Title: Last words.
This is an A/U... I don't own TYR..
Inspiration for this short story came from a song performed by Mumford & Sons...Dust Bowl Dance. Lyrics provided at the bottom of page...
This is my first attempt at a short story... To the gals at the plus that inspired me to try my hand at a short...you know who you are... Hugs.
The young man sat in his jail cell upon an old rusty cot, the heavy cold metal of his chains dug into the tender flesh of his wrist leaving them raw and bloody with each movement he made. The only sounds he heard as he tried to focus his attention away from the pain, was the rhythmic hammering of nails being driven into a hangman's platform, with a noose meant for him.
He could still feel the weight of the gun in his hand, the acrid smell of smoke from the weapons discharge filling his nostrils. He had stood silent and watched impassively as blood pooled around the fat Bankers head and slowly soaked into the papers that lay scattered about the dead man's desk; justice had been served.
His parents were good, hard-working, kind loving people. His father and Mother had worked day and night after the Pony Express ended to build a modest horse ranch, then in a blink of an eye it all unraveled. One day more, that was all they needed and the ranch would be theirs. They were only one day late on the very last payment of their mortgage and the fat Banker had sent out his henchmen to collect.
His father had gotten payment on the sale of some good stock horses that very morning. It was money that he had been counting on to pay the last installment of their mortgage, thus the day's delay in payment. His father had been about ready to ride into town with the money, his favorite horse saddled and ready when the henchmen rode up.
David had been in the barn mucking out stalls, when he heard his father's angry rage filled voice cut through the air and went to investigate. It was then that the shots rang out and then a woman's scream rent through the morning air. They had gunned his father down like a dog, so many shots were fired into him that his face was no longer recognizable.
The young man stood rooted to the barn door entrance as he watched in helpless horror as they fired their last remaining rounds into his beautiful mother as she tried to make her way towards her beloved husband. One bullet would have done the job, but they were cruel, evil men that enjoyed killing just for the sake of killing alone.
He remembered the bitter taste of bile that rose up in his mouth as he viewed the slaughter of his beloved parents, the henchman's laughter ringing in his ears, their words causing his blood to run cold, The ranch is now ours for the taking.
But the one thing the henchmen hadn't counted on was that he was his parent's only son and he would exact justice, they would pay for the savagery they had committed on this day.
The burial he would never forget. He was only sixteen, almost seventeen, but it was on that very day a cold empty void consumed him as a plan formed; he went and got his gun.
Tracking down the fat banker's henchmen had been easy, almost too easy, but he wouldn't kill them outright, that was too good for them. What they deserved was a slow painful death. These men would know who he was, why they were dying and know what it was like suffer in total abject pain and fear with no one to hear their cries and pleas for help.
But the fat Banker, now he was another story. That man was the real murder of his parents, his henchmen were nothing more than lemmings carrying out his orders. Nobody else would dare do it, but justice needed to be served on the Banker; and it was.
It was easy, really. The way the young man looked that day as he strode into the bank; no one dared stop him. He stealthily walked up to the Bank owners door, opened it and shut the office door behind him and silently stepped into the room.
The Bank owner didn't even bother to look up from his work as he demanded to know what he was doing in his office.
David remembered his exact words to the fat man sitting behind the desk.
"You took something from me."
The banker heaved an irritated sigh, he hated being bothered by trivial stupid matters and this man standing before him, sullying his office was a trivial stupid matter.
"What did I take from you, boy, that gives you the right to enter my office unannounced?" Slowly setting his ink pen down, he looked at the man who had dared disturb him and all the color drained from the fat man's face as he stared into the barrel of a loaded gun.
"You don't know me, do you? Of course not. You don't even remember my parent's, you weren't there to hear their dying screams," The young man snarled. "But you took away something very valuable to me; you took away my home, and my parents. You had them killed, you and your henchmen, so even if you don't know me, know this; I was their only son, and you are going to pay for what you've done." David bore his words along with his dark eyes into the man as he slowly cocked the gun he held in his hand and level at the Bankers chest.
He searched those watery blue eyes for signs of remorse, but there were none. The only thing that shone out of the Banker's eyes was fear that his life was about to end, there was no sorrow nor remorse for what he had done, no apology. In that moment David pulled the trigger; Justice was served.
Men were barking out instructions as the steady beating of hammers into wood continued to be heard in his small dark jail cell. David sat with his eyes closed, remembering his parents and the happy times they had shared. Soon, very soon they would be together; tomorrow was a good day to die, he thought to himself, knowing he had meted out justice. The fat Banker man, nor his henchmen would never rip apart another family again.
Early morning light filtered into the young man's cell, a new day was beginning.
