Dallas, 1875.
The dry Texas heat beamed down on Edith's grimy face, a noose was wrapped firmly around his neck. Strung up to his right a familiar face, Francis. He was about 20 years younger and a whole lot mangier. A crowd hungry for their bi weekly entertainment demanded the ceremony make way, causing the sickly red-faced sheriff to break out in a cold sweat atop his heat sweat.
"Ain't lookin' too good for us is it partner?" Francis asked jokingly.
"Eh, I've been in worse," Edith stated
"Sure ya have tough guy. Well this one's a first for me, so if there's some secret to not dyin' when you're suppose to I'd be keen on knowin' what it is."
"You just gotta not wanna die more than they wanna kill ya," said Edith with a smirk.
The crowd made way for an unnaturally broad man in full black robes topped off with a black hood with little holes cut for his eyes and mouth. The crowd erupted in a vigorous applause, this was the moment they had been waiting for.
"Well lookie who we've got here, the world renowned Five Finger Francis.... and his little bitch,” the hooded man announced to the crowd, but keeping eye contact with Edith.
"We're gonna have some fun today everyone, a truly special show.".
Edith shot a malignant glare back at the hooded man. A rotten, bitten into apple smacked him across the face as the crowd was hitting peak excitement. They then began pelting the men with everything from pennies to handfuls of feces.
“Hey, how come you get a cool nickname like Five Finger Francis? Am I just the sidekick to these people?" muttered Edith to Francis.
"It ain't my fault you're about as charismatic as eunuch on valentines day," quipped Francis, both men letting out a snigger.
The robed man leapt onto the gallows and unleashed a rib splitting strike to each man.
"This'll be over much quicker if you two keep yer damn traps shut," The man said almost sincerely.
"Now go on then Sheriff, if you'd like to get this function under way.".
The sheriff wiped both his wet and cold sweat away using his sleeve and made his way towards center stage. The crowd began to quiet down in his presence.
"Good people of Dallas, I hope you're all doing well this evening. We're here today to sentence these two vile men to death by hanging. The actions they've taken have led them here before us to experience righteous retribution for their sins committed to fellow man under god. Some, but not all of these actions include murder, rape, robbery, associatin' with savages and many more atrocities I don't need to worry you fine people with. Now, before we commenserate with the hangin, I'd like to give both of these men a moment to make their peace. We'll start with you," the sheriff said as he pointed towards Edith.
Edith cleared his throat vigorously.
"Well, my good people. I really only have one thing to say. Most of what he said is true, I'd just like to take this opportunity to say this. I ain't never raped no one. See the sheriff's wife here... She wanted me to fuck her, I just obliged." Edith said as he spit at the sheriff's feet.
"You little shit... Fuck their last words. Hang em' both," Said the sheriff in a frenzy as he stepped to the side to give the audience a view. Edith winked at Francis who looked panicked. The hooded man approached and placed sacks on both Edith and Francis’ heads.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
"To hell with ceremony, hang em' dead," said the sheriff, ready to be done with this ordeal.
The crowd just about lost it, so ready for bloodshed. Ready for ‘lawful’ execution. The hooded man took his position at the lever awaiting his orders to drop the two outlaws to their deaths.
"What are you waiting for?" asked the sheriff impatiently.
"Sorry boss," replied the hooded man who immediately initiated the lever.
But the men didn’t drop. Instead, an enormous explosion was initiated directly in the center of the crowd. The sheriff and executioner leapt for cover from the blast. The spectators in the center were turned to meat pies and a few luckier individuals further from the immediate blast zone simply lost limbs.
"Holy shit! What the hell was that?" screamed Francis.
Two almost simultaneous gunshots rang through the air followed by the snapping of the ropes attaching Edith and Francis to the gallows.
"Don't worry about it, we gotta move," Edith replied.
The two men were tied up, both hands and feet bound. They began to hop towards the edge of the gallows blindly.
"Jump!" shouted Edith.
And jump they did, right into puddles of flesh and screaming bodies. They began to waddle through the mash as quickly as possible.
"What the fuck am I walking through?" asked Francis, pretty sure he already knew the answer.
"Don't worry about it! Keep moving.".
The sheriff and the hooded man had regained their composure at this point and began to piece together what had just occurred.
"You fuckin' pieces of shit! You think you're just gonna get away with this?" shouted the sheriff drawing his sidearm and opening fire at the two hobbled fugitives and missing each time. Another shot rang out from a distance, followed by the sheriff's weapon flying out of his hand and a stream of blood pouring down his fingers.
"You kill him?" shouted Edith.
A native american man wearing traditional cowboy garb pulled up on his horse holding his rifle at the ready. He was followed by two white men, one very fat and the other very
thin.
"No, would you like me to?" asked the native american man while watching the sheriff make his getaway,
“Nah, I'll take care of him myself. Wanted to come back for one last go with his wife anyways." scoffed Edith.
The native american man leapt off his horse and removed the sacks from Edith and Francis' heads, then pulled out a utilitarian tomahawk from his belt and cut them free. Another shot rang out.
”What the fuck! My goddamn ass!" retched Francis with blood oozing from his right buttcheek.
The men turned to see who shot, it was the hooded man holding a revolver. Realizing he was completely outnumbered and looking back to that the sheriff was already making his escape, he dropped his gun to the ground.
"Umm, sorry," the hooded man muttered.
"They just never learn do they?" asked Edith excitedly as he held out his hand to his native american friend who simply rolled his eyes and handed Edith his tomahawk.
"Just make it quick my friend, the other lawmen will be here soon,” he said annoyedly as he helped Francis onto his horse.
"I just need a second," said Edith, followed by a wink and a fast walk towards the hooded man. The hooded man stands motionless waiting for Edith's arrival.
"At least give me the honor of havin' a fair fight to save myself," the man pleaded pointing to the knife at his belt.
"Shoulda thought of that before you called me a dog, far as I'm aware dogs ain't got no honor," Edith stated and pointed directly at the man's leg.
Another shot erupted hitting the man directly in the shin bone causing his leg to snap in two. The man screamed in agony as he hit the hard dirt, his lower portion of leg just barely held on by his skin.
"Please, just let me-" the man's words were cut short by swift blows to his neck from the tomahawk.