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The sad tale of Deadeye.


Dark Alleycat
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"Me and luck ain't never been more then passin' acquaintances. My momma was creole, a singer at a bar in New Orleans, my father... well.. Momma never said. She named me Chance and I swear she did it to spite me, a reminder of what taking chances would do to you. My whole life was a run of bad luck and worse decisions. As for how I came to be here...well that’s where it would be hilarious if it were to happen to someone else. Being in the wrong place at the right time led me to make a run at a Guild payroll as it was being loaded. Two days later, in a dive hotel on the banks of the Mississippi, I met a goddess of a woman with a smile to set a man aflame. I fell hard for her,no doubt of that. I woke up that morning in her room,with the cold barrel of a Peacemaker between my eyes. Not only had she stolen my heart, she had also made off with my horse, all the loot I had stolen, even my pistols and the pants they were holstered on. Worse is that she summoned the Marshals on me. Ain't love grand?"

"So anyways, there I was shackled hand and foot on a train to Malifaux along with the rest of the convicts. Destined to live out the short remainder of my life slaving away digging soulstone out of the rocks. The trip through the Breach had set my head on fire and my guts to quiverin' like jelly. I ain't never felt anything like that,and I know I won't ever feel anything like it again. Once we arrived,there wasn't a grand tour or anything for us. They loaded us into a cart, and drove us out to the mines. Round about the time I was resolvin' myself to a horrible death in the pits, ragged gunfire erupted out of the woods, accompanied by the screams of dying horses and men. The cart shook and shuddered,falling onto its side and sending us sprawling. Right about then I hear this strange muttering behind me. I roll onto my side and see this skinny little kid, barely old enough to have peach fuzz on his chin but his eyes were glowin' a bright blue as he stares at the chains around his wrists. I ain't never seen the like, but by the time that little brat had finished talking every lock in the cart sprang open and fell to the floor."

"Now what would you do in a case like that? You would run for it wouldn't ya? Start runnin' and keep runnin' till your legs couldn't bear yer weight. So off I go,ducking the poorly aimed shots of the Gremlins that had come pouring out of the woods towards the wagons of supplies and convicts. Now, I grew up in Bayou country, so I knew a bit better then most the dangers and some of the ways to avoid them. I ran till it got dark and then crawled up in the bole of a rotted tree to wait it out. Sleep was slow in comin' though. I swear I saw something big and square movin' through the woods far enough away it was just a sense of shape and movement to my eyes. I fell asleep after a couple hours, dreamin' of better times. I wake up hung by my ankles and stripped naked with some masked freak chanting and carving lines in my chest. Now,I was raised on a farm. I know what bleedin' a pig looks like. The similarities were mildly distressing to say the least. And just when I think things aren't going to get worse,three little...creatures slip out of the woods. They looked like babies... but had knives where their hands should be, and eyes that burned like the very fires of hell. One by one they kneel in front of the creature with a mask and he pours a draught of my blood down their throats, and I swear it seemed they grew in stature as I hung there watching... though truth be told it might have been a side effect of the light-headedness and blood loss, I can't be sure."

"Just as the freak turns around, ready to gather up another, bigger draught this time, a shot rings out. The mask shatters, along with the face beneath it. Maybe lady Fate is smiling at me at last I thought... even if it is the Guild, there are better ways to die then what I was staring at. The blood and the hanging has me feeling faint, so it ain't no surprise that I pass out at this point. After all... I have had a pretty full day at this point. I wake up, face down and numb on the soggy ground of the Bayou, while a cultured voice asks behind me, the trace of an Irish brogue roughening the words 'So by the looks of your hands, you aren't a stranger to the Iron are you?' Groggy and miserable I choke out a muttered 'Ya' and its greeted with a laugh. 'Good... here is to hoping you keep that after this little bit of unpleasantness?' The large bore pistol spoke again, the bullet blasting through the back of my skull and out my left eye socket. No sooner did it start going dim,when fire exploded in my belly, and the chill of un-death flowed in behind it."

After saying this,I lean back and reach a hand up to flip up the black embroidered eye patch to reveal a cold green light resting in the shattered socket beneath it. "So that's my story kid. Still wanna see if your faster?" Across from me the young man's face pales, his eyes wide with shock and revulsion. Down the steps from the upstairs part of the brothel, his new 'acquisition' shambling behind him, Seamus's voice calls out "Now Deadeye, don't play with your food... It makes a mess. Besides... we need to be going." With that I rise, my pistols springing from their holsters as if more alive then the hands that held them. "Story times over kiddo."

Hope you all enjoyed it.

Edited by Dark Alleycat
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