He hadn't slept, he didn't want to waste the hours left of his life, soon he would sleep. The only sound he could hear in the dawn light, was the sound of skeleton keys rattling on a large chain as the town's Marshal worked the needed key into the cell door's lock.
The Marshal led the stoic young man out of his cell and into the street towards the waiting hangman's noose. As they reached the stairs of the platform, the Lawman stopped and turned to look one last time upon the handsome young man he had known since he was a wee little babe, resting in his mother's arms.
"Your parents were good folk, they didn't deserve what happened to them..." He paused for a moment, "Neither do you, David, you are a good man, an honest man. But the law is the law, no matter how unjust it seems at time."
David, nodded at the Marshal and started his slow ascent up the platform stairs; the hangman and his noose were waiting, there was no one to save him.
The thick coarse rope was roughly placed around his neck as he stood tall and gazed out upon the gathering crowd.
"Any last words you wish to say, David? Now is the time," The hangman ordered.
David gazed at the hangman with his cold dark eyes then back at the crowd, and stood to his full commanding height.
"I am the only son of my father, Running Buck Cross. The men I killed, I did to avenge the blood of my parents. I witnessed their slaughter, my mother and father were killed without cause by this town's Banker and the henchmen he hired. He took our home. I have no regrets over what I have done, my parents' spirits can now rest free at last."
David Cross stood taller and prouder than any Kiowa Warrior his beloved father ever told him about as he uttered his final words,"I die today proud, not in shame as I return to my family."
Those were the last words David Cross utter in this world as the hangman cinched the noose tight. It was so tight about his throat David couldn't swallow as the cord bit into his smooth tender flesh. Next came the hood, nothing more than an old dank musty burlap sack thrust over his head that cast him into a world of bleak darkness.
David steadied his breathing, and prayed like his father had taught him long ago. Today he would die proud, he was the son of Running Buck Cross! As the hood came over his head, he thought of his mother, his beautiful dark-haired mother and her sweet melodic voice singing to him when he was young, with a smile to rival the sun. She was singing to him now, and smiling.
It was but a moment later that he heard the lever give way and the floor dropped out from beneath him as the thick rope cord around his neck quickly snapped tight.
Okay...This isn't my usual type of story content... I love writing warm and fuzzy or loved filled heart wrenching angst.. ...
I had some qualms about writing this story...although I know it was never a story I could have taken all the way, with graphics...so I left some/much to the readers imagination...and I was going for a short story.
That the story begins with not knowing who the young man was.. well I was trying out something new,... writing where the reader is left wondering/ guessing at first. Don't know if I accomplished my purpose but...well I gave it a first shot.
I want to thank the gals at the plus and Ranch for constantly inspiring me and without knowing it you all challenge me. Hugs to y'all. :)
A special thanks to Anita, who encouraged me to give a short story a real try...she though I could do it, although I wasn't sure... And to have her eyes, suggestions and support on this wee bit of story was wonderful!
Also to Mercy and Kristina, without your encouragement and eyes on this story, it would never have seen the light of day.
An extra special thanks to Jenna, sweetie...your support as always and your suggestions hugs...but gal...you are the one who introduced me to the wonder that is Mumford and Sons.. so a huge hug to you! Without you your suggestion...there would be no story..lol
Dear readers If I had never heard the song, or expenced the wonder of Mumford and sons...well I would suggest you give them a try. ..
So holding my breath as I post...I welcome and love feed back...If you happen to read this bit of writing..tell me what you think, really, I want to know...
Oh and as promised here are the lyrics from the song "Dust Bowl Dance" by, Mumford and Sons. If you ever get a chance you must check out this group...amazing songs and pros.
The story you just read is very loosely based on this song...
"Dust Bowl Dance"
The young man stands on the edge of his porch
The days were short and the father was gone
There was no one in the town and no one in the field
This dusty barren land had given all it could yield
I've been kicked off my land at the age of sixteen
And I have no idea where else my heart could have been
I placed all my trust at the foot of this hill
And now I am sure my heart can never be still
So collect your courage and collect your horse
And pray you never feel this same kind of remorse
Seal my heart and brake my pride
I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind
To face what I've done and do my time
Well you are my accuser, now look in my face
Your opression reeks of your greed and disgrace
So one man has and another has not
How can you love what it is you have got
When you took it all from the weak hands of the poor?
Liars and thieves you know not what is in store
There will come a time I will look in your eye
You will pray to the God that you always denied
The I'll go out back and I'll get my gun
I'll say, "You haven't met me, I am the only son"
Seal my heart and brake my pride
I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind
To face what I've done and do my time
Well yes sir, yes sir, yes it was me
I know what I've done, cause I know what I've seen
I went out back and I got my gun
I said, "You haven't met me, I am the only son"