(The Marston Gang)
The year is 1915, exactly one year after Jack Marston achieved his redemption against Edgar Ross. The Marston boy is now twenty years old, he recalled a moment back when he was just a young toddler and in the Van Der Linde gang… "I wanna be a gunslinger when I grow up…"
(Prologue)
It was almost at midnight, Jack Marston would be returning home as he rode through Armadillo. The man of twenty years of age had stolen the home of Edgar and Emily Ross after slaying the man in whom had killed his father. It was fairly quiet when Jack was around, in a peaceful setting over by Lake Don Julio. Jack Marston had planned to leave the country and travel to Tahiti as what Dutch Van Der Linde had wanted to do, unfortunately, it never happened. Jack was curious to how life at Tahiti would be for him, he pictured a tropical paradise as Dutch described. The way the events would turn out, getting to Tahiti would be more difficult than imagined…
A man with a black shotgun coat and a dark colored paragon town hat, rode his way through the blackness of the night on his dark shire horse. He had traveled from out of state, coming in almost the same way Dutch and his gang did. He came from beyond the Grizzlies Mountains and the man hailed from Missouri, there was something of importance about this man. He had a gang of his own, known as the BlackJacks. The BlackJack gang was unfamiliar to the region, nobody further East of Missouri heard of the gang. In his satchel, he carried two sticks of dynamite and only an Evans Repeater with him.
Now, Jack Marston drew closer. Now starting to approach MacFarlane's Ranch, it was about three hundred meters away. Jack had the money in which John Marston had, back at Beecher's Hope. He would use this money to pay his way over to California and then set sail off towards Tahiti, where he would spend the rest of his days. It was a stormy night to make matters worse, unusual for the current time of year. Lightning flashed with a boom of thunder, casting the eerie shadow of Jack and his horse onto the ground.
Jack rode the Arabian horse, the best horse breed around. He had named the horse "Arthur" after one of the people he grew up with and a man he deemed "The best uncle ever" as a child, Jack found it unfortunate that Mr. Morgan passed away due to Tuberculosis. Yet Arthur Morgan passed away as he had wanted to, dying on a mountaintop while facing the sunrise. Jack had trained this Arabian horse ever since it was born, coincidentally though, as Arthur Morgan died once the sun risen, this horse was born as the sun was rising.
The man from Missouri had arrived at the home of Jack Marston, Beecher's Hope. The man looked around as lightning flashed, casting a silhouette of a tree uptop a hill in which wasn't too far away from where he stood. He observed the surroundings as the area known as Tall Trees, stood behind him. He noticed two crosses on a hill close to the house, he was curious and approached them.
"John Marston...Abigail Marston." The man said as he read the names on the crosses out loud, he noticed that there was only one lonely house all by itself in a valley in which was overlooked by a few medium sized hills.
There was a silo and a barn, including a few horses and sheep. The man thought to himself that this was Marston land, a wicked thought then came through his mind. He took the two sticks of dynamite and marched over towards the house.
"This is BlackJack territory now." The man said to himself as he kicked down the front door, he placed one stick bundle of dynamite into the fireplace, the fire wasn't lit up. He then walked out of the doors, the front doors, and looked all around. He watched as lightning flashed and listened as thunder roared in the sky.
Suddenly, lightning flashed on the ground somewhat close by. Igniting a fire as it struck a tree, tall grass had grown up quite a bit near to the house. The wind was picking up and almost knocked the hat off of the man, he walked over to the silo and placed the dynamite onto the front doors. The lightning had struck a tree about ten feet away from the silo, if the wind continued to blow. The fire would spread from the tree and all through the tall grass, eventually igniting the dynamite on the front doors of the silo. The newly formed fire caused by the explosion would result in the fires spreading more quickly, this would start to burn the house to pieces and thus it would ignite the dynamite within the house.
