Author Topic: Spinning Sightlines: A Bizarre Adventure  (Read 40 times)

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Wheel-Son

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Re: Spinning Sightlines: A Bizarre Adventure
« on: September 05, 2019, 03:30:19 am »
Stephan Cero-Meido

   A man found himself with a bag over his head and his hands bound, with a pair of men chattering amongst themselves and the sound of a grave being dug.

   “Look who’s waking up, what’re you waitin’ for?”
   “Maybe you don’t like to look a man in the face when you’re takin’ out loose ends. But I owe ‘em that at the very least. Take the bag off.”

   The burlap sack was torn from the man’s head, revealing a bald man with a thick, grey beard ending in a knot. The older man looked the thug in the eyes, “Kch, Coward. Couldn’t take me face to face, huh?” The man spat at his captor, “Pansy.” He mocked, as his captor wiped the spit from his face. “From where you’re kneeling- it must seem like it’s an 18-carat run of bad luck, right? It ain’t nothing personal, but--” He dug out a percussion cap revolver from his harlequin pattern suit jacket. It had two large golden rabbit brooches on each breast pocket.

   “Your lil’ trail here? It’s runnin’ cold.” He uttered coldly, as he put two in the older man’s chest. The aging man fell backwards into the shallow grave, then he blacked out.


   ‘Stephan Cero-Miedo’

   'Cero Miedo…'

   ‘“No fear”, 'eh?'

   A chuckle rang in Stephan's ears, it was a wheezy, unpleasantly sharp sounding voice.

   'You may be… Worthy. But will you accept being worthy?.'

   'Will you stand up after taking two lead slugs to the chest.'

   'Who you were before was old, aging.'

   'Insignificant'

   'Who you will be now will be inconceivable'


   In the back of Stephan's mind he scoffed at the offer, "Y'damn spook, who in th'hell d'ya think y'are?" He grumbled, as the voice scoffed right back.

   'Moron, I am You.'

   'And you--'

   'Are Me.'

   'Payback is what we're owed.'

   'At the very least.'

   'I am the Hombre De Trapo y Hueso'

   'Or-- The [Rag 'n' Bone Man]'

   'Now get up.'

   'Spit out that blood--'

   'And go spill theirs.'

   Something dug itself from Stephan's 'grave' and let out a loud, piercing screech. It has a deer skull for a head, dark navy blue skin with 'Cero-Miedo' tattooed over and over down the length of its arms and legs and across it's back. It's hands had long, bony fingers ending with claws unlike sickles with limbs that nearly reached it's calves. It was nearly dusk already and the thugs' footprints were still fresh. The '[Rag 'n' Bone Man]' followed their tracks.

   Benji, the man that shot Stephan, holed up in an old desolate cabin for the night. One of his goons, a skinny, weaselly man. "Hey-- uh- Boss. Y'sure we should be stayin' so close t'where we buried--"

54   Benji brushed him off, "It's fine. No one knows what happened to him. He usually works alone anyways, yeah?"

   The droog gave a shrug, "I suppose, yeah…" He scrunched up his face, "Still can't shake th'feelin' like we got a 'bad omen' or somethin'."

   Benji rolled his eyes as the goon walked off to keep an eye out of the window. Unbeknownst to him and the rest of his goons.

   There was something on the prowl.

   Suddenly, a clawed hand snatched up one of the goons through the window with a crash. It dug it's curved, sickle-like claws into the man's skull as it left as suddenly as it appeared.

   Panicked shouts and sounds of cleared leather filled the cabin. The group of five drew their cheap blackpowder pistols. Dragoons, patersons. One kept a sawed down lever-shotgun.

   It was dead silent as the goons watched the windows, the doors, any way that beast could get in. Before they could get comfortable there was another crash, the snatchee's upper half was thrown through another window.

   The corpse's face was mangled, almost mush. One of the goons let loose his supper at the sight, another began to cuss and pray. Benji kept his cool, gesturing towards the back room and the man with the scattergun. "You! Make sure it won't go after the young'n!" He barked, before he noticed something in shattered window.

   A stag's skull, with a pair of dark brown eyes with a large, black iris in it's sockets. "CHRIST-- THE SPOOK!" Benji hollered, as he worked the hammer clumsily to fire at the beast. The woodwork was torn to shreds as the remaining four open fire. It was silent once again, the goons glanced around just as the beast reached deep into the cabin as one subconsciously backed up. Benji shouted at him, only to dodge too late and the sickle-like claws ripped a chunk of the man’s neck.

   He fell to the floor, clutching at the gushing neck wound as he gurgled. Slowly bleeding to death, he squeezed the wound in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. The [Rag ‘n’ Bone Man] climbed inside-- And Benji worked the hammer of his pistol, firing the last shot in the cylinder. The beast barely even flinched as it screeched, and everyone’s ears began to ring. The beast gripped a weathered end table, bashing open another goon’s skull. The piece of furniture broke into splinters as [Ran ‘n’ Bone Man] took another shot from a pistol, before the beast skewered the thug with a piece of the splintered end table. The monster took in a deep breath and let out another deafening screech, as it descended on Benji as he struggled to reload his pistol.

   The beast dug its claws into Benji’s chest, before ripping the man’s body into two seperate pieces. The creature huffed, and wheeze.

   And it began to calm down, somewhat. It’s eyes went from dark brown with a large iris to a more human-like green, with a smaller iris. The creature stumbled towards the back room, only to open the door. Inside was a young child, a little boy. The beast stared at it. It stared at it for a while.

   Before it simply stepped out of the way and pointed towards the front door.

   As soon as the little boy skittered out of the cabin, the beast blacked out. Soon, Stephan woke up to the slaughter. He got up, a couple of new pains ached from his excapade. He groggily looked around, it was already morning and he spotted a box of cigars.

   Grumbling at that, he picked up a fresh cigar from the box, snatching up the lever-shotgun. He walked outside, sat on the wet grass, and lit up the cigar. It was already morning and the stench inside the cabin was overwhelming.

   Someone walked up, someone dressed in a maroon gothic waistcoat, a dark blue puffed shirt and houndstooth pattern pants. He had bright blonde hair, and bright blue eyes.

   Stephan knew him as Edward Blutsauger, he worked with him often. He was a close friend.

   Edward let out a “Christ, old man. I thought you got yourself killed… You look like shit.”

   At that, Stephan let out a simple, “Feh. That bastard couldn’t kill me with my hands tied behind my back. Did’ja find the kid?”

   Edward nodded, “Yessir, brought’im back to the sheriff. Got a pretty penny for it.”

   Stephan let out an amused snort, “Good. Ah need t’get a new coat…” He grumbled, as he stood up with a groan, walking back to town with Edward.

To Be Continued
« Last Edit: September 05, 2019, 03:34:22 am by Wheel-Son »
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