"Wake up! It's go time!"
The young farmhand yawned as he stretched. He cocked his head to the glassless window to stare at the morning sun slowly rising above the hills.
He smiled.
"What a mighty fine day." he said.
Unlike most of his coworkers who got exhausted easily, young Ellis McKinney was always confident and upbeat, always willing to get the job done no matter how tiring it was. He was also quite the comedian and storyteller, since he always tried to keep everyone else levelheaded when times were tough. And as a result, