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Smutty's One-shots

#10- This is a piece I wrote for a prompt-based contest.

When a bullet hits a person, it’s not at all the way I’d imagined. There is no deafening sound beforehand or dramatic, shocked expression on the face of the target. The blood sprays through the air in an astonishing cloud, you hear the gunpowder explode, and you see the splintered plaster flying from where the bullet lodges all in a single moment. Only then does the dying man fall, when you’re both deafened from the blast and haven’t even registered what’s happened. It’s all so, so fast. But the screaming, the groans, the stench- all that comes later.

Well, unless the hail of gunfire never ends. I was surrounded by a senseless, gruesome cacophony, stink and violence and gore flying everywhere. I wondered if the storied gunslingers of yore were able to adjust to it. Or was this much worse because of the Shadow Force’s ‘holy’ firearms?

I wiped an unshed tear from my eye. I was supposed to be a farmer, not a soldier in a rebellion. This was a peaceful place, it always had been. Why hadn’t we all fought back sooner?

I forced my eyes away from Tibor, the dying man to my left, and concentrated on reloading. I couldn’t afford to let myself get distracted. Tibs wouldn’t want me to; his already dead wife- my cousin- wouldn’t want me to either. This was it; this was the last stand for my town, for what was left of my family and friends. I couldn’t let the fallen distract me.

A part of me I forced myself to ignore knew we were all doomed. F.E.A.R. was everywhere now; they were too strong. We had heard rumors that they were wiping out all the noncompliant outlying settlements months ago and we had been preparing ever since. But now that the hand of the Matriarch was actually here, it was obvious that nothing we could have done would ever have been sufficient. For every Shadow taken down, two seemed to take its place. All of us small towns, the tiny pockets of passive defiance, would invariably be snuffed out. It was only a matter of time until F.E.A.R. had consumed everything and everyone.

But there was no turning back- giving up had never been an option. Our determination to stay free would be our undoing, true. But all of us had agreed that it was better to die for our beliefs, to die independent, than to serve as slaves to so profound an evil. It had been easier during the town halls to be brave and challenge the theocracy- there had even been cheers and applause. Now, as we were being slaughtered, we were paying the mortal price for our convictions.

I grit my teeth, drawing on every ounce of my resolve. I would take as many of the Shadow Force down with me as I could. Cecilia Harris, the Matriarch, the Serpent, whatever you wanted to call her- she was no President of mine and would pay for her crimes with every drop of inky blood I could spill before they took me down. I felt a rictus of desperation spread across my face. This was it. We had to make it count- I had to make it count.

I was crawling closer to the barricade when the seemingly endless roar of gunshots abruptly stopped. Terror I refused to acknowledge wobbled oily in my gut as I went to peer through a gap in the wooden furniture barricade we had built.

The Shadows were all standing silently, black armor barely moving, making no attempt to take shelter from our pitiful resistance. A few shots were fired from our side, and a couple of them fell without a single groan. All of them had their arcane firearms at their sides. They weren’t human, they had no instinct for self-preservation, maybe didn’t even have thoughts of their own. She knew they had us. She was just waiting for us to give up or run out of ammo. She probably didn’t want to waste anymore of her own. Apparently their ammunition was more valuable to her than the Shadows themselves.

Even so, there were far too many of them now, we could no longer harbor any fantasies of survival. There were definitely far, far more than there had been when we had retreated here from the streets. Where were they coming from? Using guns, only copper bullets could bring down a Shadow, and the handful of us left didn’t have nearly enough. Shit, we hadn’t had enough to start with. Even if every shot was true, we couldn’t win.

We had seconds to react to the menacing, silent horde- keep firing, or stop forever. For an instant, real doubt fluttered through me. If we surrendered as they expected... would Harris spare the children, the elderly in the vault behind us? We had all decided to fight to the end, that any life under F.E.A.R. wasn’t worth living. But was that our decision to make for those terrified kids?

A moment of clarity hit me like some kind of chilly internal wind. Either they would kill everyone or not, regardless of our willing surrender. For each of us, crouching behind our wall of tables, cabinets, and chairs, facing certain defeat- we each had a choice. And I chose to go down fighting. I would take as many of them with me as I could, if only for myself.

I freed Tibor’s pistol from his now loose fingers and reloaded it. Counting my own revolver, I had twelve shots. Time to make the most of them. My father had taught me to shoot, and I knew a few tricks. Focus, the key was focus. I took one long, deep breath to clear my mind. The guns were a part of me, an extension of me. I would aim; I would fire. Every bullet would find its mark.

I sprang to my feet, both arms fully extended, aiming as I stood. I fired off three shots, dropping three Shadows, before I registered that all of them had turned, none of them were facing me! But I had no time to think. I kept aiming and firing, dropping another two and missing once, before they all started a horrible, keening cry. Two more shots, two more down, and they were leaving! They hadn’t even looked at me!

I fired off my remaining four shots as they all streamed out of the bank’s front door, still howling horrifically. My ears rang from the gunfire, but the sound of their eerie scream seemed to scrape at the inside of my spine. My whole body was shaking with adrenalin.

Why wasn’t I dead?

What had just happened?! Had we won?

And then I heard it. It was almost indistinguishable over the ringing in my ears and the Shadow Force's wailing, but it was definitely there- the whooping cries of people, other people. I ran, breathless and almost deaf, to the shattered remains of a window. Could it possibly be…?

