Fan Fiction ❯ Dead End Walt ❯ One-Shot

Dead End Walt

By: Jennifer Bratcher

Mark Jacobs listened to the piano playing in the background. He managed not to flinch when the old man

playing skipped a key or accidently hit all the keys with his arm. He leaned over and spit in the cuspidor beside him. The oil lamps were dimmed by the blue cigar smoke floating around the room.

He looked over as he wiped a glass at the large, round table. Six cowboys and one small, pale and slender man dressed in a flashy red jacket held cards in their hands. Four of the cowboys were scowling, the other two were smiling, and the man in the red jacket was impassive. He watched as the gambler laid down a royal flush on the table. The six cowboys let out a string of curses as they threw down their hands and as the gambler pulled the pot to himself.

Mark's one good eye shifted over to another table where a lone gunman drank a whisky, a jaded whore dressed in stark scarlet on his lap. He watched as the whore ran her fingers through his thick hair as he looked at the whisky. Almost as if he knew Mark was watching, he looked up at the bartender with sharp, green eyes in his tanned, rugged face. Mark swallowed and looked away.

Dead End Walt was a miner's town located in the Serria Nevada range. It sprung up over night and the silver miners still managed to find themselves here. You'd get an occasional man who could find a silver nugget the size of their fist, but most of them just spent the silver dust they found on the liquor that Mark served here. Occasionally, he'd also get the occasional bounty hunter or gunslinger, like the man sitting and sipping his whisky.

"So, how's everything going tonight, Mark?" a husky voice purred beside him.

Mark smiled and turned around to see the madam of the brothel that was located above his saloon. He would attract people because Madam Lorane's girls and get money for the drinks they would buy. Besides, Lorane was one swell woman.

She was in her forties, her long, blond hair still as blond as ever. Her features were handsome and not as careworn as some of the other girls and she had a pair of brown eyes that could send the most jaded miner packing. She leaned over, flapping her jet-incrusted fan against her robust features.

He smiled and would have tipped his hat if he'd been wearing it. He answered, "Just dandy, Miz Lorane."

"I wonder who that is," Lorane commented. She whipped her closed fan to the door and Mark looked over. The bar felt silent as if some force held it in place as the doors swung open.

In strode in a tall, slender figure dressed in a black duster. When the duster moved, Mark could clearly see that the person wearing it was female. Her slender body was incased in a pair of black slacks and a black shirt. She had a Colt Peacemaker on her hip, set for a quick draw. She reached up with an almost delicate hand and took off her black hat.

There was a chorus of sighs as the long, golden hair spilled down her back. She ran her fingers through her hair and looked around. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman that Mark had ever seen.

She was tall that was a problem, but she was wonderful. She had the most sinfully long pair of legs that he'd ever seen, encased in those black slacks of hers. Her golden hair hung lankly down her face as she looked at them with her sculpted features. She walked over to the bar as if she was in total control over everything.

Except that Dead Eye Doc had something to say about it.

Dead Eye Doc was missing his left eye and wore a patch over it. A nasty scar cut from his left eyebrow to the right corner of his mouth. Doc told everyone that he'd gotten the scar from an Apache about fifteen years ago. He looked the blond woman over and grabbed her wrist.

His tongue ran over his grimy lips as he looked at her. She gave him an annoyed glance and started to walk away again. He yanked her to him, sending her toppling onto his lap. He smiled and rasped, "Why don't you stay with me for a while, pretty lady?"

She raised a delicate eyebrow and replied, "No thanks, old timer."

"Are you saying you don't want me?" he hissed at her, rasing his hand.

She made no move to get off of him. She simply smiled and answered, "If you want me to be blunt, then yes." Mark swallowed. Her accent was something that he never heard before. This whole woman was a mystery. A beautiful, wonderful mystery.

He raised his hand to hit her and she caught it before he could bring the blow down. She held his wrist as he struggled to get away from her. He couldn't. She simply stood up, pushing down on his wrist.

