GuNNhead

Kurt walks in closer to the late sheriff and gunsmith.
“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there cowboy, where do you think you’re going?” Maggie holds her gun on him. He smiles, but more gunfire comes from Season. The ladies work in tandem, and the deceased boy’s parents, now members of the undead, fall to the ground on the path from the graveyard. When they turn back to Kurt, he has the Sheriff’s gun drawn, and the key to the gunsmiths.
“Now let’s talk about this like civilized adults.”
“Who the fuck are you and what’s going on?” A voice shouts from the assembled onlookers.
“I’m Kurtis Kelvin. Your town is about to be under attack, and I don’t know why or much else than that. If you have a gun and know how to use it, shoot them in the head. We’re going to the gunsmith’s so we have a fighting chance.”

Inside the gunsmith’s, Eric is hiding. But he’s been hearing someone else already inside the house. Trying his best to be brave, he gets out of the cupboard, and picks up a gun from the workbench. He lights a lantern and inspects the gun, making sure it’s loaded. Holding both, he makes his way around the house. From the workshop’s door, there are the stairs in front of him. He hears a commotion outside, and decides to check upstairs first. Three other rooms are on this floor, the storage room is the only door on his left, across from that is the powder room, and beside that is the bedroom. All of the doors are slightly open. Being a little creeped out by the bedroom, he checks the storage room first, even though it is a little further down the hall. He opens the door, holding the lantern ahead of him with his left hand; keeping his gun is in his other hand at the ready. He then slowly enters the room, and checks behind the door to make complete sure. He goes to check the powder room, and enters and leaves using the same process, leaving both doors wide open. Just the bedroom left. He takes a deep breath, and begins to open the door. Halfway through, he sees what was making the noise. There is a person leaning over the bed. He lifts the lantern higher, and they turn around.

“M-ma Perkins?” He lowers his gun slightly. “I thought you just came to lock up? Did you need– oh, that’s some pretty bloodied gauze on your hand there, do you–”

A gunshot goes off in the distance, and she lunges at him. Startled, he tries to step back, but stumbles on a loose floorboard. Hitting the ground, his gun slams out of his hand, he hits his head on the floor, and the lantern smashes at the foot of a door. The lantern’s trajectory has unleashed its flames inside the gun powder room. Eric does not get up, he has been knocked unconscious. In seconds Ma Perkins is at his throat, biting it open with her teeth, and feasting on his flesh.

This entry was posted on July 9, 2012 at 3:33 am and is filed under Fiction, Horror, Western. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.