A story of revenge
|Chester looked out over the mountain valley. It was beautiful and, best of all, nearly all of it belonged to him.
He was one of those people whose wealth was so vast, no one thought to question its source. If they did, Chester always gave the vague, “shrewd investments” answer. It satisfied and so, was enough.
Chester dismounted his horse and walked over to a small pile of stones, now mostly overgrown by sage.
Kneeling down he pulled out a flask of whisky and took a drag.
To the stones he said, “How are you doing today Sammy?”
No answer: a good thing considering Sammy’s last words as he lay dying from a bullet in his back.
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
Chester understood the implied threat.
That was years ago and still no ghosts.
As he put his foot in the stirrup to mount his horse, Chester couldn’t help but look around to make sure there was no demon ready to pounce.
Eventually, he arrived at the true source of his wealth, a hidden mine with a thick vein of gold. He and Sammy had discovered it all those long years ago.
As he started down the ladder, a strong wind woke up the surrounding trees. The horse whinnied in fear and Chester felt a sense of foreboding.
A rung broke and he fell the remaining twenty feet. The impact breaking of both his legs.
He was trapped and no one knew he was there. This would be a slow, painful end.
That’s when he realized he wasn’t alone.
“Who’s there!” he shouted at the darkness.
The cold wrap itself around him. It flowed across his shoulders and then touched his ear.
It was only a whisper, but he recognized Sammy’s voice.
And so, the long night began.
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