Chapter Text
The saloon is filled with the constant ambiance of drunken drivel and slurred arguments over games of poker. Its rustic wooden walls are littered with an assortment of pictures and posters hastily hung around the room. The wooden tables dotting the expanse are numerous, leaving little room for movement but ensuring a place for most patrons to sit.
A tall, brown haired woman stands behind the bar, rolling her eyes at rugged mens advances as they quaff their liquor with sweaty brows and rosy cheeks. She’s worked here for most of her life and has long since grown used to the antics of her customers despite how unwelcome they may be. After all, no one wants to buy liquor from a bartender who is impolite and obtuse.
The air is humid and hot, sweaty clothes sticking to skin, sweat dripping off foreheads.
It's the hottest it's been in months, due to the recent heatwave and no one is very happy about it, nor are they adequately equipped to deal with the consequences of it.
The wooden walls of the tavern provide the bare minimum of refuge from the blazing desert sun, though it does little to stop the persistent heat that radiates throughout the land.
With the burning sun at its highest, no one dares set foot out of the shade for fear of dropping dead on the spot. So, those with no home to retreat to find themselves drowning their suffering in lukewarm liquor and playing cards slick with sweat. Although it does nothing to cool them off it at least tears their minds from the blistering heat, the delightful fuzz of alcohol providing an adequate distraction from their discomfort.
All eyes are drawn to the wooden door sitting at the front of the tavern as it swings open, disturbing the not quite peaceful but at least comfortable atmosphere. The hum of conversation quiets as the resounding click of heeled boots echoes across the room, striding smoothly towards the bar toward the bar.
A tanned face obscured by a wide brimmed leather hat, pulled low enough to cover its eyes but still reveal a smirk of crooked yellow teeth and chapped lips. Its lanky figure is cloaked by a long leather coat with a high neck to protect from the sun's unyielding rays, a loose button up shirt lays beneath it. The fabrics' previously pearly white colour faded into a dusty beige presumably from days of travel in the sandy environment of the west.
The barmaid smiles up at her customer with a practiced ease, fruitlessly attempting to flatten her frizzing hair. Bracing herself for the conversation with the stranger before her, unsure what to expect from this enigmatic figure.
“Hello there, welcome to the Rusty Barrel saloon, what can I get for ya’ today?”
A loud screech resonates throughout the tavern as the figure pulls out a rusted stool from the bar and plops onto it heavily.
The barmaid taps her finger on the bar uncomfortably when she gets no response.
“Excuse me mister, is there anything you would like?” She tries again. “We have a variety of options if you would like to take a look at our menu…”
She trails off when she is yet again met with no response.
All eyes remain on the stranger sitting at the bar, tracking its every movement with apprehension. The stranger continues to smirk, seemingly drinking in the atmosphere with gleeful mirth, before reaching a hand into its coat.
The reaction is almost immediate, patrons tenseing in preparation to run, others placing a hand on their weapons. But the unease dissipates when a single gold coin is removed from within the figure’s coat and placed on the bar. The barmaid smiles, an uneasy chuckle slipping from her mouth as she gingerly picks up the coin.
“I'll have a whiskey”
The woman startles at the gravelly voice that seems to echo through the room, before quickly composing herself.
“Yes o’course, i'll get ya one right away”
The figure grabs her arm as the woman turns away, the room tenses once more.
“Get it from the storage.” It grunts in a tone low enough that one would guess it meant to speak quietly, yet did not quite know how to do such a thing.
The woman's expression falters into a look of confusion before returning to its constant polite smile.
“Right away mister” She nods and hurries through a door at the back of the room, disappearing into the dark corridor behind it.
As the woman vanishes from sight, The figure's smirk returns. It spins in its chair to face the rest of the room which continues to stare at it warily.
In one swift motion it draws back its leather coat to reveal a black pistol with ornate gold engravings on the sides. With a tilt of its head, a pair of sharp golden eyes are revealed to the room. It huffs out a short chuckle at the reaction of the people in the room, as they jolt back in fear, drawing weapons of their own.
Slowly, like a predator prowling toward its prey, it makes its way towards the centre of the saloon, unbothered by the weapons aimed to kill. In an exuberant gesture it lifts its hands to the sky, tilting its head back in worship of something no one else could see.
“Thank the gods for this haven from the heat, gathered y’all here for me” The strangers mouth is wide with unadulterated malice “Just in time for lunch’”
Without so much as a gunshot, the room is filled with the thumping of bodies falling to the floor in tandem.
A shriek of primal horror shatters the silence the room has fallen into, as the woman steps back into the room only to be greeted by the grisly sight of numerous rotting corpses of the dead and decaying.
With her apron over her nose and mouth to block out the revolting stench, she sprints out the door into the blazing heat. The previous safe haven is no longer better than the dangers of the blazing sun. Tears stream down her face as she wails nonsense into the sweltering heat of the deserted midday town square, screaming for someone, anyone to help.
From within the shadows between houses, shrouded in the shade, a pearly white grin glitters despite the darkness, golden eyes glinting with a twisted sort of amusement. It licks its lips, feeling more satisfied than it has in days.
Of course it did, who wouldn't feel full after such a hearty meal.