John Marston, Freak of Nature

by Victor-Shade

John Marston, loving father, loving Husband, a Peacemaker, and Undead. One shot on how i think John's journey back home might have been and how he deals with his new self.

Breecher's Hope, 1912

I awoke.

Where am I? Why is it so cold? I can barely move. I'm trying to feel for something. I feel wet dir. I tried to open my eyes but there was a weight pushing on me. I'm moving my arms around, I can't feel anything. Now I'm frustrated. I start punching what ever it is in front of me. One of my hands makes it through. I felt the cool wind. I reached to grab something. It was a stick of some sort poking out of the ground. I pulled and got out of the dirt. I stood, breathed in and walked around to see the stick I grabbed. I stood back a bit, but regained my balance. The stick said, John Marston, died 1911, Blessed are the piece makers. I was at my Ranch. I ran for the house, as fast as I could, which was a bit faster than usual. The front door was opened. I crept inside the house. It looked like they both left, in a hurry. I went to my room. I went across the room to look at myself. I fell down. I sat on the bed, put my head down, and in a very long time, I cried. "I'm an Undead Creep."