Web Site: Shadows of The Macabre
From small towns in the old west many strange tales are told.
Pretty Cherie Ledux glances through the window of the sheriff’s office at the man standing in the middle of the road that has called her out, the man standing with his legs spread and his feet planted solid on the almost dried mud of the road as the late evening sun reflects in the windows of the saloon behind him. Even from here she can see he’s nervous, his long handle bar mustache twitching and his gun hand repeatedly lifting his colt forty four from it’s low slung holster to make sure it’s loose.
With a sigh she glances away and continues to buckle the gun belt around her trim waist before stepped to a wall mirror to check her hair before setting a wide brimmed hat on her head.
Guess I’ll have to look nice in case I take a bullet, if I don’t then the last thing that gunslinger will ever see is a well groomed woman drawing down on him, she reflects, primping her hair once more before turning to pick up the tin star of the sheriff and pin it on her blouse.
Who would ever believe a Can-can girl, from Paris France can possibly end up shooting down gunslingers on a dusty road in the American west, however life has many strange twist and turns, one of them her fathers dream to come to America to dig for gold. However two years later he hits pay dirt and immediately sends for Cherie to come to America to share the wealth, but when she arrives she find her father was been bitten by a Rattlesnake and died.
Finding herself alone and stranded, with only the remains of the travel money her father had sent her, Cherie ends up dancing in the saloon for a couple of dollars a week and room and board. It is here she gets into an argument with another woman over a bottle of cheap shampoo and when the girl pulls a gun and tries to shoot her, Cherie calmly draws a gun from behind the bar and shoots her dead.
Come to find out the girl has a boy friend and when word gets around he’s out gunning for her she starts to wear a gun strapped to her waist, then when he struts into the saloon one afternoon and reaches for his gun to kill her, she draws her own gun with lightning speed and puts a bullet into his heart.
When the Elders of the town see this they offer her sheriff’s job and when she learns it pays twenty dollars a month and a little house nearby she take it, since that then she’s been in two gunfights her fast draw saving her both times.
Now the sound of the latch lifting on the door causes her to whirl away from the mirror she returned to in order to pin the star on straight, her hand automatically dropping to the butt of her gun.
“Afternoon Sheriff,” says a short, hatless, old man, as the door swings open and he steps inside.
“Hi Barney,” she replies, a soft sigh easing between her lips and her hand dropping away from the cold metal of the gun. “What have you got for me?” she asks, taking a quick glance out through the window to check the man standing there, then back at the little man in disheveled dirty clothes standing before her.
“Only some wanted posters that came in on the afternoon stage,” he tells her, holding up a handful of wanted posters, “Charlie at the stage office asked me to bring them over.”
“Thanks Barney, just leave them on my desk and I’ll go over them tonight, then get yourself to safety somewhere because there is going to be shooting.
Without another word Barney drops the posters on the desk and hurries out the door, but not before he also glances out through the window, where he sees the man getting very restless and fidgeting with a watch fob hanging from his vest pocket.
Well It’s now or never, she finally hisses between her teeth, after giving Barney time to get back to the livery stable a few doors down, then with deliberate slowness she moves out onto the boardwalk and sizes the man in the road up and down before stepping from the boardwalk to the street, but before both feet touch the ground she feels a powerful burning sensation in her chest and glances down to see a hole through the tin star pinned there, immediately darkness follows and she slumps to the dirt of the street, her pretty face marring with dirt as her body rolls to a standstill.
Out on the street the man’s mustache twitches and a smirk crosses his lips as he holsters his smoking gun and turns away to enter the saloon behind him, no one paying much attention to the wind that suddenly blowing down the street. A gust of the wind wafting through the open door of the Sheriffs office to ruffle and blow a few of the wanted posters off the desk, enough to reveal the poster of the man in the street that is known for drawing down and killing a man with out warning.
Want to review or comment on this
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!