The noonday sun was high in the sky as a dozen dark-clad men rode into town. Dressed in head to toe in dark black leathers, each had the look of a hard life about them. Scars and tattoos were plainly visible where skin was bare, and the leader had a blood red patch over his left eye. People scattered at their approach, with the riders seeming to take no attempt to slow down or avoid anyone who might be in their path.

“George! Jones!” Eye-patch called out two names and two rough looking men nudged their horses to move up beside his as Eye-patch trotted to a stop in front of the lone tavern in town.

“Yeah, boss.” One of the men nodded his head respectfully, while the other one was looking all around, eyeing up the local shops and houses.

“The two of you go round up us some pretty little entertainment for tonight,” Eye-patch ordered, sliding down off his horse. “Nothing too used,” he reminded them. “Even a hick town like this should have one or two young phillies fit for riding.”

“Sure thing, boss,” one of the men answered, while the other replied with just, “Ya got it.” Turning quickly, they both rode off towards the mayor’s house, as his was the largest one they saw in the town.

“Johnny! Cash! The two of you get your asses up here!” Calling two more names, Eye-patch tied his horse at the rails in front of the tavern.

“Ugghh.” Riding up, the next two men seemed almost offended at being called upon. “Whut ya want?” The younger, blond-haired man of the pair, spat phlegm into the street, while the older, balding man simple waited as if he was bored.

“The two of you get to let the kind folks of this town know that we’re here to collect their taxes on living,” Eye-patch answered, gesturing his hand to indicate all around. “Don’t forget to remind them, we’re here to repossess for non-payment, if necessary.”

“Yup,” the blond-haired man answered, turning his horse to ride off towards the edge of town. Baldy followed quickly right behind.

“The rest of you spread out,” Eye-patch commanded. “We’ve gotten word that the girl we were looking for is here somewhere. Find her and brin…”

“You’re not welcome here,” an old woman interrupted. Bent over in a deep arthritic stoop, hair long and graying, the old lady waved her cane over at the men as she came waddling across the street.

Blinking at being interrupted, Eye-patch laughed when he saw the wrinkled old bag of bones approaching. “Get the hell out of here granny, while you still can,” he warned, eyes narrowing evilly.

“You’re not welcome here,” the old woman stubbornly repeated, staggering proudly to stand directly in front of Eye-patch.

“I’m welcome wherever the hell I want to go,” Eye-patch assured her. Drawing back a gloved fist, he smacked it across the old woman’s face, knocking her several feet back, where she staggered and fell to her ass.

Putting a wrinkled old hand up against the swelling side of her cheek, Granny Jean slowly ran her tongue against her teeth to see if any had been knocked out. Raucous laughter echoed from the half-dozen men who were still gathered around Eye-patch waiting for him to finish giving his orders.

“Mother help me,” the old woman sighed, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

“Yes, Revered Sister?” Seemingly from nowhere, a young gentleman stepped into the middle of the street and politely offered a hand out to the old woman. Dressed with a moonlight-silver cloak wrapped around his body, with glossy obsidian boots shining at the bottom, he appeared to be someone of some wealth and authority.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Granny took hand, as the young gentleman slowly bent down and kissed it reverently, before helping her to her feet. “Is my Revered Sister in need of assistance?” His voice was soft, and his face was angelic as she stared at the old woman with an expression of deep love plainly visible across his face.

“They. Are. Not. Welcome. Here.” Granny deliberately spoke each word one-by-one as she stared back over at Eye-patch and his men.

“Then I shall remove the trash from my Revered Sister’s eyes,” the gentleman promised. Leaning forward, he hugged her tightly, holding the embrace for several long moments as the men laughed hardily amongst themselves.

“Hear that, boys? He’s going to take us out,” Eye-patch cackled, drawing a long serrated sword from the sheath at his waist. The sound of steel being down and wild laughter echoed throughout the street as the others followed his lead.

Sighing deeply, contentedly, the young gentleman reluctantly released his embrace from the old woman. Turning to face the riders, he took a single step forward as the sky around the town suddenly turned dark. Shadows rushed from nowhere to block out the sun, as an abyssal-black scythe twice his height, with a blade nearly as long, formed itself out of nothingness to the young man’s hands.

Pandemonium broke lose all at once, as every horse reared and cried out in absolute terror. Throwing all the riders from their backs save one, who apparently had more skill at staying in his saddle, the horses scattered and ran in all directions away from the young gentleman striding slowly across the street.

