As I stood in front of the crowd, I felt the air quiver with anticipation as they waited for my next move.

I had been declared their hero, their saviour and as they watched and waited I couldn't help but feel so utterly unqualified.

The hulking figure walked towards me, their jacket moved in the breeze, the midday sun reflecting from their pistol, their face shrouded under the shadow of their wide brimmed hat.

They looked over me expectantly. As if they had thought I'd do more.

What was only meant to be a stop for supplies was suddenly a life and death situation. He kicked my revolver back towards me, staring at me, mocking my very existence.

With uproarious laughter, the people shuddered in fear, the man finally spoke, in a cold and sharp tone

“Take your shot, stranger. You’ll only get one.”