He Goes On All Fours - A Western Monster Romance

The Stranger Arrives at Graveflat

Colt paced the town of Graveflat beside his father, his boots kicking up dirt in the warm air. His hands were clasped behind his back and every now and then he would give his clenched fists a squeeze when an itch formed in his throat.

His father was an overly social man, nodding at every one who even remotely glanced his way. A large grin was plastered under that enormous gray mustache of his, and although Colt tried to replicate the look he felt like he only came of strange.

"Ah, Sheriff!" Horley walked towards an armed man, arms outspread as they welcomed each other with a firm handshake.

"Morning," a somewhat older looking man tipped his large hat, brandishing a silver badge on his leather vest. Colt always liked the look of it, as well as the revolver holstered to the man's belt. He thought it would be exhilarating fighting crime and keeping an eye out for trouble. Unfortunately for him, though, Graveflat had little to no violence. If chaos ever did arise, it was usually settled quickly.

"How's everything looking? Nothing to report?"

"No sir, everything is as clear as water." The Sheriff, whose name was Jim, proudly rested his hands on his hips as him and his friend surveyed the towns people.

"Only thing is I got complaints from some folks about a foul smell at night. Smelled like something had died but couldn't find anything. I'm sure the wind must've brought in the scent of a dead animal not too far from here. Want me and the boys to find it and push it farther away?" Jim ran a hand through his beard, knowing that Horley liked his town his to be in perfect condition. If anything was slightly off or unpleasant, the man always demanded it be dealt with.

"The sun is mighty hot today. That corpse will stink up more if the wind picks up later. " Horley pat his friends back, and the two began to discuss business matters in a hushed voice. Colt knew this meant he should probably step away and let them have their talk.

The young man plucked out a black handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the trail of sweat traveling down his cheek. He began to make his way towards the entrance of Graveflat, which was decorated with a large wooden frame that brandished the name. A few people called out to him, seemingly eager to get in good due to his status, but Colt merely gave a simple wave in response.

He was starting to feel awfully tired, and it didn't help with the sun beating down on his head. He knew he should've worn his hat that day, but he had forgotten to grab it.

Colt pressed a hand against his chest as he made his way behind an old shop, making sure no one saw him before bending over.

He fell into a coughing fit, attempting to surpass the ordeal with as much elegance and delicacy he could muster in case someone was watching him. He covered his mouth as blood began to take over his taste buds, hastily wiping away the evidence of his illness with his handkerchief. Once he felt calm enough to show his face to everyone again, a rather cold and unexpected voice captured his attention.

"You don't look too well, friend," the voice had said in an almost teasing manner, donning a thick accent.

Colt felt his heart skip a beat as he lifted his gaze to meet a pair of intense, dark eyes. He blinked a few times, trying to discern who the man was and where he had come from. He wore a leather jacket with a popped-up collar and a black hat that tipped slightly to the right. It was an attire that wasn't all too appropriate considering how hot it was. His gloved hand twirled the thin, dark mustache on top of pale lips that were curved into an eerie smirk.

The sick man felt that somehow this stranger was sick as well, for his skin was pale and there were dark circles around his eyes. Hell, he looked like he was already at Death's door.

"I'm fine," Colt lied, trying to sort himself out under the scrutinizing gaze. He didn't know what else to say to make the situation less awkward, so he began to make his way out into the open.

"I've never seen your face before," the young man began, hoping to distract the other from what he had seen. "Are you new in town?"

"That I am," the stranger replied, resting his hand on his belt. Colt noticed a weapon strapped to his side, one that was black and seemed to have an intricate gold design. He knew guns weren't allowed in Graveflat unless they were authorized by the proper authority. For a moment, Colt thought something bad was about to happen, until the other calmed his nerves.

"I'm here to meet the Sheriff. A position is soon to open, and my skills are required here."

A position? What position?

Colt didn't know the lawman was looking to hire new men, in fact he thought he had enough already. But at the end of the day, he knew as good as any to stay out of people's business unless it interfered with his father.

"Oh. Okay then. I'll take you to him if you want?"

"That'll be mighty fine." The newcomer's eyes narrowed, and for a moment an almost dark aura seemed to overtake him as he followed after the other.

"I come from a town not too far from here. Perhaps a day's journey. The place was much too quiet for my taste, but that was my own doin'. I reckon you need extra help?"

Colt tried to stifle a laugh as he shook his head, ignoring the prying, curious eyes of everyone around him.

"Sir, you'll find we are quite comfortable here. Why the Sheriff sent for you I do not know."

The man beside him plucked a cigarette from his pocket, tenderly placing it in his mouth as he lit it up with a spare match. Colt was immediately hit with a powerful, perfumery smell, and he wondered just what type of cigarette the man was smoking.

"You seem like an awfully important person." The settler smiled, inhaling the killer between his fingers. "The way people be lookin' at you. You wouldn't happen to be that Horley man, would you?"

Colt was a little confused as to how the man knew of his father, but he thought perhaps Jim had told him.

"No, sir. I'm his son."

For a moment the tall man was silent, as if digesting the information he had just been told. With a knowing nod, he exhaled the smoke and stopped in his tracks. Colt wondered what the other was up to until he noticed him looking straight at him.

There was something almost animalistic in the way his eyes glowed, and before Colt could turn away he was suddenly compelled to let the other know who he was.

"My name's Colt. Colt Townsend."

"That's a fine name you got. You can call me Ezekiel."

Ezekiel smiled, patting the younger man's shoulder as he resumed his walk towards the Sheriff. Both Jim and Horley were still going at it, only stopping when Ezekiel confronted the two with a slight tip of his hat.

Colt noticed Jim looking extremely confused for a moment, before realization suddenly crossed his face. The closer he got the more he heard, and Jim was apologizing repeatedly over how he was sorry he didn't recognize the newcomer.

"I really am sorry. Horley, I meant to discuss it with you sooner but a new position is opening soon and I sent for someone to come from White River. My family was from there. A disciplined and truly majestic town indeed."

Even Horley seemed a little baffled by the news, but nevertheless he flashed that false smile of his and outstretched a hand towards Ezekiel.

"Jim, I really wish you would tell me these things sooner. We could've given this man here a proper welcome! Do tell me next time."

Colt watched as Ezekiel and his father shook hands, locking eyes with such intensity he could feel some type of unsettling energy radiating from the two.

"Nice to meet you, Ezekiel." Horley professed in that grand, loud voice of his. "I do hope you find Graveflat to be of your liking."

Ezekiel tossed the cigarette on the floor, stamping it out with a heavy, black boot. The silver spurs attached to his shoes gently jingled amidst the quiet that had formed between them.

Colt did nothing but stare at the three men. He felt that something was strange about the whole interaction, and it wasn't hard to tell that his father was anything but displeased. Surely, he would hear a thing or two when they got back home...