In stepped a dark shadowy figure through the weather beaten bar doors which snapped back to their places after he passed. The combination of the bright sun at his back and the dim lighting of the bar managed to mask his face under the brim of his worn hat. He paused briefly after entering to take note of the smoke filled bar, the smell of tobacco and the characters that sat at their tables handling their whiskey and cards. After sizing them up through the haze, he made his way across the creaking wood floor, straight to the bar-keep who was cleaning off glasses behind the bar. The mysterious man leaned forward on the bar and waited for keep to look up from his cleaning.
The bar-keep, who was an old portly man, gave a slight nod to the man at his worn bar while trying to keep his composure. There was something about the dark figure put a cold lasting chill in the room. The keep had seen his fair share of bad men in his time, including the shady crowd in the bar, but something about this one made the man very weary. As he approached, the grim figure simply tapped the top of the bar for a drink but the whole time never looked up from the bar nor made a sound.
The old man quickly snatched up his cleanest shot glass off the shelf behind the bar, polished it off one last time with his towel and filled the glass to the brim with the best whiskey in the joint. Nervously he walked over to the figure sitting at his bar and carefully sat the full glass on the bar and slowly stepped away. There was a slight pause in the bar as everyone had their eye on the figure trying to see who this mysterious man was exactly. It was just a slight pause though and the bar crowd went back to their shot glasses and poker games as their curiosity wasn’t satisfied.
A loud yell came from a poker game just by the bar, “You’re not from around here” made its way to the dark figure in an arrogant and drunken slur. The wicked figure tossed his shot back and turned around tilting his head up just enough to uncover an evil grin that had spread across his face but still not making a sound. “Know how to talk or are you just stupid,” the drunken man slurred again ending with a laugh. Showing off for his friends at the table, he picked up his knife off the table and threw it at the wood floor just inches from the boots of the dark figure.
A roar of laughter came from the table but the shadow of a man had no reaction, at first that is. Before the laughter came to a halt though, the figure pulled out his black six-shooter with a speed that no one could have expected. Most of the bar hadn’t even taken notice before a shot rang out and the drunken man dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Once everyone realized what had just transpired, they turned to the sinister man who was just resting against the bar with his gun already at home in its leather holster.
An unwelcoming feeling spread accompanied by a slight feeling of panic throughout bar’s occupants which led to hands inching towards their loaded guns and hidden knives. All eyes grew as they were trying to watch everyone and everything as silence fell on the bleak bar. The wicked man still remained calmly leaned against the bar, still sporting an evil grin across his face. A rough outlaw who had been quietly sitting at a corner table with a bottle of whiskey and a prostitute on his lap would make the first move in a chaotic few minutes.
The table that the outlaw had been seated at was now lying on its side and his pistol was drawn. He was an experienced outlaw, proved by numerous scars, and he knew that things were only going to get worse. A few young and brave members of a local gang also knew this but instead of playing defense like the battle-tested outlaw, they started going guns blazing with most bullets headed towards the dark man leaned at the bar. With the gang’s move, the grim man instantly had both six-shooters out firing off rapidly. Each shot was with perfect accuracy, it was almost like the man had been born just for one reason – to kill.
Shortly after the first shot had sounded off, the local gang laid out on the floor, the few tables that had once featured poker games were covered in casings and blood and all that was left was the outlaw and the dark figure with the bar-keep ducked behind his bar. The outlaw had to plan carefully as he knew the man was a perfect shot and his proof lay across the floor of the bar in pools of blood.
“I’m only here for you”, the dark figure calmly rang out. As the words reached the outlaw’s ears, a chilling shiver went down his spine. At this moment the outlaw, who was still hidden behind his table, knew he was a dead man but he was going to make one last effort to make it out with his life. He lobbed an empty whiskey bottle he had been drinking on in a corner opposite from the front of the bar for a distraction and shot off towards the huge glass window that was at the storefront.
The dark figure gave no attention to the breaking bottle as it crashed to the floor and whipped out his pistol in his right hand firing off a single shot. A loud crashing of a body hitting a table with glasses on it filled the bar. The figure slowly crossed the bar, stepping over dead bodies, over to where the body was lying to verify that he was no longer breathing. As he made it to the man he noticed the outlaw was still alive but fading quickly. “Don’t worry, we will see each other soon my dear friend”, calmly said the dark figure who stood over the outlaw as he took his last breathe.
As the grim man turned from the slain outlaw and walked past the bodies that lay throughout the bar he noticed the bar-keep was still standing in a corner, frozen with a whiskey bottle in his hand. The man moved for his gun which made the keep jump and the figure simply said, “Not today old man…not today…”, he trailed off while covering his pistols with his long black coat. The dark shadowy figure slowly meandered out the weather beaten bar doors which snapped back to their place after he passed through, off to his next dusty old town.