He shouted in pain and cursed as he fumbled for his own gun. She was faster and pulled it out of his holster. She pointed it easily at his groin. For good measure, she poked him with it and his eyes widened even more as he tried to jump back, putting more pressure on his wrists. He cried out as she smiled at him.

Then, as if she was throwing out the trash, she let him go. He fell to the floor in a cursing, stumbling mess. She shrugged as she checked the gun's bullets. She quickly withdrew them from the chamber and tossed the unloaded gun on the floor. Within moments, the bullets were on the bar.

"You have a good way of handling things, sugar," Lorane drawled in her thick, southern accent.

The stranger said nothing as she looked at Mark. Mark froze under the pressure of her dark blue eyes. She said, "Make sure that these get a good home, okay." Mark waited for her to perch herself on the barstool. She didn't.

She ran her fingers through her hair, sending dust flying. She smiled at him, white teeth flashing in her pale, yet grimy face. She asked, "Any place to get a bath around here after dark?"

******

Forest was lying perfectly under the hot, soapy water. All the grime had been cleansed off of her porcelain skin and she felt better, but not up to par yet. For her to feed, she needed to be clean.

Her eyes made out the movement of the Chinese women who ran the local bath for miners. Their sloe eyes had almost bulged out of their heads when this tall, pale blond woman spoke their language and knew their customs. They almost swooned when Forest flashed them a twenty-dollar gold piece their way for the bath.

Under the water, she could hear them talk about her, this stranger. She shifted in the copper tub but did not emerge. After all, she didn't breathe and hadn't breathed for almost a thousand years. Yet, Forest did not have the feeling of being ancient that plagued her kind when they got to be her age.

She raised her head out of the water and forced her lungs to take a deep breath of air. The women smiled at her, relaxed and went on about gathering towels, washing her clothing, and bringing her fresh clothing. She laid back into the copper tub and propped her legs on the side. She sighed in contentment as the water lapped over her.

She'd been riding at breakneck speed since dark so she could get here before nine. It was hard to travel when you're a vampire, she reasoned as she inspected her milky pale skin. She watched as the women scurried away, thanking her and the like. She waited for a moment and stepped out of the water when they were gone.

She wrapped her hair in a big towel and wrapped a blanket around her body as she looked around. The copper tub was still steaming and warm. The room had another tub just like it as well as a couple of towel racks and a stove for heating water.

She toweled her hair off as best as she could. She felt the familiar pang in her body, the familiar pain that signaled that she needed blood. She brushed her hair and braided it loosely. She licked her lips as she heard the women outside, talking about their strange visitor.

She dressed in a pair of jeans, a man's black dress shirt, her gun belt and holster, and her boots. She dusted off her spurs and nodded. She couldn't use a refection to see herself, but she knew she looked presentable. After all, she was Forest. As dangerous as she was beautiful.

She thanked the women, ignoring their throbbing pulses in their necks, and walked back into the cool night. Her body was starting to ache now. It was starting to hurt to move. She licked her lips in anticipation. Who was worthy?

She saw the man whose gun she'd shoved into their groin earlier. She smiled to herself and made her way over to him. He looked at her and blinked. He pulled his gun out at her and she only smiled at him.

She reached out with to him, not with her hand, but with her mind. Just give up and follow me. I promise you something that you'll always dream about. Something that would excite you into eternity, she told him, almost laughing at the dramatic words. His one good eye went blank as he looked at her. She held out her hand and he took it.

Within moments, she guided him the dark alley beside the saloon and the abandoned sherif's office. He was smiling dumbly as he looked at her. He groaned, "You're awful pretty."

Forest licked her lips and felt her canines lengthen and throb in her mouth. She opened up her mouth and felt the sharp points indent her lip. Her whole body ached in anticipation. She looked at the miner's throat and cursed. He was filthy.

Still, she had used mind control and everything. She bit his throat. She felt her fangs puncture his skin and the blood rush out. She withdrew her fangs and began to suck. Her body tingled with awareness as she held him and drank.

