UGR: Scuffs on the Wall (617 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Comp
Rating: 1.81 on 14 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by goferforhire <goferforhire.at.yahoo.com> (View user info) at 2006-06-27 17:14:17 EDT
http://www.ubersite.com/m/89576
Sorry about the length.
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* 1876- 12:30 *
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The old farmer sat on a mildewed hay bale in his empty, ancient barn pawing at the bags under his eyes. The left one, the one without the cataract, was twitching like someone had taken a cattle prod to it, but it was just a mild annoyance. He swallowed hard, coughing a little bit as he breathed dust in through his nose, and flipped the safety on the pistol he held in his hand.
Eyes locked on the marks all over his wooden walls, he put the gun to his temple, sighed, and pulled the trigger without looking away.
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* 1854- 3:10 *
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Roger Blackwood carefully clambered off of his donkey's back, removed his battered old hat, and wandered into Stella's Saloon. Stella was yelling at a customer who'd managed to get himself drunk already, so he pulled up a barstool and waited his turn. Rick Colley, half-Indian and all muscle, grabbed the offending sod by the scruff of the neck and fairly literally heaved him out the door. Stella smiled as flirtatiously as she could manage with her growing crow's feet and turned her attention to her new customer.
"Usual order, Rog?" She laughed, cleaning out a tall glass and putting it in front of him.
"No, Stella. But thank you kindly. I just need to ask you a question, private-like."
"Alright, sugar. Step into the back room and I'll be with you in a tick. I just gotta put a lock on the door. It's not like I've got business besides old Rick here."
Roger waited as instructed, fiddling with the revolver his wife had bought him to take care of himself in case of trouble. He was so caught up studying the bullets that might well end up killing a man if he weren't careful, he nearly jumped five feet across the room when Stella tapped him on the shoulder.
"Aw... 'd I scare you? Sorry darlin'. What'd you wanna ask me?" Her smokey drawl calmed him.
"Listen, Stella, there's been some loud noises and weird lights comin' from the field way out past my house. Marie and the field hands think it's some kinda superstitious mumbo-jumbo or 'nother, but I know better. I need to know if there's been any talk of the Straight Lace Gang bein' back in town."
Stella looked around for a few seconds, leaned in close and whispered-
"Roger, there was a raid on the Straight Lace's Hideout. They're all dead and that's fine and dandy, but no one knows who killed all those poor black bastards. Sheriff says it wasn't him and his boys, and there's no other gangs around strong enough to pull something like that off. I'm real worried about it. I even asked Colley to walk home some of my customers that live farther out. Streets ain't safe no more."
Roger nodded sagely, and the two went back into the bar area to have a few drinks. A few drinks turned into a lot and before they knew it, the sun was nearly down and Roger needed to be heading home. Rick the bouncer got set to escort. They were nearly home when they heard a gunshot.
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* 1854- 8:25 *
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There were burning crosses on the Blackwood Farm. Rows of them, surrounded by white sheeted strangers, and before Roger could help himself he muttered "ghosts." Colley, halfway a Lakota, knew better.
"Roger, this here's the Klan. The Klan's raiding your farm."
Roger's eyes widened- his fieldhands were black, his maids Gypsies by birth, and his wife Jewish. His hand shot to his pocket and the revolver his wife had given him. Colley whipped out a shotgun he kept to deal with unrul bar customers. Panic setting in, Roger ran towards his home.
He saw with horror that most of the crosses burning to the ground had his fieldhands nailed to them, and the ones that didn't were spreading fires to his crops. The klansmen had already abandoned the crosses and moved on to his home, which was beginning to burn as well. Dashing through the rows of crucifixions, he got separated from the half-Indian bouncer. He pulled the door open, following the sound of screaming into the kitchen, where hooded men were having their way with one of his maids. There was a dead girl in the corner, dress torn and bloodied. Roger screamed blindly, eyes widened, and fired all of his bullets at the Klansmen in his kitchen. The crying gypsy's mouth worked rapidly as tears streamed down her face, forming words Roger could only barely understand. He picked her up, took her far enough from the house to keep her from burning, and dashed to the barn.
The scene froze in his head- Colley blasting three clansmen at the far wall of the barn, one of them returning fire and hitting him in the chest, dropping him, and as the body fell Roger could cleary see his wife, Rachel, nailed by her dress to the wall of the barn, her high heels digging scuffs into the old wood as she struggled against the burly hooded man pressing against her. Out of bullets, he dropped his revolver and dove for his dying friend's shotgun. He heard a gunshot and felt a searing pain in his shoulder, but he managed to pick the old weapon up, get to one knee and fire off enough rounds to drop the remaining two Klansmen. Panting and clutching his bleeding shoulder, he stumbled quickly over to his wife, let her down from the wall and kissed her on the forehead. She slapped him hard in the face.
"Kill me!" She screamed, moaned and then, crying, passed out in his arms about a minute later.
Roger carefully, quietly removed the hood on the burly klansmen that assaulted her. He saw with surprise and a bit of revulsion that the man was an albino.
Roger never found the courage to honor his wife's wish. They buried Rick outside their barn, rebuilt their home, and lived a quiet, reclusive life, going to town as much as possible. They had two more children before Rachel died.
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* 1876- 12:32 *
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Marina Carlisle dashed into the old barn, carrying her week-old child in her arms. She knew what had happened, but somehow the expectation hadn't prepared her for the sight of the old man's body bleeding in the hay.
"Oh God, dad..."
Hearing the footsteps behind her, she handed her white-haired, red-eyed baby to her husband, picked up the revolver by the old man's body, and began to weep.
User Reviews
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-09-05 13:27:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm +2ing all your posts as a sign of good faith. I just want to show that there is no animosity between us. Friends?
Submitted by DCWoody (user info) at 2006-06-30 20:04:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is quite good.
Submitted by Heimdallsman (user info) at 2006-06-29 00:24:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
So much better than mine. Well done.
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-06-28 12:21:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
What part didn't you get? Out of curiosity.
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-06-28 09:47:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I was about to give this a 0 because I didn't get it.
Then I re-read it and got it.
-Dave
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-27 20:36:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by alwayspeach1 (user info) at 2006-06-27 20:19:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:28:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
shoot em all
Submitted by BrownEyedGirrl (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:16:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good Good Good
Submitted by polymorph505 (user info) at 2006-06-27 17:46:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Anybody for a hot shower?
HOT SHOWER! HOT SHOWER! HOT SHOWER!
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-06-27 17:34:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
that's going to hurt
Submitted by sebcharrot (user info) at 2006-06-27 17:29:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Bwahahahahahahahah France beat Spain wooo!
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-06-27 17:22:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fucking-A right this deserves a plus two!!!
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-06-27 17:16:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
forgot the bloody UGR the first time.