"The job's done," Alain reported.

Ansley clapped his hands together, a big grin crossing his face. "Excellent, my boy!"

Alain showed no reaction to his employer's praise, instead looking around the room. He was standing in Ansley's office, on the second floor of the town hall. The office looked normal enough – it was covered in expensive-looking furniture, along with a few fully-stocked bookshelves. The only things out of the ordinary that he could find were the taxidermy deer head hanging above the door, plus the small table with a bottle of whiskey and some glasses on it.

Ansley reached into his desk and pulled out a stack of bills, which he counted out before handing over to Alain.

"It's all there," he assured him.

Alain nodded, then took a moment to confirm his employer was telling the truth. Once he was finished counting the money, he pocketed it.

"If you don't mind me asking," Ansley said, catching Alain as he turned to leave. "Did you notice anything out-of-the-ordinary while fighting the bandits?"

He certainly had, but somehow, he could tell that wasn't the answer Ansley was fishing for. Alain hesitated for a moment before answering.

"One of them said something funny," he offered. "About some missing girls."

Ansley's expression faltered for a moment. "Ah… terrible business, that – we have had a few women of ill repute go missing recently. We suspect it was a drifter passing through town – the disappearances stopped after he left. We've already alerted the authorities about the whole thing. With any luck, they'll catch him and bring him to justice."

Alain frowned. How convenient that the missing women could be blamed on a transient with no ties to the town and no way to verify the story. Still, he nodded along with Ansley's statement, unwilling to express his doubts to the man openly.

"Thanks for the money," Alain said, before turning and leaving.

–

As much as it pained him to have to admit, he owed Az and Sable for their part in eliminating the bandits. Still, that didn't make it any easier for him to track them down and force himself to offer them half of the two-hundred dollars he'd been given.

Then again, after what had happened with those bandits, the last thing he wanted was to stiff those two. Whatever they'd done to eliminate the bandits, he wanted no part of it.

And that was how he'd found himself standing outside their room at the inn, knocking on their door.

Sable opened it after a moment and stared at him. She did not seem at all surprised to see him there.

"And the subject returns to his queen-to-be yet again," she said. "What is it this time?"

"Came to offer you both your half of the money," Alain said. He held out a small wad of money.

Sable stared at it, then sniffed dismissively.

"Paper money is uncouth," she commented. "What happened to the old days of dealing in gold and silver?"

"Died when it became clear that paper money was a lot easier to carry around, I suppose. Do you want the money or not?"

Sable plucked the cash out of his hands, shivering when her hand touched his. Alain raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't say anything. Most likely, she was just dismayed at having touched a commoner's hands or something.

"Will you be staying in town long?" Sable asked.

"Why do you care?" Alain replied.

"You have proven yourself to be quite reliable. I was wondering if you would be interested in more work."

Truth be told, the last thing he wanted was to work with these two again. Sure, they probably had another valuable gemstone to offer him as payment, but at this point, it wasn't worth having to put up with them anymore.

Alain shook his head. "I'll be heading out shortly."

"Shame. We were hoping you'd be interested in those missing girls."

Alain froze, staring at her in shock. He recovered quickly, however, a neutral expression crossing his face. "That's none of my business. Besides, I spoke to the mayor – he told me they already suspect who did it."

"But they don't know for sure, now do they?" Sable countered.

"I'm curious as to why you care."

"Why wouldn't I care? I am a target, same as they were – a young woman passing through town with no connections and very few who would miss her. That is cause for concern, if you ask me."

"Well, I want no part of it," Alain said emphatically. "If you need a bodyguard, you've already got Az. If you're looking for a detective, you'll need to find someone else, because I'm going to be moving on."

"Suit yourself," Sable said with a shrug. "But should you change your mind, you know where to find us."

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

With that, she closed the door in his face. Alain immediately turned and marched out of the inn.

He needed a drink.

–

Hours later, Alain came stumbling out of the bar, his vision swimming. He raised up to his forehead, a groan escaping him.

He'd gotten carried away again, but in his defense, a hundred dollars bought a lot of booze. He'd barely even made a dent in his finances, and he'd been drinking for hours. It was late at night now, and he was very, very drunk. Still, it was worth it, in his opinion – anything to take his mind off the craziness of the past few days. At least, that was what he told himself to make the throbbing in his head hurt just a bit less.