That would be the plan of the man, however, the fires weren't spreading as quick as he had imagined and wanted. So he shot the dynamite on the silo from afar, creating a loud explosive bang as a decent sized chunk was blown out of the bottom of the silo.
A fireball shot out of the bottom of the silo and it ate away at the tall grass, some of the fire reached out to the tree and it would speed up the process of burning it down. The wind blew viciously and the fires crawled from one tall blade of grass to another, this man the BlackJack leader smile, but he wasn't done yet. He marched towards the front doors of the house and looked inside, he took his Evans Repeater and aimed at the stick bundle of dynamite. Bang! The dynamite created a fireball in which destroyed the whole living room, the fire spread from the destroyed part of the house and ate its way into the kitchen. The man began to walk away now, he approached his Shire horse and hopped on. The horse was named "The Midnight Express," and the BlackJack leader ran away on the horse.
A couple of minutes later, Jack Marston had arrived. He seen a strange glow of a fiery ember from afar as he got closer and closer, now he stood up top the hill in which overlooked the whole ranch. His heart jumped into his throat once he saw his old home burning before his eyes, his whole house was engulfed in flames, and there was nothing he could do about it. Jack knew that the thunderstorm was bad this night but he knew lightning could not be the cause, his silo was on the edge of collapse and the house was an inferno. Something then came into his mind that enraged him.
"The money. The damn money!" Jack cried, he rushed down towards the house and he collapsed to his knees in pure shock. He placed his hands on his head and huffed out a couple of times, sounding like he was about to cry.
"Shit!" Jack exclaimed, all of the money he would use to get to California and then Tahiti was gone now. He began to ponder what he could do in order to get enough money, all roads of thought went to robbery.
His mother, Abigail, always scolded and admonished him for wanting to be like his father and to be like his old gang members in which he looked up to as aunts and uncles. He wanted to be like his hero, Arthur Morgan and to be like his father, John Marston. Jack loved his mother but he was determined to leave the country no matter the cost and against all oppositions.
Now Jack was not going to resort to crime just yet, he would be a brawler. He had heard of the fight scene over in Saint Denis, he figured he would fight his way up to the top to earn some money. Wasn't too much crime but he wanted to get it in any other way and then resort to fame to build up a gang of his own. He looked up at his horse, Arthur, on the hilltop and smiled.
"Let's ride." Jack said in a serious tone as he marched back up the hill and climbed onto the back of the Arabian horse. Arthur reared up and neighed loudly as Jack ushered him to ride out and down the path, the silhouette overlooking Beecher's Hope in the moonlight.
As for the other man, the leader of the BlackJack gang, he was making his way towards Blackwater. Now the BlackJacks was not a small gang, it was massive. You could probably consider it a small army, the FBI proved to be worthy against the massive gang and it caused them to move further East. Nobody followed them through the Grizzlies, the leader of the gang dispatched himself to travel across the mountains and make his way down into West Elizabeth to find some new land with the gang.
Nobody in West Elizabeth, New Austin, Lemoyne, and Ambarino, knew of the BlackJacks. Some folks have heard stories of them at the height of 1907 but none knew that they would show up in the territory East of the Grizzlies. Key leaders of the BlackJacks were: Douglas Mulligan, Nicholas Lanza, Gabriel Jordan, Audrey Heath, and Molly Belle, just to name a few. Douglas Mulligan was the chief leader and Nicholas Lanza was second in command of the gang. The gang was known for wearing all black clothing and always having dark colored horses, these horses were large and muscular like a Shire horse for example. The African American men and women in the gang wore dark clothing too and wore usually white or red bands on their clothing to distinguish them from the white men and women.
As a matter of fact, the African American members of the massive gang were more of stealth. Their dark colored skin and clothing made them well hidden in the night and they could camouflage themselves in dark spots in the forest or shrubbery. The BlackJacks had a simple but effective logo, it was an ace of spades with a skull in the center, the skull had a devious grin and had a black top hat and the top hat had a white band around the bottom with a red diamond in the center. A gang member would leave behind a card with the gang's logo on it after they had robbed a bank or done a deed.
