The wind whipped through the town with sharp cracks, thrashing the creaky wooden doors and nearly tearing them off their hinges. Not a sound echoed through the dusty buildings as the sun reached it's peak in the sky. Horace was sitting at the bar, nursing a small bottle of beer in the corner. He was watching the townsfolk nervously hover by the windows, watching for something. "New to this town?" The bartender asked Horace with a smirk. She was cleaning a broken glass, eyeing the windows every now and then with wide eyes. Horace nodded quietly. "We're waiting for the beast to leave." "What's that?" Horace grumbled, still drinking a light hangover away. "We're not sure. All we know is to stay indoors during high noon. Even then it's a gamble on whether or not you'll-" The bartender's eyes suddenly shot to the closest window as something crashed into the building, sliding over the countertops and rolled in front of Horace. It was a horses head, torn off from its body. It's eyes stilled rolled in its skull, and Horace felt chills throughout his body when he realized it was HIS horse. The bartender grimaced. "It kills anything it sees." Horace looked away, spitting in the spittoon before standing up shakily. He grabbed his shotgun. A drunkard saw him approaching the door and tried to stop him, leaning sloppily on his shoulder. "H-hey, you can'd go out 'tere! Is dang'rous!" Horace glared at the drunkard and shoved him, pushing his way through the throng of people as they begged him to stop. As he made his way outside, the sky went dark like nighttime. Hot dust swirled around his old boots, pulling him towards the center of town. Coal-red clouds covered the sun and moved at lightning speed despite the wind being dead. Horace looked around in the darkness, struggling to see much of anything. The buildings that had once made up the town of Galeville had seemed to disappear, leaving him in an empty abyss of a dark desert. The sand seemed to burn at his heels, biting like snakes. Suddenly, an icy breath sank its cold fangs into Horace's skin, making him yelp in surprise. He whipped around, raising the gun with expert fingers, but found nothing. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Horace realized he could see his breath rising into the air. Sweat dripped down, dripping into the corners of his mouth. He swore under his breath, closing his eyes. He strained his ears, listening for anything approaching, and heard the distinct sound of a horse galloping. Horace dropped to one knee, twisting his body quickly and firing off a shot behind him, his eyes still shut tight. A faint howl rewarded his efforts, giving him a rush of adrenaline. Horace peeked an eye open to see a shimmer of a person hunched over, whining like an animal. He inspected its faint form, noting the translucent nature. "Just a common ghost." He muttered, firing off another shot, this time directly through the head. The ghost's body shuddered as the bullet went through, causing it to turn around and charge him with a final attempt at blood. The ghost wailed and screamed like a dying woman, filled with agony and pain. Though Horace was used to these types of sounds, it still sent painful shudders through his spine. He gritted his teeth and fired another shot through the heart, sending bits of ghost all across the land. He stood up, panting heavily as the clouds began to return to a normal white fluffy nature. The rest of the land was bathed in sunlight once more, and the town returned to its normal state. People ran out into the streets once they saw him, cheering happily. Horace nodded, approaching the bartender. "H-how in Gods name did you do that?" She asked, smitten by him. Horace shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant. "It's what I'm paid to do, ma'am. Does this town have any horses for sale?" Horace asked, feeling a drop of cold sweat down his neck as the bartender got closer to him. She grinned, resting a freezing hand on his gun. "Anything for you, sweetheart."