Disclaimer, Everything belongs to Rockstar, except for the OCs, the Bible verses, and the plotline. The OCs and the plotline are mine, the Bible verses belong to God. Inspired by motordog's "John Marston: Monster Slayer."

Psalms 140:4

Guard me, O Lord, from the hands of the wicked;
preserve me from violent men,
who have planned to trip up my feet.

Chapter 1: Once in a Red Moon

In the desert, no one can hear you. Except for the rabbits, the deers, and the occasional armadillo. And the rare cougar. However, this is one night where even bears fear to thread. Not a single animal in sight, not even those blasted vultures. The very air is dead.

The bright yellow moon shone in the sky, like a spotlight, exposing everything behind every rock and crevice.

John huddled close to the fire, his Kentucky saddler close by. The horse seemed uneasy, trotting around and keeping it's head up. Almost like it was looking for something, being on the alert. The ex-outlaw shivered, and kept his hand closer to the warmth. Not that it was cold or anything, but just to feel the heat. There was a certain chill in the air, that seemed to seep right into the bone. He really should've been back at the ranch by now, but he'd been held up. First by a horse thief who'd stolen someone's horse, then he had had to rescue some poor woman from a hanging by some outlaw scum. Lastly, a treasure hunter become the hunted as the Chinaman fought for his life and his wealth against bandits.

By the end of the day, he was several hours late, and the sun had begun setting. He had considered travelling through the night, but his horse was exhausted, and so was he, so he'd decided to set up camp for the night. Wouldn't do him much good if he was too tired to fight back on the way home, he had decided.

However, he was coming to regret his decision. Something was wrong tonight. The desert was too quiet. He hadn't seen a single living thing. And his horse's odd behaviour. Animals had a mighty keen sixth sense. If they start acting funny, you'd best take heed of them.

John chucked a few more twigs into the fire. Although a surprise attack by a pack of coyotes seemed to be the least of his worries, a bigger fire would be more than enough to scare off other predators. "Let's hope them cougars stay to themselves..."

A twig snapped.

John immediately whirled to the source of the sound, pistol out and ready. He couldn't see anything, true enough but he'd long learned that just because something wasn't visible to the eye doesn't mean that something isn't there.

Slowly, he got up, body all tense, his finger on the trigger. The fire threw shadows all over the place. John strained his eyes, looking out for any sign on whatever it was. His senses were on the alert now. He cast his eyes to the darkness, looking out for anything.

A flash of brown erupted from the shadows, sprinting directly towards him. A twitch of the finger, the smell of gunpowder, and a single gunshot rang out.

John stepped over, amused at his own paranoia.

"A damn rabbit. You're getting funny in your old age Marston..."

He took out his knife and proceeded to skin the animal.

"Looks like rabbit for dinner to-"

He didn't even feel the blow until too late.

As John Marston hit the ground hard, his horse whinnied hard and sprinted off into the distance. Three gun shots, but all bullets missed the golden horse as it weaved in and out of the hills. The mysterious assailant cursed and took aim one more time. However, another hand reached out, and pulled the gun away.

"No need to get trigger happy," A low voice muttered.

The rifleman spat to the ground, and grabbed his gun back.

"He did say no witnesses, I was just following orders."

Even in the dark, he could just make out the raised eyebrow of his tall and thin companion. In response, he just gave the one-finger salute.

"Enough chit-chat, let's get our dear Mr. Marston back to our base. We've only got tonight, or we'll lose everything."

"Alright, alright, keep your pants on!"

Grumbling to himself, the stocky rifleman picked up the unconscious man and lassoed him tightly. Meanwhile, the other man pulled out a tiny book from his pocket. Flipping through a few pages, his eyes scanned the contents before he found what he was looking for.

"Are you ready?" He asked, turning to his partner.

"Ready when you are, twinkle toes."

Slowly, he made the necessary hang signs, chanting words that chilled the very air. As he said the final word, a sign appeared on the ground. The two men stepped within, and just as sudden as their attack, disappeared into nothingness.

Around the now empty camp site, the world seemed to breathe yet again. The rabbits crept out of their burrows, the deers frolicked around the hills, and a cougar found its night meal in the dead body of a rabbit.

A lone horse stood on the hill, before it raced off to the horizon.

The yellow moon slowly coloured, turning into a bloody red.

Bonnie was up earlier than usual. For some reason, sleep wasn't coming. "Damn it..." she thought to herself. "I really could use the rest..." However, she found that her body was rebelling against her. She was just too...restless. Something inside her was hinting to her about something, or was it someone?