The gang had no specification in whom they were, sometimes they robbed, sometimes they killed, sometimes they sided with police with disguises on, sometimes they acted as bounty hunters. Their unknown designation in society made them a mystery among the people, everybody knew where the Van Der Linde gang stood in society but the BlackJacks was a gang that nobody knew where they stood. Their impact would surely be felt over the course of the year..
(Chapter 1: Jack The Brawler)
A building had been made for brawling out in Saint Denis, it was once a warehouse back in 1899 when the Van Der Linde Gang was at the peak and the begin of the downfall. The warehouse was closed down in 1911 and it was reopened as a brawling arena, the undefeated champion was Bill Pierce and he came from Canada to escape from the harsh cold weather from up North. He was originally born in Texas, but he migrated North with his family. He stayed in Texas until he was at the age of nine years and he liked the warm weather and he disdained the cold.
Jack Marston had made it into Saint Denis after a decent ride from his home in West Elizabeth all over into the city, he walked amongst the streets on horseback and looked at every building. He remembered this area, he remembered being with Angelo Bronte as a small toddler and ever since he discovered that he was kidnapped for the wrong reasons, he never returned. However, Jack needed money and he wanted to travel out of America as it rapidly grew in terms of civilizations and society.
As Marston trotted down the streets on his horse, he heard a loud noise in which sounded like shattering glass. Jack quickly hitched his horse to a post nearby and made his way over to where he heard the noise from, after about one minute of walking. He noticed a window in which had been shattered to tiny shards of glass, a body was laying out on the sidewalk and was bleeding from where his head had been hit from the shards getting lodged in his head, the man was knocked out and Jack could hear lots of commotion from within the building. This place had to be the brawling pit.
Jack walked over towards the front doors and made his way inside, he could hear people cheering and screaming through the walls as he entered it. He looked up on the wall before him, there was a paper in which said "Undefeated Champion: Bill "Apex Predator" Pierce!" This brought a grin to his face. He wondered how much money he would earn if he broke the streak of Bill Pierce, he knew he would have to go up the ranks. He turned to the right and walked a couple of feet before entering a door, there was a bar to his left and restrooms to the right of him. At his front, was an oval shaped arena. It looked like the seating in total could hold around ninety people, the venue wasn't large at all. Wasn't even medium sized, the crowd was enjoying the show that the fighters were putting on though.
"This night is a special night alright, who would like to step up and possibly become the champion of the Saint Denis fighting pit!?" An announcer asked as he stepped into the middle of the fighting pit, Jack was quick to answer.
"Hey!" Jack called out, the crowd and the announcer looked at him for a few seconds. "I am here to fight, I'll take on anyone!" He continued to say, the whole crowd laughed. Jack didn't look like much of a fighter, he looked more like an outlaw with the way he was built and clothed.
"Come on everyone, how about we give this unknown outlaw a chance?" The announcer asked the crowd, Jack was infuriated by the nickname he was given.
"I am no damn outlaw, I need the money to leave this place. To leave America, to escape the expanding government rule." Jack retorted in a sharp tone of voice, getting the crowd and announcer to silence.
"Well then, if money is what you want. You shall be called The Gambler." The announcer said, Jack nodded his head and stepped into the pit, placing his hat on a nearby stand.
"Your opponent will be Sam Taylor, a two year veteran." The announcer explained quietly to him, Jack didn't like just one opponent. He wanted more.
"Pardon me sir, but I want another opponent. I wanna raise the stakes." Jack chimed in, the announcer looked baffled and he gave Jack an unimpressed scowl.
"Well, the cocky shit is going to get what he wants. Enter, Sam Taylor, and Isaiah Brown!" The announcer screamed in frustration, the two veteran fighters entered the arena through nearby double doors.