Flicking his wrist once as he walked, frost appeared on the ground where the young gentleman walked. With a sudden “THUDD”, the horse that was tired at the tavern fell to the ground split in half, as did the thick wooden posts which it was tied to, and half the blade which Eye-patch was still holding as blood dripped slowly down his arm.

“Wait!” Yelling, the old woman quickly wobbled across the street to place a hand upon the young gentleman’s shoulder, restraining him.

“Yes, Revered Sister?” Glancing back, the young man answered very politely. The shadows instantly faded, as the scythe in the young man’s hand evaporated like the morning fog after sunrise.

Sniffing, the old woman wrinkled her nose several times, tasting the air. Pointing an old finger at Eye-patch, Granny’s eye squinted together tightly, as the corners of her mouth twitched up and down. “I smell the blood of a Dove on this one,” she uttered in a bare whisper. Old hand trembling violently from side to side, the pointed directly at Eye-patch.

“GRRAAAHHH!” A primal scream echoing throughout everything, all the light from the town was instantly devoured as pure rage boiled across the young man’s face. “Dooovvveee’s Bloood!” Livestock instantly fell dead all across town, as the young man’s scream reverberated between the buildings.

“Stop that,” the old woman’s voice was eerily calm in the darkness, completely unaffected by the waves of pure horror and fear that the young gentleman was emitting. “He’s mine.”

A long, deep sigh echoed though the darkness, as the endless waves of fear slowly subsided. “If you say so, Revered Sister.” The darkness dimmed, leaving the whole town draped in deep layers of shadow. “The rest are mine then,” the young man nodded respectfully, pointing over to the other men scattered still witless where their horses had thrown them.

Glancing over, the old woman nodded in agreement, then frowned slightly. “Not him,” she said, pointing to one of the younger riders. “He’s still budding. There’s a chance he may still become a flower and not a weed.”

“Of course, Revered Sister.” Bowing deeply, the young gentleman pointed directly at the one Granny had indicated to spare. “You shall be mine, as well,” he promised, staring hard. “I shall teach you proper so that you become a flower as Revered Sister says, instead of a wasted weed.”

Completely ignoring Eye-patch, as he casually brushed past him, the young gentleman slowly held out a hand towards the rest of the men. “Come,” he smiled coldly, “allow me to introduce you to my Mother.”

Screams of pure agony echoed out as all the shadows across town suddenly descended over the men, covering them in an darkness which voided all sight and light. For several long moments, which seemed to drag on for an eternity, the voices continued their agonized cacophony. As the sound slowly faded out, the darkness surrounding them disappeared as well, leaving nothing but ash blowing gently in the wind behind.

“You.. You old bitch!” Screaming with frustration and fear, Eye-patch tossed himself across the street, knocking the old woman down flat on her back. Quickly straddling her old body, Eye-patch stabbed the remnants of his blade deep into her chest violently and repeated. Blood sprayed down like rain, scattering all about.

“Oh! OH! Do it again! Do it again!” Laughing wildly, a small, naked woman, only about eight inches tall, with butterfly wings appeared out of nowhere. Glitter sprayed all around as she flew and flipped all about, trying to get a better view as Eye-patch repeatedly stabbed the old woman to death.

“In the eye! In the eye!” Another naked woman, looking almost identical to the first at first glace, appeared from nowhere and started laughing and cheering Eye-patch on.

“No,” yet another small winged female appeared, shaking her head from side to side. Crossing her legs as she hovered calmly in place, she pushed a small set of glasses up higher on her nose. Giving an air of dignity, she calmly intoned, “It’d be best if he set her on fire and then dropped her in acid.”

The stone street cracked and buckled as flowers and trees started to grow where drops of blood had fallen. Even more winged ones appeared, flying and cackling wildly, as they oohed and ahhed the different and wildly various plants.

“Young one,” Granny called out, her voice sounding as if she didn’t even notice the fragmented blade which relentlessly stabbed in and out of her chest, “go fetch me a dozen suitable ones to teach. This thing has angered me.”

“EEEP!” The nearest little woman flying around gave out a sudden squeal of fear, then her body fell limp and lifeless to the ground. A brilliant, colored soul, hovered in the air blinking stupidly.

“Ha ha! She scared you to death!” Pointing down at the corpse, another of the young women laughed so hard she crashed to the ground breaking several of her own bones.

“As you say, Revered Sister,” the young man politely answered, before fading away into the shadows; his new student disappearing with him.