She shook her head. "No such things as ghosts or phantoms." She scolded herself. "There's only cattle, horses, and the ranch." True that had not come back yesterday night as he had promised he would, but if there was someone in the world that she needn't worry about, it was that reformed outlaw. She had seen his gun skills, and she more pitied the fool who crossed him, then he himself.

"Maybe he'll get back today."She mused to herself, as she put on her normal everyday clothes.

She headed outside. Some of the workers were up already, getting ready for the day's work. She greeted some of them, and they waved back. Everyone was fond of the Macfarlanes, and they were fair employers as well. An honest day's work would get you an honest day's pay, and maybe sometimes a little extra. That's the way Drew Macfarlane ran the ranch, and that's how Bonnie would do it. However, what with the debt and the weird weather, as well as the hustlers...Bonnie wasn't sure how she was going to keep on running the ranch. Money was tight, and she sometimes felt like a noose was slowly tightening around her neck.

Suddenly, she shivered. Yet another chill down her spine. Sighing to herself, she walked over to her horse. "A morning ride will shake off some of these bad feelings..."

Just as she was about to unhitch her horse however, she heard a shrill horse whinny from a far. Looking up, she saw two horses, one of them a golden Kentucky Saddler galloping full throttle towards her. And there was only one man, as far as knew, who owned a horse that darn fast, and who would dare come to the ranch at this god-forsaken hour. She felt relief. Good, he hasn't gotten himself killed yet.

The horse was galloping alongside a second horse, black as midnight, and just as fast, if not faster, than his golden cousin. Bonnie could tell that it must be a very strong horse indeed, from the way it sped across the horizon. The rider on top of it must be had to be Marston.

"He must've spent the night trying to get that fine beast." She couldn't help but get excited, in spite of her annoyance. Pure black horses were a rarity around Armadillo.

She turned towards it, her hands on her hips, waiting for him to get near, prepared to start grating this stupid man who said he was coming yesterday and had no idea how much he had worried her...

...only to realise that it was not Marston who was on top of that horse. The rider was too tall, and he wore different clothes. Confused, she turned towards the Kentucky Saddler. Only something was draped across its back. Something that resembled a human body.

Immediately, a horrible feeling washed over her. She ran towards the two horses as they neared and finally stopped in front of her. Ignoring the stranger completely, she rushed to inspect the Kentucky Saddler.

On its back was John Marston, all bloodied yet again.

Bonnie covered her mouth and inhaled sharply. The man looked like he had been a cougar's play thing for the night. There were deep ugly slashes completely covering his back and his chest, all over his body, and blood continued to stream down through the open wounds a gash from his forehead. His eyes were closed, and he seemed dead to the world.

Quickly, she yelled for help. As some men started running towards her, she checked for a pulse.

"Thank God!" A faint one.

Someone rushed forward with a bucket of water and a sponge. Bonnie grabbed them and started dabbing away at the bigger wounds. As the wagon rushed out for the doctor, she was so intent on stopping the blood flow from the more severe wounds that she failed to notice certain cuts on his back sealing up slowly.

During the whole time, the man in black watched impassively atop his horse. His dark brown eyes took in all that was happening, and he didn't say a single word as he watched the wounds heal themselves. His gaze came to focus on Bonnie, as she continued to tend to Marston. A slight smile formed on his lips.

"She's beautiful indeed."

Somebody was yelling at him, telling him to get off his high horse and help. With a sigh, he got off and started to help carry the injured man to the house. However, he couldn't help but glance quickly to the east, as the sun started to rise, the light reflected on his eyes. His expression was unreadable, but the hatred in his eyes was not. Turning away, he kicked the door open, and with the help of another man brought Marston into the room.

In the far distance, a man watched the scene through his telescope. He was dressed in a priest's outfit, with a single cross dangling from a chain around his neck. His blonde hair was tied back in a pony tail. A small frown was on his face, as he focused on the injured cowboy, and his grip tightened when the mysterious rider came into view. As the man with the brown eyes stared straight at him, the priest held his breath. After he turned away, he exhaled, relieved.

"I can't be found out so early on." He whispered to himself.

As he lowered his binoculars, azure blue eyes looked to the twilight sky. The moon was slowly disappearing in the sky, but it had been the perfect night for spell casting.

After all, it's only once in a red moon that the conditions are met.