His blood was tainted and she had to be careful or she'd become drunk with the alcohol that ran through his blood stream. She withdrew her mouth and sealed the wound with her tongue. She licked the blood off of her lips and fangs, careful to make shure that she rid herself of it all.

She looked at the dazed man and decided to leave him like that. She straitened up her collar and walked into the bar. She knew the looks she got when she walked in the first time, except this time she smelled fear within the crowd as well as the usual lust.

She looked around to see a tall, dark, and handsome gunslinger ignore the woman dangling off of his arm. She looked at the cheaply trussed up whore and frowned. She walked up to the gunslinger and said, "You asked for me?"

He looked up at her and smiled. His green eyes glowed in his angular face as he gestured for her to sit down. The whore grunted and spun away with a twirl of starched skirts. He licked his lips and said, "Hello, assassin."

Forest sat down and replied, "This better be good, David."

The sprite smiled, his impish nature shining through. She was afraid of him and her hand kept playing to the iron knife hidden in the lining of her pants. David was the only Fey that she'd ever dealt within all of her existence. She knew that he could kill her with just a simple movement, but yet he found her amusing and sent her to kill things that she normally wouldn't get paid to do so. So, she couldn't fault him for that.

Still, he was a Fey. A Sprite no less, a shape shifter. So, Forest had to keep her wits about her.

He took a drink of whisky and asked, "Would you like something?"

"No. It doesn't matter, I can't get drunk anyway," Forest replied with a wave of her hand. She looked at him dead on and asked again, "I don't like repeating myself, David, not even to a Fey. What do you want?"

He smiled and it was beautiful. His dark hair spilled over his dark features just so and his alert green eyes seemed to bare into everything. Forest knew how to protect herself from Fey glamor though. He was attractive, yes, but he also could rip her heart out with his bare hands without blinking.

She was about to ask him again when there was an unnerving chorus of howls that echoed through the stillness. She could fear the fear of the people around her, so thick that it was almost touchable. She swallowed and looked around again. The howls kept up, coming closer.

"Werewolves," she said with realization as she leaned back into the seat. She kicked her legs on the table. She heard the howling stop and the doors swung open as nine, burly men walked into the bar.

She felt the rush of power and the smell of fear that mingled suddenly with the smell of smoke, cheep liquor, and sex that was all ready thick in the bar. She noticed as some of the whores drew back to the bar as the nine strangers walked in.

Forest frowned and looked at the pack of werewolves as they strode into the bar. One of them reached out and grabbed one of the girls. She promptly screamed and flailed at him as he tried to give her a kiss. She watched as David froze as the werewolf over powered the girl and locked his lips with hers. She turned back to the werewolf and stood up.

She didn't pull out her gun. She simply cleared her throat. All nine werewolves, probably family members when they were human, looked at her with wild eyes. The girl gave a startled cry as the werewolf dropped her. She fell to the ground in a blaze of jade colored skirts. She looked over at Forest with wide, dark almond-shaped eyes. Forest took one look at the girl and knew that she was part Indian, at least half. The girl took off toward the bar where an older woman, their madam, folded her strong arms over the girl.

Everyone in the bar grew even more quiet as they watched each other. Forest smiled and said, "The lady obviously didn't want your attentions, flea bag."

The werewolf snarled, his brown eyes turning golden in his craggy features. Forest supposed that he was handsome, but, after all, he was a werewolf, and there fore, beneath her. His rust-colored hair fell into his eyes as he watched her. He snapped, "Who the hell are you?"

Forest inspected her hands as she answered, "How droll. Don't you know what I am?"

"Naw," he replied, spitting something onto the wood floor. Forest lifted her right eyebrow in theatrical distaste. She placed one hand on her hip and sighed.

The bartender piped up, "We don't need no trouble, McLaughlin."

McLaughlin whirled on the poor bartender and snarled, "No one asked you, barkeep."

"Well, I did. You and your kin hurt my girls for the last time," the madam snapped, walking closer to them. Her brown eyes were full of life and fire in her handsome face. She strode over to him and pointed her fan directly under his nose. "I won't have you banging up my girls no more."

