Doctor Jonathan Brooks walked out of the Black Stag bar. His hands were soaked with the blood of the patients he had just treated.
"And remember Joe, avoid them beer bottles! I can't stitch up all of yer skull if you shatter it!" He looked back and smiled. Joe and the other barflies waved their hands. A minor scuffle. Probably the first since... well, Jonathan wasn't gonna think about him.
The Doctor made his way toward his Sister's homestead. He had been staying there since he arrived in Spencer. The full moon kept the enough light for him to find his way. He knew the way like the back of his hand. Then his foot slipped. It dug down deep and threw him to the ground. The doctor landed face down a pool of blood.
He didn't have time to scream when McCraw sliced off his head.
"McCraw's dead. It can't be him, Jim." Sheriff Coates sighed.
"Sheriff, the entire homestead burned down to the ground. And all of the Brooks were sliced up- Who else would do something so nasty?" Jim Fulsom stood and
"I don't know-" The sheriff winced. No evidence except for the entire Brooks family being sliced into over hundred pieces.
“Sheriff Coates!” Diana Cash was at the door to the Jail. Cash was a older woman and managed the girls that worked above the Black Stag. She and those women were prostitutes -and yes, sinners too- but they also had been newest to town. Fresh faces were a pleasant sight, regardless of occupation. “The Black Stag- my god- its-”
The sheriff didn't bother to ask. He and Jim ran furiously across the street. He and Jim open their jaws in horror when they stepped into the Black Stag. Eight young women hung naked by their own hair. Five or so men had been tossed on the floor in parts. The men were dead. It took the Sheriff a second to realize what was happening.
“My god, their still alive!” The Sheriff rushed out to grab and try to cut one of them down. A bony fist knocked him away.
“Aww shucks Sheriff. I'll share my toys when I'm done.” The voice echoed with shadows and the noon sun seemed to back away from it. It carried frost. A hate-filled frost.
“No.” The Sheriff pulled out his pistol. He stepped back “Fuck no.”
“Fuck yes.” McCraw chuckled.
28.10.09
Dead Man Walking: A Halloween Short Story part one
It was the sixth time that entire town of Spencer, Montana, stepped out into the center of town to watch it. The attempted hanging. Justice, due process trying to work. They gathered for the macrabre entertainment being prepped for the day. Most of the town was thinking the same thing as the Sheriff was thinking.
This time, dear God, please let it stick.
The past two years in Spencer had been horrible, slashing times. The laughing man being drug onto the gallows had mutilated and burned his way across the county. The remote mining town felt McCraw's hissing deathly ways. Spencer had once held over two hundred men and women in his number. McCraw slew and blew his way through. He raped and cut them all down, scaring off those who didn't had the heart- the madness- to stay. No, the seventy people who remained hoped that the hanging today would make an end to the last two years.
The sheriff's eyes narrowed a the big grin of McCraw. The hairless criminal had laughed at each of his hangings. He didn't fight when the Sheriff tried to arrest him, once the town had learned who had been behind all the killings and brutalities. He admitted to it all, even showing a collection of skulls he'd sleep on at night.
"Y'all look mighty fine today," McCraw's licked his lips, a drool of hunger dibbling down his chin. "Thanks fer comin' out agin."
"Shutup Bill," The Sheriff stepped onto the gallows after the criminal. He put the noose around McCraw's neck.
"Just helpin' set the mood, Sheriff." McCraw's eyes didn't blink. Why did they never blink?
The Sheriff looked away to the crowd of the townspeople. They looked like he felt. Scared. Cold. Emerging to the front of the crowd, causing some of them to move away, was Spencer's own bizarre pariah.
Lady Soteira stood in her plain black dress. The young woman hadn't come to any of the prior hangings. The pale-skinned woman who lived on her tiny farm- what she grew or why she ever bothered coming into town- never had complained of any problems from McCraw's long list of atrocities. To be honest, even the Sheriff had hoped it was her that had been doing it all. The woman was creepy, beautiful, and if the rumors were true, a witch who had come to Spencer to hide her sorceries. I've got no authority over rumor or magic, Sheriff Coates thought, but her being here makes this hanging all the more scary.
“Fuck, Sheriff,” The chuckle of McCraw's hoarse voice broke the Sheriff's reverie. “Them folks wanna see me hang. Do I gotta wait fer my time to die? Hey, Missus Brooks!”
A older woman in the crowd backed away from McCraw's voice. She clutched tightly to her son. Mrs Brooks had tears forming in her eyes.
“C'mon, Missus Brooks. I know yer eager fer the show- hey, like that show I gave yah the night yer husband died. Remember? Remember how I made yah promise to never tell?” McCraw drool and dark spit flew as he spoke. His mouth flapped like wolf ripping into and bitting into dead prey. “How you offered yer son-”
“Dammit, shutup,” The Sheriff growled. He pulled the lever and trap dropped out. The rope went sharp and tight.
McCraw wobbled and dropped. He didn't struggle. The murderer swayed in the cold wind. A minute past. His unblinking eyes stared out.
Coates walked over McCraw's body. The bastard still was drooling. His mouth flapped open. A whisper hissed out. “Sarah was tasty-”
McCraw's voice ended when Coates slid his knife into his throat.
No one in the crowd responded. They all departed, everyone smiling in relief. Except for two of them.
Lady Soteira still watched. And Sheriff Coates looked at McCraw with disgust.
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