He wasn’t a very good gunslinger So no one was shocked His career, quite, early, Met up with maggots

The moon was full and bright tonight as he rode on the path towards town. He had been away for nearly 3 months tracking the criminal draped across the back of his horse. Some referred to him as a cowboy, a gunslinger, bounty hunter. He didn’t care about any of that. All he knew was the sheriff would pay him a nice bit of coin for the dead man behind him.

The sherif had originally offered him more money to bring the man back alive to stand trial. The gunslinger was silent as he mounted his horse, about to set off on his bounty. Before he rode off, the gunslinger looked the sheriff square in the eye and replied, “Just so I don’t leave you wondering....it’ll be dead.” And he was gone leaving the kicked up dust and last word with the sherif.

He was thankful for this so called profession. He was good at it. Damn good.

The night brought a bit of a chill to the air as he brought his duster closer to himself for some warmth. As he drew closer and closer to town he felt a sense of uneasiness. He was thankful for the peaceful night during the last legs of this journey but now as he rode closer to town the silence was deafening. The town was never the busiest type Of place. One jail. One saloon. Maybe a population of maybe 150 men, women, and children. A “One Horse” type of town if he ever saw one. But as he rode his stead into the outskirts of town, not a single man or women was In sight. Not even a random drunk stumbling out the saloon after too much whiskey.

The gunslinger, his bounty, and horse now were square in the center of town. Silence. He demounted from his horse and walked towards saloon. If anyone would be around he figured it would be there. Even at the current hour, there was always a man still at the bar not knowing when to cut himself off. A game of poker that stunk of smoke and stale beer that had been going on all night. As he stepped to closer to the batwing doors he saw it. The entire entrance of the saloon had been boarded up. Windows covered with 2 x 4’s. Dried blood covering the steps of the entrance. His horse began to shuffle his feet, almost sensing the incoming danger. There was a smell in the air, and just then he knew. The gunslinger had known this smell very well. Hell, he had been smelling it behind him the last month of his journey. The smell of the rotting dead.

Just then the saloon doors began to shake, the insides sounding of low growls and noises the gunslinger could not identify even in his numerous journeys. He instinctively put his hand to his holster as the saloon doors began to shake with more and more force. He slowly took a few steps back, his horse now nearly uncontrollable behind him. He heard the clawing of wood and that same growling again but growing as if his presence had awoken more and more of what the folks of this town wanted to keep inside of this saloon.

BOOM

The clawing and sheer force of the presence inside was too much. The batwing doors flew off and that’s when the gunslinger saw it....The undead. The walking dead began to stumble out after the gunslinger, smelling the fresh meat of himself and his horse. The maggots eating away some the faces of the dead as they made their way towards the gunslinger. The gunslinger ran towards his horse trying to grapple the reins of the spooked horse. Now on his horse, He fired shots from his revolvers, all hitting their marks but useless to targets that were already dead. He turned his horse around and attempted to ride out the way he came in.

As he made some distance from the undead he could see two of the creatures standing in his way between him and his escape. As he rode closer the moonlight reflected off the badges and he knew who these men were. Shocked at the sight of the very same Sherif who gave him his bounty and a deputy beside him. He squeezed the revolver in his hand a little tighter. He lined up his shot as both of the undead inched their way closer in his path.

“Need to make this count” he thought. He lined up his revolver as he pushed his horse to go faster.

BANG

The deputy was down. A shot right between the eyes.

BANG

Down went the sheriff. A shot clear center in the temple of his skull.

He rode pass both bodies, now dead twice over.. He had shot the sherif and he did shoot the deputy. He rode into the night once again, the bright full moon above him, never to return.

Views from a gunslinger

Mask on, so they don’t see the face of this killer

Look me in my eyes and tell me you ain’t scared that ima pull this trigger

To do you dirty is priceless

I’ll leave this little maggot lifeless

One GLT POW , will have you bow down like you calling me “your highness”

Tension in the air starts to raise the humidity

Starting to think if I’m the victim or the enemy

All I know for certain is that his body dripped a lot of blood like I just took a virginity

So ruthless, before he died i gave him the death stare

Now he in the sky watching over me

So I let some shots in the air

I bet he was shocked right before I made it end

So long my friend

Actually... I’ll bring you back to life just so I can do it all over again.