McLaughlin laughed and replied, "Listen, bitch, I fuck who and when I want. Ain't my fault that your bitches aren't strong enough to take a real man."

Forest clinched her hands into fists. She looked over at David and whispered, "Rapes?"

"Yeah, the preacher's daughter, even if they don't admit it, two Indian girls, and one of Chinese washer women," David whispered back.

Forest walked over to McLaughlin and the madam. He gave her an appreciative leer as he took in her long legs and blond hair. He whistled, "Look it the little lady trying to be a man."

The madam said, "Honey, I wouldn't if I were you."

Forest smiled wickedly at her and said, "Thanks, but I'll be okay. Promise."

"Honey, you don't know what these boys can do," she warned.

Forest turned back to the werewolf and smiled again. She replied, "I do. Trust me, they just don't know about me."

The werewolf faced her and reached out to grab her. Forest moved with her lighting quickness and ended behind him. He spun around her, snarling, and tried to grab him. She smirked as she gracefully stood en pointe on her boots. That was no easy feat, she knew, but in her travels she picked up anything that made her more graceful, quicker, and even more deadly than before.

She spun in a pirouette, then turned the movement into a roundhouse kick. She heard her foot connect with his face with a satisfying smack. She landed gracefully and looked at him. He was holding his nose and she noticed that blood was trickling out of it. She smiled at him for a moment, letting her fangs peek out at him. Then she turned away, her face perfect and beautiful once again.

She walked over and sat down beside David again. The werewolves looked at her and moved closer to her. David stood up and took out his own gun. He aimed it and snapped, "Leave the lady alone." They knew what he was and snarled, turning away from them.

He sat back down as they marched out of the bar. She snapped, "I'll do it, but for no less than ten thousand in U.S. gold, David. That's a whole damned pack of those bastards."

"I figured you would. Tomorrow night's the full moon. Is that when you plan to strike?" David asked her in a thoughtful tone.

Forest shrugged and replied, "Yeah. Tomorrow's as good as any."

******

Forest looked at the clock. David had left town, saying that he was only there to show her the problem. He said something about Frisco or that manner. He'd send her the money, he promised. So, she decided to try her luck at the poker tables.

She already had a hundred dollars in front of her. She had an unfair advantage over those humans. After all, she could read their minds. It was a temptation not to, but it was so easy though. She could simply go right in and pluck the thoughts from their minds.

Her hands hadn't been that great, but she could bluff the other players out with devious smiles and playing on their own insecurities. She smiled as she won another fifteen dollars. Then she realized the worried looks on each cowboy's face. She saw glimpses of pretty girls with blond hair braided in pig tails and cotton dresses. She saw hopes of a ranch and money, which she was winning.

She bit her lip and worried it with her teeth. Dammit. Even after all of those years, she still felt guilty. She didn't hate being a vampire, but there where times were she longed to be loved and to walk into the sunlight. She'd seen many things in her travels and killed many people, but never to feed. Never to feed.

Then there were these werewolves. They'd raped four girls. Four too many for Forest. She flinched when she heard the piano player skip again. The sharp sound ground on her ears and made her want to run and hide. Or rip the person's throat out that couldn't play. She sighed as she picked at her cards.

She'd actually had a good hand. Dammit again.

She pushed all of her money into the pot. Their eyebrows rose at her gesture. She took out the Queen of Spades, King of Spades, and the Jack of Spades from her hand, leaving the Ace of Spades and the Ten of Spades in her hand. They handed her three cards and she frowned when she held the Ten of Hearts, The Queen of Hearts, and the Ten of Clubs. She laid down her hand and the cowboys hooted with contentment.

She stood up from them and walked over to the bar. She looked at the bartender and put down the one five-dollar silver piece that she'd kept. She asked, "Anything about those bastards who came in tonight?"

He looked at her with pale brown eyes. His Leg-Of-Mutton sleeves were pushed up to his arms, exposing them. His greying hair was slicked back from his face. Just your average bartender.