With nothing else to do, Alain began to stumble back towards the inn he was staying at, nearly tripping over himself with every step. The full moon above illuminated his path forward, as did the occasional light coming out from one of the nearby buildings. It had to be almost ten at night now, if he were to wager a guess – far later than he normally stayed up, used to his schedule in the fields as he was.

As Alain approached the inn, something caught his eye – a small light off in the distance, in the cemetery. He stared at it with curiosity for a moment, unsure of what to make of it, before he heard something.

In the middle of the cemetery, he could hear what was unmistakably a woman's gentle crying.

His breath caught in his throat, and his hands began to shake as he recalled Felix's story. He'd dismissed it as pure fantasy cooked up by some superstitious locals, but that didn't explain what he was seeing and hearing now.

Movement caught his attention, and to his surprise, two figures began to move towards the cemetery. Through the darkness, he was able to tell that they were Sable and Az. He stared in stunned disbelief as they approached the graveyard. As they did so, the light intensified, and the crying stopped.

That was all he needed to see. Alain turned and began to sprint away, trying to put as much distance between himself and the cemetery as he could. He ran through town, the only thought on his mind being to get as far away from the two of them as possible. Drunk as he was, he didn't even realize where he was running, only stopping when he was out of breath. Alain doubled over, his hands on his knees as he gasped for air. He looked up and found that he was standing outside the sheriff's office, and that against all odds, the lights were still on.

That was a good sign, at least – after all, who else would he talk to about this aside from the sheriff? If nothing else, this was two people desecrating the dead – he wasn't sure exactly what Az and Sable were doing in that graveyard, but knowing them, it was nothing good.

He stood up, dusted himself off, and pushed his way through the doors into the sheriff's office. There were three people inside, the sheriff himself and two deputies. All of them looked up at him in surprise.

"Can we help you, sir?" one of them asked.

"You can," Alain said, his words coming out slurred. "Graveyard… two people there, doing something."

The deputies exchanged a glance with each other. The sheriff let out a sigh, then stood up and approached him.

"Easy there, fella," he said, his voice gentle. "You're drunk. You sure you aren't just seeing things?"

"Drunk or not, I know what I saw," Alain insisted. "There are two people in that graveyard, and I know I heard a woman crying out there. Something's going on, I just don't know what."

Again, the three lawmen exchanged a glance with each other before they looked back to him.

"Have a seat, son," the sheriff offered. "Talk to us a bit."

Alain obliged, taking a seat towards the back of the office. The three men sat in front of him, all leaned in and eager to hear what he had to say. Alain sighed, then brought a hand up to wipe sweat from his brow.

"It's like I said, there are two people out there, messing with the cemetery. No idea what they're doing, but knowing them, it's nothing good."

"You know them?" one of the deputies asked.

He nodded. "We came into town together. I did some jobs for them. But there's something that's not right about those two – can't put my finger on it, but something about them is just plain wrong."

"This guy's higher than a Georgia pine," one of the deputies declared. "What do you think, Adams?"

The sheriff, Adams, crossed his arms. "I think he might need to spend a night here to detox."

"Damn it, I'm not crazy," Alain declared. "I know what I saw." He shook his head. "There's so much weird shit going on around here… these two fucking people, ghost stories, missing girls-"

"Missing girls?" Adams asked, leaning in. "You know about that?"

Alain paused and looked around the room. It was like a switch had just been flipped – the demeanor of the three men had just changed completely. They'd gone from being interested in his story to eyeing him with suspicion. Clearly, he'd said something very wrong that had set them off. He hesitated, then held up his hands in surrender.

"I don't know anything about that except for what little I've heard," he said.

"You shouldn't have heard anything about it," Adams replied. "That case has been solved. There's nothing more to discuss."

"Sorry for bringing it up-"

"You're not making any sense, son. What's this ghost story you were talking about? Surely you don't believe that bullshit."

"I don't, but-"

"Then why bring it up?"

"Because-"

"And these two people you came into town with… what's their story?"

