Hang Down Your Head
Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly or the song Tom Dooley by the Kingston Trio
A/N:This is one of my archived stories that I'm bringing over from my "King Nate" account but this time I've rewritten it to a more modernized and well written form. Enjoy it.
This was inspired by the song "Tom Dooley", which was inspired by legend. If you haven't heard this, I recommend you do, it's not half bad. This has a bit of a western theme, you'll understand when you read the lyrics/hear the song.
-POOR BOY YOU'RE BOUND TO DIE-
Throughout history
There've been many songs written about the eternal triangle
This next one tells the story of a Mr Grayson, a beautiful woman
And a condemned man named Tom Dooley...
When the sun rises tomorrow, Tom Dooley... must hang...
Gibby's blood pulsated through his veins and a chill ran through his body while listening to a fellow inmate play out a tune on his harmonica. Sweat trickled like rivers along the edges of his eye sockets and down his nose, and his trembling fingers hugged his knees.
The tune was eerie and sent chills down his spine. In his mind, he replayed his capture and extradition over and over-pondering how he close he was to escape. One wrong turn led him to a cave where the posse finally caught up with him.
"He's this way!" Sherriff Benson announced. Gibby ducked around the wall of a cave and pressed himself against the cold, wet stone while panting heavily. Sherriff Benson led a posse all the way from Washington and teamed up with a local town sheriff in California.
"No, no." Gibby grabbed at his canteen with frantic hands and scrambled to undo the cap. He was almost to the border, and once he crossed over he'd be free. "Should've gone for Ol' Tennessee. Benson wouldn't follow me."
He closed his eyes and moved the canteen up to his dry and chapped lips, but before the crisp water could touch them a gunshot rang out and knocked the canteen from his hand.
Gibby snapped his head to the right and froze as the shadow of a black horse fell on him. Seated on the horse was a man with brown boots, jeans, a button up shirt and brown hat. His eyes were locked in a fierce, deadly glare on Gibby, and his moustache bristles blew out as his nostrils spread out.
"Jonas 'Gibby' Gibson, you're under arrest boy. Come peacefully."
Gibby's eyes turned to the right and for a moment he contemplated running further into the cave. Before he could make his decision, however, a thick lasso fell and tightened around his chest. At the end of the rope was the second sheriff, Sheriff Vega.
"We don't hold kindly to your kind in our state, boy."
Gibby dropped his head and clenched his fists as the harmonica music ceased. "What're you in fer?" The inmate asked. He turned to the dirt-covered man with the lopsided hat and slanted his eyes.
"Murder." The man whistled and slapped his knee.
"Who'd you off?"
"The sheriff's future daughter-in-law." Lady Samantha Puckett was wed to Sheriff John Benson's son, Freddie. She was a beautiful woman with long golden hair and gentle blue eyes. "I lured her out to a mountaintop, took out my blade and lost it."
The inmate's eyes widened and he shook his head with a mournful shake. "You took the lady betrothed to the Sheriff's kid? You done screwed up."
"I'm aware. Thank you." He curled the upper corner of his lip up, revealing his teeth. His eyebrows brushed together and he looked towards the bars with a sigh.
The trial had been swift, and the jury took mere moments to deliberate before sentencing him to hang. For you see, taking the life of an officer of the law or their family was the gravest sin for which the only reward was death.
"Tomorrow when that noose wraps around my neck, I'll gladly take my final breath."
The inmate leaned forward. His eyes squinted and his harmonica tapped lightly against the side of his leg. "Why'd you do it?" Gibby raised an eyebrow and hunched over his clasped hands. His shoulders fell and he heaved forth a heavy sigh.
"Jealousy. She was Benson's woman, I wanted her for my own but I couldn't have her." He raised his head and glared through the iron bars at the deputy sleeping at a wooden desk. "Couldn't have her for my own so I killed her."
"Did you confess in court? I heard your trial was swift."
"It was the Sheriff's family." His eyes slid to the man and his nostrils flared. "I'll never confess, I had no need to. Kill a lawman or their family and they'll write it on your tombstone. I'll be legend in these here parts."
"I'll think on you."
"Write a song for me, won't you?" He smirked at the inmate and pointed to the harmonica. "One you can play on that thing. You got time in this cell, what else will you do?"
"Perhaps I shall."
"This time tomorrow, I'll hang down my head and let that noose tighten on me."
"Poor guy, bound for death…"
The next day around noon, the sun was high in the sky. Gibby had to bring his hand over his eyes to shield them from the light. The deputy behind him nudged him in the back, sending a sharp pain into his body.
