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unsuspecting-writer · 5 years

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Halos & Bone

Inspired by dialogue number 14 of this post

Word count: 1,239

Warnings: Gore, implied NSFW content, 16+ recommended

Author’s Note: I do apologize in advance if there is any typos, and would you be a dear and tell me if you find any? And I also apologize if it is trash, as this is my first fanfiction. Hope you enjoy!

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This was it.

This was the end.

The air was sticky, the high humidity making the heat almost unbearable. The slight breeze was welcoming to the exposed flesh of your arms, the cool fingers brushing against your heated skin and quivering form, the wind whispering indecipherable words to your ears. Dry dirt and grit dug into your palms with a fierce bite as you forced yourself backwards, crawling frantically until your bruised back hit the wall, face flushed from tears and your left eye swollen shut. Your one good eye was glued to the gun pointed point-blank at your head, the barrel glinting dangerously in the light of the dive bar’s back window. An arrogant smirk was plastered onto the filthy low-life’s face, revealing two nasty rows of yellow, crooked teeth as he watched you stare at him with a wide, terrified eye.

That sick bastard is enjoying this! You realized with utter disgust and anger, sparking a small flame, slowly eating away at the fear that had rendered you immobile just moments ago.

“W-what do you want from me?” You tried to growl, but it ended coming out as a tentative squeak, betraying the rage that you held inside your chest.

“Oh, I think ya know exactly what I want,” the sad excuse of a man darkly chuckled, the smell of liquor overpowering on his breath as he licked his lips, eyes glazed over and slowly trailing up and down your body hungrily. You felt your blood run cold as he inched closer, the small ember of anger being overrun by freezing horror as you tried to scramble to your feet, only to be shoved back into the wall, the man’s powerful forearm crushing your throat, a gloved hand to cover your mouth, and the massive bulk of his body pinning you to the ground, trapping you.

With the low-life’s face only inches away from yours, he sneered angrily, his breath so strong it made you gag and want to vomit, “And where the hell do ya think y’er goin’? I ain’t even had my fun yet.”

“And ya won’t get it, neither.”

A loud gunshot then sounded, making your ears ring from the bang and you watched in shock as the side of your attacker’s head exploded, making blood, skull fragments, and brain matter scatter out onto the dust, wetting the cursed ground of the West with more blood of the damned. The man’s body was knocked off of you from the sheer force of the blast, allowing you to greedily breathe in some sweet oxygen into your battered lungs. Harsh coughs then raked through your body, pain like white hot lightning flashing through your chest, making you keel over and wrap your arms around your stomach in the fetal position.

As you waited for the pain to subside, you heard the jangle of spurs and noticed dusty, scuffed cowboy boots walking in your direction, stopping next to your head. You mustered the energy to look up at him when he kneeled beside you, observing your savior with unfiltered wonder as you took in his features. Honey brown eyes stared down at you like a hawk, brown hair peaking out from under his tan cowboy hat, stubble tastefully accenting his angular jaw and sun-kissed skin. A red serape was wrapped around his broad shoulders and draped over his left metal prosthetic arm, barely visible in the dim light. A lit cigar hung limply from his lips, illuminating his face as he seemed to inspect you, his eyes lazily analyzing your body, eyes lingering on the scrapes and the bruises appearing on your arms, before coming to rest on your face.

Usually you’d be able to meet and keep anyone’s gaze, but when you met this stranger’s eyes, you couldn’t help but blush and turn away bashfully. You couldn’t tell whether it was because you found this man attractive or the fact that he had just probably saved your life. Maybe it was both.

He grunted as he offered his gloved hand to you, his deep, southern drawl capturing your attention, “Can ya stand, darlin’?”

You nodded slowly, not sure if you could respond without blubbering like a fool. Gently taking his hand, he steadily pulled you to your feet, the dust clinging to your tattered clothes and bruised skin. After the stranger made sure that you were balanced, he turned towards the dead body, staring at it with such hatred that you thought that if he stared at it any harder, the body would burst into flames. Your savior took the cigar out of his mouth and stepped on it, mumbling something under his breath far too low for you to hear as he stomped towards the body. Grabbing the back of the low-life’s shirt collar, he dragged the body out from behind the dive bar, leaving drag marks and blood in his wake.

Far too intrigued by this strange man, you followed him, using the walls as support. It took a minute or two, but eventually you were able to find him strapping the body to the back of a huge, jet black stallion, tied to a post in front of the bar. He was checking the straps as you appeared from the shadows, making him cast a glance in your direction.

“Thank you so much, sir,” you croaked, voice scratchy and dry, but filled with pure awe. “What do I owe you?”

“Jus’ stay outta back alleys and dive bars, darlin’. I won’t be there ta save ya a second time,” he warned, eyes holding a strange glint that you didn’t recognize, but you were so filled with relief and gratitude that you’d live another day that it didn’t bother you.

“You’re an angel,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, but the strange man somehow seemed to hear you as he spat on the ground in rage.

He climbed onto his steed with the ease of an experienced rider, eyes like molten daggers as he snarled lowly at you, venom dripping from his words “Jus’ ‘cause I fight on the angel’s side, don’t go thinkin’ me as one of ‘em.”

Just as he finished speaking, the full moon peaked out from behind the black storm clouds, shining down on the stranger, making you stumble backwards and almost scream in absolute terror. The handsome cowboy that you had met was no longer in front of you. In his place, was a creature with ghastly pale skin and pure white hair. His cheerful red serape was now a tattered, deep purple with a skull design that you don’t remember being there before. The cowboy hat was now black, and he now wore a black bandanna that covered the bottom half of his face, a skull mouth design on it as well. Hell, even his horse was now deathly pale, and possibly even slightly opaque? But the most dramatic change was his eyes. They were no longer the warm, honey brown that you were blown away by, but now glowed an unnatural neon green. They looked through you, staring directly into the deepest, darkest parts of your soul. You never felt so violated.

As the moon was driven back into the cloud cover, the creature masquerading as a man kicked his mount and screamed a blood-curdling, ghostly yee-haw before taking off into the stormy night, the drag marks and the blood from the corpse being the only indicator that he was ever there.

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overdrivels · 6 years

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