Jack balled up his fists, Sam Taylor seemed to have a sheep mask and Isaiah Brown was a tall and heavy set African American brute. The twenty year old gunslinger didn't have any idea of what he was doing, he would try his best. He shall do anything to get money. Sam Taylor rushed forth, trying to bring down Jack Marston. Jack quickly lunged to the side, Sam Taylor was quick and grasped onto the barricade. Isaiah Brown then charged, sending sand into the air slightly from his heavy footsteps.
Jack rushed at Isaiah, then sliding down between the big man's legs and coming out from behind him. Sam Taylor sprung off the barricade only to get caught by Brown, Jack was ready for whatever Brown was about to do. Isaiah Brown spun around, throwing Sam towards him.
Jack jumped back once he seen Sam fly off of Brown's arms, Sam Taylor crashed into the ground with a thud and a grunt of slight pain could be heard. Jack decided to strike and he kicked Sam in the side of the head like a punt kick, the kick broke through the sheep mask and hit Sam Taylor on his forehead pretty hard.
Sam growled in pain once the boot of Jack Marston connected with his forehead, Isaiah seen that Sam had missed the target. The brute growled and charged towards Jack, Jack took a step beside of Sam Taylor and that made Isaiah Brown trip over the body of the fighting veteran of two years. The crowd was booing Jack Marston so far, some were impressed with him. The announcer stood over by the stand in which Jack had placed his hat on.
"Get off me lardass!" Sam shouted at Isaiah as he went to crawl out from underneath the big man, Jack remained serious and took a few steps back. Keeping his guard raised and his eyes locked on the two downed fighters.
Sam popped out from underneath Isaiah, and quickly got back to his feet. Jack kicked at the ground and towards Isaiah's head, sand got into the overweight fighter's eyes, and caused him to roll on the ground in pain. Isaiah clawed and rubbed at his eyes viciously, trying to ease the pain in some sort of way. Jack started to feel confident in himself now.
"That's one down!" Jack screamed out in confidence, Sam Taylor snarled and charged. Springing over the downed body of Isaiah Brown and trying to do a crossbody takedown. Jack started to fall back and Sam Taylor was caught into a fallaway slam wrestling move, Sam was sent flying to the other side of the pit and into the barricade.
"Damn, he's good for a rookie." Sam growled to himself as he slowly got to his feet, placing one arm on his ribs in favor of the pain. Jack decided to not waste any time and bound towards Sam, he sent a jab towards the side of Sam's skull.
Sam's head jerked to the side and he let out a yelp of pain, he was hunched over and leaning into the barricade. Jack tried to grapple with Sam and drive his head into the ground with a DDT, the young gunslinger managed to get one arm hooked around the head and neck of Sam Taylor. The lamb masked fighter would not back down easily as he slammed his fists into the gut of Jack Marston three times in a row, Jack was forced to let go for now. Jack placed one hand on his gut before a fist slammed into his jaw, causing him to stagger backwards a few steps.
"Shit…" Jack groaned as he then grabbed his jaw in pain, Sam sprung off the barricade and was successful in downing Jack with a crossbody takedown.
For a moment, Jack didn't know where he was, but then fists rained down on him like mallets. Each fist slammed into his skull from Sam Taylor. Sam felt like he had Jack where he wanted him now, Jack quickly took a handful of sand and threw it into the eyes of Sam in order to get him off. Sam screamed out in pain and rolled off of Jack, rubbing and clawing at his eyes like a wild animal.
The crowd began to boo Jack wildly, they booed him for using dirty methods such as throwing sand into his opponent's eyes. The young gunslinger ignored them, Isaiah had just made it back to his feet and he slowly turned to face Jack. Jack balled up his fists and looked over his shoulder to see Sam Taylor scrambling up.
"Come on assholes." Jack growled as he looked at his opponents back and forth, the gunslinger then had an idea. He ran at Isaiah and jumped up, hooking his arms around his thick head into a headlock. Isaiah was around 6'8 and weighed 385 pounds, making him the biggest fighter that Saint Denis has ever seen.