As soon as I saw them, my whole body broke out in goosebumps. A legend had manifested before me. It was them- the Legion of the Black. They were real!

Groups of vagabonds in dark rags fought back the Shadows, killing them with mystical weapons made of bones and feathers, leather and metal and hair. If I had any doubts, a dirty black banner, held proudly aloft by a child in a mask, bore the hallowed Mourningstar in white. From somewhere, a man’s commanding voice rang out impossibly clearly, “we are united!” The Legion had come, they were here!

Fire shot from the hand of one man to engulf the riot mask of a Shadow. At the same time, the ground shook from the impact of another man’s fist, and three more Shadows crumpled to the ground. I recognized both men instantly from the ancient prophecy. The Mystic and the Destroyer!

My heart quickened, enticed by a sliver of hope. The Wild Ones fought with the Legion. The Wild Ones fought with us!

A strange sight caught my eye- a Shadow, shorter than the rest, began firing on its fellows! Right before my eyes, it turned into a laughing man with glittering eyes who quickly disappeared again. And there- a tall, somber man held out his hands, and I saw two dead Shadows rise, black blood still draining, and charge the Shadow Force at their center! Could it really be the Deviant and the Mourner?

The raggedy group was pressing back the Shadows! Their weapons gleamed with a magical light, taking down the blackened horde with preternatural ease. It was then that another tall figure caught my eye. At the head of the fighting, I could somehow hear his shouts distinctly. His voice was so deep, and it rang out in my mind as plainly as if though he stood next to me on a quiet day. “Legion! Raise your fists up and stand until the end!”

My spirits were instantly buoyed, my courage bolstered as I somehow heard his command. At that moment, hearing the battle cry of the mythical Prophet, my foolish reverie thankfully shattered apart.

I turned to find what was left of my town’s fighting force peering at me from behind our barricade, clearly frightened and confused. I had the charisma of a dog turd, I was no leader, but I knew someone had to try and rally them. This fight wasn’t over yet. “The Legion of the Black is here! The Wild Ones lead them!” I hesitated, uncertain and trying to hide it. I could barely hear myself shouting. “We have to help!” I paused. Something more was needed. I raised my fist, feeling only slightly ridiculous, “down with the Serpent! For freedom!”

I thought I heard a few weak cheers, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was running back behind the barricade, stuffing copper bullets into my pockets wherever I found them. I ignored the faces I saw that were bleak and without hope and ran out the ruined bank door, reloading as I went.

Battles, it seemed, were not the way the stories described them either. I had to flank the Shadows from a distance to get clear shots, everything was roiling and the dust obscuring so much it was hard to see. My eyes watered and I wiped my arm across them, not letting the distraction ruin my focus. Over and over I heard the Prophet’s commanding baritone in my very bones. “Justice rises! Our time has come!” Somehow his voice helped me focus, helped me find the enemy in the dust clouds.

I don’t know how much time passed, how many times I had to reload, only that I had four bullets left when the last few Shadows hit the ground. None of them had tried to retreat, not even in the face of certain defeat. Unlike my village, I doubted it had anything to do with bravery or desperation.

I holstered my weapons, only then registering that I couldn’t hear at all, the gunfire had completely deafened me. Uncertain, I walked towards the Legion. I had assumed they were here as allies, but what if I had been wrong? I cursed myself for not thinking to stuff some cloth in my ears earlier. How would I communicate?

My head was filled with a hollow, constant ringing completely disconnected from what surrounded me. As I approached, the Legion didn’t appear hostile, though they did all keep their distance, moving away from me as I got close. A few gave warm nods before turning away. I tried to say, “I am a friend,” but I couldn’t hear myself talking. I started to panic. “Are you here to hurt us?” Could they hear me? Was I being too quiet?

I recognized The Destroyer as he approached me with a wide smile, shaking his head. I found he inexplicably made me feel at ease, and my dread subsided a bit. Without trying to talk (for which I found myself grateful), he gently guided me through the crowd. The Legion had started to sheathe their weapons, inspect and treat their wounded, and strip the bodies of the dead.

Abruptly, we stopped. The Destroyer tapped on the back of another man, and I found myself face to face with the Prophet. He was tall, though not as tall as the stories had said. He was bleeding from a swollen cut on his forehead, and the blood was running into his left eye. An eye so blue…so blue… words left me as I rudely stared.

He gave me an apologetic smile before talking to me in that same clear, internal voice. “We were late. I’m so sorry.”

I blinked and tried my best to answer while unable to hear my own voice, “you saved us! You’re the Prophet- you’re real; the Legion is real! You fought for us! You-“

I went quiet when I saw him extend his dirty hand. “Please, just Andy. You are (Y/N), the leader of this place and its people.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Andy? Really? Just ‘Andy?’ I shook my head as I took his proffered hand, “we have no leader, we’ve been subsisting-“

The Prophet, Andy, smiled tolerantly. His handshake was firm and even. “You are a leader. You are their leader. Will you join us?”

Notes

This is the first thing I've written related to the W & D mythos. Hope it was entertaining.

Comments

@SmuttyPariah
oh I didn't know that

Brooke black Brooke black
4/21/19

@Brooke black

I have never taken requests.

SmuttyPariah SmuttyPariah
4/9/19

Are you still taking requests

Brooke black Brooke black
4/8/19

@SmuttyPariah
Well, I love your writing. But you already know that.

@onefinalfightdoe


Awww, thanks! :D

SmuttyPariah SmuttyPariah
10/27/18