He smiled and said, "You sure took care of them, little lady."

"Can you tell me about them?" she asked again, leaning closer, batting her eyelashes at him. She knew even without the use of her vampiric powers her indigo eyes were compelling enough as it was. She tapped on the bar with her fingers and the bartender looked from her face to her fingers and back again.

He stuttered, "Nothing, much, missy. Sorry, but I can't." He started to push the silver coin to her. Smiling, she put her hand over his.

She told him, "Whisky, strait up." He smiled and she caught the thought, A woman after my own heart. He poured the amber liquid into a small glass and pushed it to her. She took a drink and made her way over to the piano. The old man kept fumbling with the keys, wreaking havoc on her ears.

She smiled and walked up. She could play the violin much better than the piano, but she could play than this sorry old man. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he stood up, startled. She smiled and said, "Let me play for a while, Old Timer."

She sat down with ease and flexed her fingers over the keys. Within moments, the patrons of the saloon were listing to Beethoven for, most likely, the first time. She played the Fifth with ease and when she was done, the crowed applauded. She smiled and took her drink. She sat down facing the door.

"My, talented little thing aren't you?" the madam asked from behind her.

Forest shrugged and turned back to face the woman. She answered, "I have my moments." Then she gestured to the door. She asked, "Those guys, can you tell me anything about them?"

The woman smiled and said, "My name is Lorena and I don't like those sons of bitches one bit. They hurt my girls. Bad. One of them was bleeding and sobbing in such horrible pain after one of those bastards was finished with her. I've tried saying no, but the girls need the money, saying that they can't be that bad."

"They are," Forest said sipping on her whiskey. The alcohol wouldn't affect her in any matter, but she had to keep up appearances. She preferred red wine anyway, but they didn't serve that here under any circumstances.

Lorena said, "I don't know what you are, missy, but you're tough. Still, I wouldn't recommend you fighting the McLaughlin brothers under any circumstances. I don't wanna know what they'd do to a pretty thing like you."

Forest smiled over her glass. She asked, "Do you remember when I said they are that bad?"

"Yeah," Lorena answered skeptically.

Forest grinned as she put down her glass. She replied, "Well, I'm much worse." With that, she stood up and stepped out of the bar.

******

Brothers. Well, that explains a lot. I wonder who bit them though and if they're still here, Forest thought as she stood before the McLaughlin ranch. She was hidden from them by the trees, with the three quarters' moon shining down on her. She crept closer, trying to form a plan of action.

Tomorrow night they would have to change for the entire night. There would be no being able to shift into their human form. They would be wolves and werewolves under the full moon. They were basically mindless beasts under the full moon, easier to outsmart and outwit. Still, she would be on guard simply because they were stronger and more powerful because of the moon.

She tensed up when she heard a twig break behind her. She sensed the power of one of the werewolves behind her and pulled her gun out. She didn't want to face them without her shot gun, even though she used silver bullets for the Colt. She pulled back the hammer and shifted her weight. Ballet was a wonderful thing.

The wolf from tonight was snarling down at her. He was in his beast form, the form that was part man, part wolf. He stood on two, hunched legs. His curved spine did nothing to hide the fact that he was massive. His body was covered in a russet fur. Golden eyes glowed in the darkness down at her. His mussel dripped clear saliva and flashed huge, white teeth at her. She wrinkled her nose at the feral stench of the wolf.

She snapped, "Trying again, flea bag?"

"Bitch, you'll respect me," he snarled as he lunged for her. She cursed as her gun was knocked from her hand and onto the ground. She pivoted out of the way, but his claws caught her shirt.

She snarled as she looked down at the torn fabric. She felt everything grow keener. She could see every detail in the wolf's fur as she looked at him. Her fangs lengthened and grew more sensitive.

"What the hell?" he cursed as he looked at her.

Forest was pissed. She hissed, "What, flea bag, never seen a vampire before?" She launched her self at the wolf. She drew her fingers tight to release the agent that would make her finger nails grow into sharp claws.