He lowered his hand and growled at the deputy. "I'm moving, I'm moving, put your gun down."
Before him was a large tree with a rope thrown over a strong branch. The noose was in the hands of Freddie Benson, who was staring at him with a lethal sneer. "You'd best get up here," Freddie said with a growl.
Gibby followed the rope with his eyes and stopped at a nail that the end was tied to; it was buried deep in the ground. The noose was designed to hang above a cedar box which would be kicked out from under him.
He took a heavy breath and approached slowly while turning his eyes to Sheriff Benson. "Well, you caught me." Slowly he stepped onto the box and turned to face Benson's posse. "All for me?"
Freddie threw the noose over his neck. Gibby felt the man tug on the rope and grunted as the noose cut into his throat. "Any last words, Gibson?" He bowed his head, contemplating for a minute just what he wanted to say.
"Yeah." He moved the tip of his foot to the edge of the box, preparing to kick it from under him himself. Gibby turned his head up and cocked a smirk at the posse. "Tell my little sister, Annie, tell her she owes me."
"Ann?"
"Yeah, Ann."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then kicked the box swiftly from beneath him. One final memory played through his mind just as the rope snapped the life from him.
"Ann, where in the hell did you run off to?" Gibby pushed himself through the thick branches of the mountain he and his sister traveled to. She told him that she was to meet Samantha Puckett atop this mountain, and ran off ahead of him.
He was suspicious of the meeting because he knew Annie couldn't stand Samantha. The hatred this girl had for the blonde ran deep, for the rumors that ran through the county were that Annie was sleeping with the Sheriff's son.
The rumors were untrue as far as Gibby knew, for Freddie rejected her advances and it enraged her to the point all that he saw in her eyes was blood.
"Annabelle, answer me woman!"
He finally reached the top of the mountain and caught a sight that took the breath from his lungs. Annie was staring wide-eyed at him and in her hand was his long bowie knife.
The knife had blood dripping from it, and her clothes were stained with spatter. At her feet lay Samantha Puckett in a pool of blood that tainted her long golden curls.
"Annabelle, what did you do?" He rushed for his sister, grabbing the blade from his hands. His heartbeat quickened and his chest expanded as his eyes fell to the former beauty.
"I-I thought without her Freddie would be with me," Anna cried. Tears welled up in her eyes and her hands trembled in front of her face. "I…I just wanted to scare her, to make her leave him. She tried to take the knife and it cut her. I had to do it, Gibby! I had to take her life or she'd tell."
He cursed violently and knelt beside Samantha's body. "Damn it, Anna." He looked to the Cliffside that overlooked a swift river and snapped his fingers. "Take off your dress and throw it into the river."
"Why?"
"Do it and run." He put his hand into the pool of blood and started to splash it on his clothes. When he looked to his sister's terrified eyes, he repeated himself with greater force until she did as said. "Get the hell out of here."
She did as ordered and he held the knife to Sam's chest, closing his eyes as the air in his throat hardened into a thick lump. "I'm sorry ma'am." He sank the blade into the woman winced as the voice of the Sheriff filled the air.
In that instant, he took off running and stole one of the deputy's horses, now a killer on the run.
Gibby's life ended at the tree, and his body would sway gently beneath the next two suns and three moons. Vultures would claim his body, and he would be forgotten by those close to the crime, but his legend would continue.
For you see, the inmate he spoke with was true to his word. A song eventually came out, written by an unknown source. The author would do credit to Gibby by changing his name and the name of the sheriff that captured him.
So while he was long gone, his legend lived on for many generations to pass, an innocent man caught in the midst of someone else's great jealousy.
The legend of "Tom Dooley" It was in 1868 that a man by the name of Thomas Dula allegedly killed his sweetheart, Laura Foster. He never confessed to the murder and many believe he was innocent. Many believe he was protecting the woman's sister, Ann. It is said that Thomas and Ann had an affair and she murdered Laura out of jealousy, therefore the belief is that Thomas died so that she would go free.
www. findagrave cgi-bin / ?GRid=2473&page=gr
A site with the legend, do read! You'll find it VERY interesting!: muse . jhu . edu/ journals/ appalachian_heritage/v036/36.
Yes the legend at the end is real, Thomas C. Dula. If I had intended this oneshot to go 100% to the legend, I probably could have used Freddie/Sam/Carly for this. I hope you enjoyed the story, drop a review if you will ^_^.