Jack Marston landed onto his feet with the headlock still in, he put his weight down on Isaiah but Jack weighed a lot more lighter than Isaiah obviously. Isaiah was also much more stronger than Jack, the tall brute from Bronx drove his feet into the ground and that drove him forward. That would push Jack closer to Sam, the gunslinger growled and tightened his grip on Isaiah. Isaiah then lifted Jack into the air and charged forward, aiming to slam the gunslinger into the barricade. Sam began to rush at Isaiah, the fighting veteran was aiming to attack Jack.
Jack put his idea into motion, with him raised into the air. He stuck a foot out towards Sam, Isaiah drove him down. Causing Jack to drill Sam into the ground with both feet, stomping him into the sand. Sam had all of the wind knocked out of him right then and there, Isaiah was still up though. Once the brute slammed Jack down, Jack was on his feet. The gunslinger released the headlock and took a few steps closer towards the barricade. Isaiah wasn't wasting any time and he instantly charged towards Jack from behind, the gunslinger then took in a deep breath and time seemed to slow down. Jack was using dead eye, an ability in which slows down time and allows him to focus a lot more than he normally can.
Jack seen Isaiah charging in, he took this time to jump back and land on his bottom. He then started to breathe normally again and then time went back to normal in an instant, Isaiah crashed through the barricade. The big man took down a few spectators as he crashed into the wooden floor on the other side of the barricade, Jack smirked as the crowd silenced once more. Sam Taylor was out of the fight, and Isaiah Brown was out too.
The crowd began to cheer Jack little by little, the announcer still had a hard heart, and was not impressed. Jack looked over at the announcer, he gave him a cocky wink.
"Okay everyone, we have a winner here. The Gambler wins his first fight at the Saint Denis Fighting Pits!" The announcer cried out in fake shock and awe, Jack approached the announcer with a serious look on his face.
"Alright sir, who is next?" He asked the announcer, the announcer huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Look, you just barged right on in an announced that you were here. We don't have anything scheduled or booked for you Mr. Gambler, and tomorrow's fights are all in. You can be a spectator, you will see the undefeated champion in action." The announcer said in response, he cracked a devious grin towards the end of his sentence.
"I'll take on that champion eventually, and I will humiliate your ass and all of his fans." Jack growled as he shoved his way past the announcer.
As Jack left the Saint Denis fighting pits for the night, he began to ponder where he would live. Lake Don Julio was a far distance away from Saint Denis and he was now a fighter for the Saint Denis Fighting Pits, he then forgot about the money he was owed from his first win. He turned back around and marched into the old warehouse, he looked around for the announcer. He noticed the announcer in the distance, heading for the double doors.
"Hey! Hey you!" Jack called out as he hopped over the barricade and began to follow the announcer to the outside area or backstage, the announcer began to close the doors when Jack burst into them. The announcer was sent flying a few feet away, Jack looked down at him.
"Listen, I don't know what your name is. I am owed money, after all. The winners get paid, right?" Jack asked, the announcer laughed a bit and dug into his coat pocket. He pulled out a money clip, the total amount of money was fifty dollars. Jack nodded his head down at the announcer before leaving for good.
Jack would wake up the next morning with a stretch, he had slept in an abandoned apartment right across the street from the Fighting Pit. The gunslinger actually liked this new job of his, a brawler, fighting to earn money. Fifty dollars per win sounded like a good deal, then a thought came to his mind. He wondered just how much money the company owned, he also wondered where they stored the money. He decided it was time to find out.
Jack made his way across the street, clad in the clothing in which he inherited from his father, John Marston. Jack carried his father's revolver, he examined the building from the front. There was two windows, a broken one, and a non-broken one. The words "The Saint Denis Pit" were painted on the blank white brick wall in red, there seemed to be an alleyway beside the building. Jack walked into the alleyway and seen that there was a ladder in which lead up all the way to the top of the building.