In the distant western town Filled with danger all around Place you’d visit once or twice Place you think is filled with lies

There’s a house you should be ware Of the people living there - They don’t think of God or Fate In the way you would expect

In this house of pain and lust You could never dare to trust Woman’s love or man’s desire All are born from sin and fire

In the distant western town There is trouble all around Place where every girl exists With a price tag on her wrist

it’s a curse we all should fear -it’s a choice - you’d often hear Those who wield the golden metal Know no trouble they can’t settle

Lawyers, fathers, lonely souls All who left their company stores Paid the price and got attention Of the girl, they’ll never mention

In this distant ugly town Fearless maggot, goes by “Brown” Once a soldier, he used to be Descent man, but now he’s free From his wife, named Lenore From his army and their war

He lives fast and he works hard Some might say he has no heart Forces girls into submission Tortures them like it's his mission

In this dark and gloomy town No one there to face this Brown

Soon the roomer has emerged Of the man whose face is purged He wears a mask, he never speaks Travels he for many weeks

In the distant western town Man in mask has killed someone He was fast and he was fearless Shot his foe and left no witness

In this house, you should beware Someone dealt with men in there All who died were filthy cowards Striped of money and their powers

In the house of pain and lust Mister Brown has met at last Someone from his distant past

Points his gun and puts his finger Man they often call gunslinger With a slowly moving trigger,

He just tells him “nevermore” While his world is going under Brown replies with awful laughter “This is not a man, you see” Man in mask turns out to be His old wife, Her name - Lenore

Wore that mask and never talked Followed him, she even stalked All this trouble just to see, Mr.Brown who now if free From his life, he’s knocked and down In his blood, he’s shocked and drowned

How could he Like the maggot he is Looking shocked when he discovered That i knew That he was the gunslinger that killed my father The man who was a friend to all The man who cared for his family and worked his hardest My father is dead because of him And now he will pay He will cry out with sorrow as he realizes that his defeat is coming The woman who once loved him foolishly will be the reason he begins his eternal damnation in hell I Am That Woman And this is my story

Raggedy Emmet laid a hand on the stranger’s shoulder, ‘You look new around here, stranger,’ he said, ‘We allow visitors but they must sign the town registry.’ The stranger turned while Raggedy Emmet spoke this line that had been spoken countless times before. Raggedy noticed the good left eye move from the Sheriff badge attached to Raggedy’s breast to his own face. ‘Now I hate to pull you away from such a great gin-’ though it came out as gerate instead, ‘-but this is town protocol.’ ‘Says who?’ the stranger said. Raggedy Emmet suddenly felt uneasy and not from the man’s tone. It was the dead eye. The right one was clouded and the skin surrounding his eye was scarred and lumpy. He had no eyelashes or an eyebrow on that side. ‘Me,’ Raggedy Emmet said, trying to keep authority in his voice. ‘I’m the Sheriff around here and we keep an eye on the comings and goings, helps avoid… fugitives hanging around our town.’ ‘Is that so?’ the stranger said, not making a move off the stool. ‘Yup, now if ya don’t mind, you’ll have to come to the station so that we can git you signed in, and have you back here to your gin in no time.’ Raggedy Emmet was impatient now, all he wanted was to take this fugitive into custody and despite his efforts, he had a feeling the One-eyed Gunslinger was seeing through his ploy. Raggedy Emmet could feel sweat forming under the brow of his hat. ‘I’m not sure that’s going to be necessary, partner,’ he said. Raggedy Emmet was shocked, the English accent acting to grate like a blunt knife on his nerves. ‘Look here, pardner,’ he spat the word like a snake spitting venom, ‘I know who you are, maggot, and I’m going to be the one who takes you down once and for all.’ A hush fell uncomfortably over the saloon. Now all eyes and ears were turned to the confrontation at the bar as everyone now knew that the infamous One-eyed Gravedigger was indeed within shooting range of them. The One-eyed Gunslinger pushed himself from the stool, ‘You really think you could take me down, do you, Sheriff? I bet you couldn’t even shoot a can from twenty yards, eh, Sheriff.’ The goading had worked and Raggedy Emmet knew it, ‘I’m the best damn shot in this here state, and I could take you down no problem, Gravedigger,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Sheriff, please,’ the barmaid pleaded, ‘the last shoot-off you had, I couldn’t get the blood out fo’ months.’ ‘Don’t chu’ worry, Rosaline, maggot and I are taking this outside.’