She rolled at the last moment, burring her talons into his skin. She felt the warm rush of his blood on her finger tips. She could smell the wildness of it in the air. She spun back around and grabbed his arms. She twisted them behind his back and held on with all of her might.

He was stronger than she was, thrashing her around as he howled in pain. Forest relaxed, letting his body take most of the impact. Enough playing with flea bag, she thought as she grabbed onto his mind. Stop! She commanded.

He didn't. Instead, he ran strait back into a tree. She grunted as her body was jolted with the impact. He did it again, and her head crashed into the oak. She tasted her own blood in her mouth and gasped. Her back was hurting.

He then started to change. She gasped and jerked back as the sound of bones crunching as they re-knit together made her stomach churn. He stood before her, fully nude and human. Then he launched himself on her.

She was surprised by the attack. She tried to spin away or grab his arm and throw him when his body impacted into hers. He held her down, but he was human now. He was strong, but not as strong as she was. Besides, she could feel his arousal of the fight and her personally against her thigh. He fumbled his hand along her breast.

She laughed at him and he froze. She wrapped her hand around his neck and lifted. She lifted him off of her as she stood up. She held him up as he gasped for air. She could smell his blood, his fear as he started to change again.

She had other plans.

She snarled as she struck. His blood gushed into her mouth in a fiery rush. She drank of him until there was nothing. His blood rushed down her throats and her wounds resealed themselves. She dropped his body and picked up her Colt.

Only silver would kill this monster. She knew the terrible sound the gun would make, but she knew she could be out of here before the other werewolves found her. She placed the gun at the back of his skull and pulled the trigger.

With the loud sound, his brains splattered on the ground. She put her gun back up and turned around. They were coming after her, all eight of them. "Shit!" she cursed as she reloaded her gun. She put it away and reached behind her.

Sheathed in the back of her belt was a silver blade. She drew the silver Bowie knife out as she felt the wolves surround her. She took a stance and held the blade with ease in front of her.

The first werewolf, in the true werewolf form, charged her from behind. She hunched up her muscles and jumped strait up. She then flipped up and thrust the blade into the creature with a grunt. His eyes widened as his dying body shifted back to his human form.

Another snarl signaled another werewolf coming at her, except as a true wolf. She tumbled out of the way, but she didn't see the other wolf, this one a beautiful blond, until her hindquarters were ripped. Forest screamed in pain as she felt the blood stream down her legs as she fell.

Her rump was ablaze with pain. It also sent her off balance. She fell to the ground with the sharp cry, "My ass!" She tried to move, but the first wolf was on her even as she healed. She could feel the muscles heal and pull themselves together. She felt flesh move and cover the bite within seconds.

The wolf closed in on her throat and Forest thrust up with the Bowie. The wolf's green eyes jerked back in its head as she plunged the blade through the wolf's skull. Immediately, the wolf started to change back into his human form as well.

Forest tumbled back in a back handspring. She landed on her feet as she looked at the remaining six wolves. Two were in their wolf forms while the other three were in their werewolf forms. She pulled out her gun and smiled.

"Fuck this," she snapped as she aimed and pulled the hammer back. One of the werewolves dropped. She repeated the action as she aimed at the other two in the half and half form. Except the wolves got smart and started to run.

Forest chased after him, sending her body into over drive. Nothing mattered, she moved almost as swiftly as the five wolves running. As she ran, she aimed and fired again. She cursed as the bullet hit a tree and not the wolf who'd been there an eye blink before.

She aimed again and smiled as she hit that wolf seconds later. She laughed, "Thought you could fight me, didn't you!" She jumped over a fallen log with an adrenaline high from the blood she had taken earlier.

She reloaded as she ran, keeping sight on one of the wolves. She aimed and fired. The wolf screamed as it fell to the ground. She kept running. She was losing sight of the two wolves!

