An evil man appears in a western town.
| He walked through the doors of the tavern and created a small cloud of dust around him. A stranger to this town, and from his appearance, he was a threat. He stood about six foot three and wore long, dark, black hair that fell from his black wide brimmed hat. His hair moved as if being blown around by the wind, yet there was a dead calm in the tavern. He wore a black trench coat, black boots, and black pants with black chaps, but his shirt was blood red. His finger nails were longer than a man should have them, and although they looked like they had been painted black, that was their natural color. When he stood with his hands resting at his side, his black finger nails looked like evil dripping from his fingertips.
The two men that followed him smelled of death. Their faces, torn, dirty, and covered in blood, held no emotion, no thought. They were blank and mindless bodies, without a soul, they were his puppets as well as extensions of his own body. They were his eyes and ears, and his protectors too. They were dressed as most men were, in brown pants, brown jacket, and a shirt that at one time was white but now was a dark brown, mud color. There was no shortage of weapons or ammunition on these two abominations, and they were fast as well as deadly.
Everyone in the bar stopped talking, stopped drinking, and they were all staring at the newcomer and his followers.
“You pathetic people,” He spoke into the quiet with a deep grisly voice. “I have traveled a long way to be here, and I am not disappointed.”
He walked over to a table, the card game forgotten by those with cards in their hand and money on the table. He held his hand above the table, with his palm face down, and instantly the money on the table jumped into his hand.
The loss of their money activated survival instincts in the men and the three men stood to their feet, drawing their guns, and aimed at the man’s head.
“Put the money back freak show.” One man said. He pulled the hammer back with his thumb. “Or else.”
The man in black stared into his opponents eyes, he locked onto the man’s soul, and within seconds, he had infected him with his evil. If anyone were watching the cowboy’s eyes, they would have seen the blue and white in his eyes become black. His gun turned on his friend and he pulled the trigger, then he swung his gun to the other side and aimed at the other card player who had also switched his aim. The two card players faced each other, there was stillness in the air as it looked like a standoff, but what the other card player did not know was that the man he aimed his gun at had no choice. He could not back down if he wanted to save his life. The last card player saw the horror in the other man’s eyes, and it was the last thing he saw. He pulled the trigger, and another man fell to the ground lifeless.
The people in the bar were shocked, and paralyzed by what they witnessed. Only a couple of the workers, who saw everything from a distance, had escaped through the back door. The rest of them waited in suspense, none of them wanting to upset this most evil man, and hoped that he would just leave.
The noise of gunfire aroused the sheriff, who ran to the bar with his deputy. When he came through the swinging doors all eyes switched to him and the people in the bar began to have hope.
The sheriff saw two men lying on the ground in pools of their own blood. He saw another man holding a smoking gun and slightly crazed. The man holding the gun slowly started to raise his weapon to aim at the sheriff, but the sheriff was too fast. He drew his gun and shot the man between his eyes. Blood and brain matter shot out the back of his head and covered the bar behind him. Now there were three men dead on the ground.
“Bravo…” said the stranger, who suddenly stood right beside the sheriff “The hero has come to save the day.”
The sheriff, known to the people of the town as Justice, looked at the man in black and said, “Now who the hell are you?” Justice served this town for nearly 27 years. He was just as tough as he was fast. He had killed over 200 criminals in his career. Most of them came to his small town thinking that they could hide out there. Most of them were buried on the outside of town, in a cemetery that was larger than this town should have.
“I am your new master.” The stranger said very loudly. “I am a god to you and from now on you will do as I say.”
The stranger stomped on the wood floor with his boot that sent a shockwave through the building. The people, who were still sitting in their chairs, were knocked out of them, and those who were standing were knocked backwards and fell to the floor. Tables and chairs exploded into little pieces. Legs of chairs flew outward in all different directions--table tops split and sent flying through the air. Some of the damaged furniture even made it out the window.
The sheriff, being close to the stranger, took a massive hit lay unconscious on the ground. Most of the people lay on the ground moaning in pain. The tavern sounded like a torture chamber. The sounds of agony wailing from the mouths of those still conscious and alive.
The stranger held his hands stretched out before him with his palms out and his fingers pointing upwards. As he spoke his magic words, light began to shine from his hands, and his evil will sent a curse on all the people in the tavern. The curse showed on the people as markings around their necks, like a collar that was binding to the strangers magic.
* * *
The entire town had become a puppet show if wickedness. The heart of the people were chained to their new master, and they were hardly aware of their own sins. Like a pig wallowing in the mud, the pig does not know that it is dirty, but he enjoys it.
Throughout the town people did as they pleased. There were fights, unsanctified acts of lust, perversions of nature, greed, and hatred. Before long, the people of this town did not even look like they did before the stranger came. Their appearance changed, and their hearts became full of evil, and that evil worked its way outward for everyone to see. Woe to any visitors, or travelers, that would stop in this town, for they would be caught up in the storm.