled cry, then a snap, then a thump, then something that resembled a slice. More slices. Then a long slice and a scream. A puddle of blood would soon be visible underneath the door. The criminal walked out of the control room with blood all over his hands and shirt. He quickly drew his blank gun, spinning it on his index, and unloaded three blanks into the ceiling.
“Everyone! DOWN! And gimme all your gold, money, and jewelry!”
While this was going on, three other horsemen rode up to the other train cars and proceeded with the robbery process. One passenger started to stand up and draw two revolvers, but he quickly sat back down with a hole in his head measuring half an inch in diameter with a bullet occupying the cavity. Splat. Blood sprayed to other passengers and misted in the air. No one heard any shot.
Meanwhile, the only sheriff came, galloping across town on the fastest horse he could find. He slid off the horse before it came to a complete halt, his hand coming down to his Remington Model 1858. This was the preferred weapon of choice for him because this gun was able to have the cylinder detach from the frame, making reloading much faster. He was dressed with a clean black cowboy hat, a white shirt, black jeans and boots, along with a black vest. The officer also had a leather belt with a holster containing the remarkable pistol with extra cylinders, some with “special ammunition”. And who could forget that six-pointed star on that vest? However, he did not know his own name, but there were a few hints about it.
The leader of the group collected the two guns dropped by the corpse, which was now becoming a blood dispenser. He collected the ammunition and then threw the stained revolvers off of the train and into the river below.
“Anyone else wanna try and... ‘negotiate?’” he said with a chuckle.
“Me,” replied the sheriff, appearing out of nowhere and (quite impossibly) holding two corpses with a single hand, the other hand on his gun. Blood was rushing out in an enormous stream right below the Bowie knife sticking out of the chest of one of the victims, while the other was suffering from his head twisted nearly 180 degrees from its normal position, along with a small explosion of blood every now and then coming from a gigantic slit in his throat.
“Trying to scare me, eh?” the leader spat.
“Just doin’ my business, nothing’ much,” said the marshal, tossing the bloodied bodies into the water below.
“I hope you’re not... chicken... or anything,” laughed the leader, calmly collecting the treasured items from the passengers and placing them gently into a sack.
In one moment the sheriff was standing in a position that almost resembled someone who had too much to drink, then in another moment a bullet had come out of his gun and into the bottom of the burlap sack, creating a hole big enough for the small items to fall out.
“Oh, so... I take it you wanna fight this one out,” yelled the remaining robber sarcastically, dropping the sack and reaching for his gun.
But in around a single decisecond, the gun was knocked out of his hand by another bullet, belonging to the officer’s gun again. In fact, the force of the gun was so strong that the target’s fingers were badly bloodied, some of the blood was spurting into his eye, and the fingers nearly dislocated.
“AAAAAHHHHHHHH!” cried the nameless gang leader, holding his fingers and eye, bending forward. The sheriff ran forward, grabbed the criminal’s shoulders, forced them down, then kneed his face. The bandit fell backward, a waterfall of red and purple coming from his nose and arching in the air as he fell.
“Heh. I bet you think you’re tough,” croaked the crook after he landed with a loud thud on the ground, coughing up blood as he talked. The western cop came and firmly planted his boot on his enemy’s chest. The revolver came out of the holster nice and quick, aimed at the thief, the hammer fully down.
“Any last words, buddy?”
“Go. To. He-” The bandit’s wheezing was interrupted by the rotation and slide of the officer’s boot, exposing the spurs toward the victim. Then a thrust of the boot. Then there was the sound of ripping and slicing. Sort of like, cutting an apple.
“AAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGHHHH...” blood spurted from the body much like a fountain in front of a fancy hotel.
“Oops,” nonchalantly and sarcastically mocked the sheriff, “I must have slipped. That’s what you get,” he casually continued as he shook the ripped clothing and intestines off his boot, “for messin’ with the citizens in this town.”
The law enforcement agent slowly walked away as citizens stared at him, eyes wide and jaws dropped.