Jack smiled, he figured that the money would be stashed in an upstairs room in the building. He hopped up and grasped onto the ladder, he pulled himself up and started to scale up the ladder. The young gunslinger wondered how easy it would be for him to get away with stealing the fortune of this company, he felt slightly nervous as this would be his first robbery. He had no gang or help, he would try his best though. Jack never learned to give up as a child, nor will he ever.
A person was watching him from below, it was a fighter and it was none other than the undefeated champion himself, Bill Pierce.
"What is this fool doing?" The champion asked himself as he watched Jack make his way to the rooftop, Bill Pierce wore his casual street clothing and then he noticed the announcer step outside of the building to call him in.
"Bill, you've gotta be prepared to defend your championship later tonight. Come on inside tough guy!" The announcer called out, Bill looked at him and then up at the roof. The announcer got suspicious and marched over to his prized champion.
"Mr. Cornwall, you've got some sort of monkey human freak climbing to the top of the building. Want me to go see what this fool is doing?" Bill asked, the announcer gasped and looked to the roof. He didn't see anyone up there.
"Sure, be sure to tell me who it is." The announcer said as he walked back inside, Bill nodded his head and made his way towards the ladder.
At the same time as the two talked, Jack walked over to a corner of the roof, and a latch happened to be there in the corner. This latch would be a rooftop entry point for the building, he grabbed the handle of the latch and pulled. Jack found that it would be harder to open than he thought, it was locked. Jack had no keys either, he was pretty much screwed until he could find a set of keys to open the latch up.
"Ah crap, I've gotta find another way inside. I need that money." Jack growled to himself, he then noticed a blurry figure emerge from the ladder out of the corner of his eye. He then looked up and seen Bill Pierce standing about twenty feet away from him on the other side of the building.
"What are you doing? You should have known that the latch needs a key." Bill asked, speaking in a more demanding tone. Jack sounded annoyed when he responded.
"Nothing personal sir, I just need the money. Can you help me get it? I'm sure you've got a key." Jack sighed as he rolled his eyes, Bill snickered to himself before making his approach towards the young gunslinger and the latch.
"Yeah, I've got a key."
Jack watched Bill as he approached, he then looked back down at the latch. He didn't know that this was Bill Pierce, he would soon figure it all out.
"Well give it here dumba.." Jack couldn't finish his sentence when he felt the equivalent of a rock smashing into the side of his head, he was knocked out instantly by the champion's right hand.
"I've got the key to your cell in backstage."
Jack would wake up hours later, he heard the blurry cheers and boos from the arena room. Jack was in a dimly lit area, he seemed to be in a cell and both arms were in shackles. He then heard the distinctive voice of the announcer from the next room, trying to rally the crowd up.
"Ladies and gentlemen of Saint Denis and the area of Bayou NWA, I welcome you all to the Saint Denis Fighting Pit, where all of the greatest fighters go head to head for the prize money of one hundred grand!"
Jack groaned at the announcer's voice but he now knew that this arena had more than Jack thought, if the prize money was one hundred grand, then the champion must be rich. The announcer wasn't done speaking though and Jack continued to listen in.
"I, Rodger Cornwall, son of the millionaire Leviticus Cornwall, give you the greatest entertainment in Saint Denis. You shall see the undefeated champion, Bill "Apex Predator" Pierce and The Gambler along with many others tonight. You will see Sam Taylor and Isaiah Brown go head to head, the main event will be Bill Pierce defending his championship against the number one contender, Lou Scherr!"
Jack was in shock, this was the son of Leviticus Cornwall, no wonder why the announcer seemed so rich. He was the son of a millionaire, Jack was even more determined to take the money now. If he could pull it off, getting to Tahiti wouldn't be so hard after all.