Well, one of the werewolves crashed into her. His claws were ripping through her flesh and clothing. Forest shouted as he knocked her gun away from her. He pinned her there and his brother, perfectly nude and human, walked over to them. She screamed when she saw the oak branch in his hand.

"I heard about your kind. Wood'll killya, bitch," he hissed at her.

Forest thrashed and finally managed to get a foot hold. She twisted up, sending her legs spinning. She caught herself on her hands and flipped back up. She smiled as she aimed at the last werewolf. The bullet caught him right between the eyes.

She aimed and said, "Now your turn. You were way out classed." She fired. The hammer clicked harmlessly. "Dammit," she groaned as the guy changed as he leapt at her. The werewolf and the vampire were soon on the ground, tussling.

Forest felt each bite and each scratch he dealt on her skin. It ate at her, made her angry as she sank down and bit again. The blood was enough to give her a contact high as she drank. The musky scent was all in her nostrils as she fed off of him.

It didn't matter. She felt the wolf grow weaker and her own wounds healing. He changed into his human form and tried to pull himself off of her. She told him, No, this is for those girls. For all those people you and your brothers terrorized. She saw his human blue eyes widen in shock and horror.

Say hello to your brothers for me, okay, she requested as she shoved the Bowie knife into his chest. He jerked twice and looked down at her with empty eyes. She stood up and withdrew the bloody blade. The puncture wounds on his neck were already healing. She licked her lips and picked up her fallen Colt. She slipped it back into the quick draw holster and headed back to town.

******

Lorena was surprised as she heard a soft knocking at her window. The madam stood up, slipping into a black silk wrapper. She walked over to it to see the mysterious young woman standing there. She was torn, tattered, her clothing hung onto her slender, dancer's body in shreds. Her long blond hair was a wild tangle along her classic features.

The keen, indigo eyes brightened as the girl smiled at her. Lorena opened the window and asked, "Good God, child, what happened to you?"

She smiled and wiped her nose. Blood and dirt smeared across her milky features as she did. She answered, "The McLaughlin brothers?"

"Yes?" Lorane asked, worried for the girl.

Her smile brightened as she replied, "You and your girls don't have to worry about them any more."

"What happened?" Lorane asked the strangely beautiful girl out her window.

She smiled again, slightly manic, but beautiful none the less. She answered, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." With that, she jumped off of the window sill. Four stories above.

Lorena almost screamed when the girl fell to the ground. She gracefully, impossibly, landed. She gave a jaunty wave as she walked off.

******

The next day a group of miners found the bodies of the McLaughlin brothers near their ranch. Some of them were killed with knives while the rest were shot to death. There were signs of struggle and blood everywhere. Other than that, there was no clue to the murders except that the bullets used were silver. She never told anyone, but Lorena knew that the mysterious woman who was in town one knight had rid Dead End Walt of its problem.

London, England

Present Day

The vampire assassin known as Forest lovingly looked at the old Cold revolver in her

hands. She put the gun down in a velvet case along side a huge, silver Bowie knife. She put the glass lid over the case with a smile. The glass offered her no reflection, but she didn't need one.

A vampire was a monster by nature, but evil by choice. Forest liked to think that she was the perfect example of that. The gun and the knife were perfect reminders of this.

"Forest, what are you doing?" a young voice shouted out. Forest smiled at the vampire fledgling that climbed down the stairs into the display room. Her long wine colored hair swung around her slender body. Her bright, light green eyes looked around at distaste. The young ones were always like that, Forest realized, remembering her days under her mentor.

She answered, "Remembering, Minerva, remembering."

Minerva asked, "Why do you have those old weapons and stuff?"

Forest smiled and wrapped her arm around the sixteen-year-old girl's shoulder. Eternally sixteen, what a tragedy and a privilege that would be Forest figured as she guided her out of the display room. Forest answered, "Let me tell you a story about a pack of werewolves."

The End!

Dead End Walt was a town mentioned in the Petshop Boys' song, "East End Girls." I just thought I should

mention that.

Also, what did you think of Forest? All comments are welcome at slaybrat@aye.net.