"I have no idea," Alain insisted. "Said they were from Romania or some shit. I don't-"

"Romania?" Adams echoed, his eyes going wide. After a moment, his demeanor changed again, and he turned to his deputies. "Watch him."

Both men nodded, and before Alain could do anything, they rose up and approached him. He jumped out of his seat and back up, holding his arms out to keep them at bay.

"Get the fuck away from me," he growled. "What's going on?"

"Nothing that concerns you, son," Adams replied. He approached the nearby gun cabinet and retrieved a shotgun from it.

"

What are you doing with that? You can't just-"

"Shut up," Adams growled, turning towards him. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "You have no idea what you've brought to our town, do you?"

Alain froze at that. "I don't-"

"Thought so. Boys, get him under control while I take care of this."

With that, Adams left, shotgun in hand. The deputies closed in on Alain once more, and he stared at them, unsure of what to do. His first was to go for the revolver holstered on his hip, but he pushed that thought away as quickly as it came – there was no way he'd be able to get away with gunning down two lawmen in cold blood. He was going to have to find some other way out.

One of the deputies suddenly lunged for him, and Alain swerved at the last minute, avoiding the incoming strike and lashing out with a blind punch of his own. He felt the deputy's nose crunch underneath his fist, and the man reeled back, blood gushing down his face. The other man closed in on him, his fist rocketing towards Alain's stomach; it hit with far more force than Alain expected, and he doubled over in pain, the air driven from his lungs.

Both men approached him once more, but before they could reach him, Alain pushed through his pain and leapt to his feet, grabbing the chair he'd been sitting in just moments ago. He used it like a club, bashing both deputies with it a few times before the wood shattered. He stared at the two legs in his hands in dismay, then let them both drop to the ground.

The lawmen were lying in a heap on the floor, blood dripping down their faces. That should have been the end of it, but to Alain's surprise, they both began to pick themselves up again, their faces contorted in anger. One of them lunged for him and the other drew his revolver. Alain's eyes widened, and just before the first shot rang out, he threw himself to the floor. The gunshot echoed through the building like rolling thunder, and he winced, his ears ringing. Still, he was quick to pick himself up, and this time, he didn't bother holding back. At this point, they were trying to kill him, so he had no choice but to defend himself as best as he could.

Alain threw caution to the wind and drew his own revolver. As the other deputy closed in on him, Alain opened fire, sending two rounds into the man's legs. He fell to the ground, screaming. Before Alain could search for the next one, two more gunshots rang out, the bullets impacting the ground just a few centimeters away from his face. Alain reacted instinctively, turning and firing; three shots left his revolver as fast as he could pull the trigger and thumb the hammer. They all struck the deputy in the chest, and he fell to the ground, where he laid motionlessly.

Alain's eyes widened as he realized what he'd done. He rose to his feet, rushing over to the deputy to check him.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he said when he saw the holes in the man's chest, right where his heart would be. "I didn't mean to-"

Then, before he could finish his sentence, the dead deputy's eyes opened. Alain froze in fear as the clearly-dead man began to rise up, reaching for his gun. Alain fell backwards, then scrambled away. He made it out the door just as a series of gunshots rang out from behind him, all of them thankfully missing him.

Alain ran once again, just trying to put some distance between himself and the hostile deputies. By this time, people in town had started to leave their houses and investigate the commotion; he ignored all of them, instead running blindly for wherever looked the safest.

Alain rounded a corner just on the outskirts of town and smacked into someone. He fell back, his Colt slipping from his grasp and landing in the sand below. Shaking the stars from his eyes, he looked up.

Az stared down at him. He was covered in blood.

That was all Alain needed to see. He scrambled for his revolver, pointing it at Az. The giant was unperturbed, however.

"Put it down," he warned.

"Stay the fuck away from me," Alain growled. "Get back!"

Az didn't listen, instead continuing to stand there. Alain thumbed the hammer back on his gun, his finger hovering over the trigger, just waiting for him to make a move.

Then, there was a sudden pain in his neck. Alain fell backwards, his gun discharging harmlessly into the air as his vision swam.

The last thing he was aware of before he passed out was Sable staring down at him, her red eyes seeming to glow under the light of the full moon.