"The show starts within the next hour, or should I say the Pre-show. You will see The Gambler take on Rebecca McIntyre, the Irish war whore!"
Jack raised an eyebrow, he would be fighting a woman. Now he swore to never lay his hands on a woman unless they really asked for it, he balled up his fists. To make matters even worse, he was on the pre-show within the next hour. He heard the crowd cheer and could hear other people talking in the other rooms close by.
"Cornwall, I implore you to set me free from these chains! Who is the scumbag that locked me in this cell, I'll sue your entire company you son of a…" Jack was interrupted when the announcer, whose name was revealed to be Rodger Cornwall, entered the room with the cell.
"Good luck suing me boy, I've got all the money I want and need. The society has my back, the government supports the rich and rats out the poor. You are here for money, you will fight under my company and you will receive my money. I like those fancy words you used, you implore me eh?"
"Yes, I implore you to set me free. You are blood of Leviticus Cornwall, you inherited all that money into your own. You have more than you need you cash hog, just lend me some thousand dollars and I will be on my way to a tropical paradise in Tahiti!" Jack cried out, Rodger laughed loudly and then responded.
"Tahiti? You'll have to travel all the way to California and then pay some more shit off. Then you'll need to pay even more for the trip to Tahiti, and also, I'd rather be protected by the government with all of my money than lend it to anyone. You have more mouth than a bull has a big ass, you're not better than me,Gambler."
Suddenly, Jack began to snicker manically and looked up at the millionaire with a devious grin.
"I'm not better than you? I am Jack Marston, son of the late great John Marston. Ever heard of the Van Der Linde gang?"
Cornwall's face turned from a devious arrogant look to a shocked and angered one, he held a Marston as prisoner and he didn't even know it.
"Wait a minute, Van Der Linde…" Rodger Cornwall said in fear and shock.
"That's right, Dutch Van Der Linde. The man who shot your father right in the skull, all of those years ago. I was just a little boy then, my father was in the gang. I've lost my father, you've lost yours. So I'd say we are even Mr. Cornwall." Jack said with a devious smirk.
Jack had instilled great anger within Rodger Cornwall, the millionaire thought for a minute and then a wicked smirk came upon his face.
"Alright Mr. Marston, tonight you will face off against our best female fighter. Rebecca McIntyre, the war whore of Dublin. I'll be making it a deathmatch, prepare yourself for your demise. Your legacy shall not be as great as the Van Der Linde gang or John Marston's legacy, you shall be put down before you even have the chance to make an impact in my empire of fame."
Jack now felt slightly nervous, he always had time for an arrogant and smart ass response. Arthur Morgan was known for his smart ass attitude, the influence could clearly be seen in how Jack spoke.
"Of course my legacy isn't going to be like that of the gang or my father's, I will carve my own path. Everybody is different, it seems that you've got your head so far up your own ass that you cannot see through it. Your cock gets hard for all the money you earn, money means everything to you doesn't it Cornwall?"
"Shut your fucking mouth, Marston!" Rodger Cornwall snapped, Jack snickered. Jack knew he was pissing off the millionaire before his very eyes.
"Your empire of fame will come to an end and I swear before I fall from this world, that money will be mine. Saint Denis will be plagued one day, you shall watch as your fortune goes to Hell and what will your father think. You're just like your old man, always one for the money, and fame, and fortune. You're nothing but your daddy's bitch." Jack Marston spoke, keeping his smart responses and only pissing Cornwall off more.
"Those are some fine final words, I can't wait for Rebecca to silence your dirty mouth as she slits your throat within one hour. Save your time while you can." Cornwall said in anger as he stormed out of the room.
A/N: Hello everyone, I am taking a break from writing my Godzilla series and wanting to work on something new for a while. I call this, Red Dead Expansion. I take my imagination and put it into stories for events in the Red Dead series, please know that there may be some mistakes as I am a very young writer on here. Please leave a review, let me know on things I can improve. Or just leave a review on how you like it so far.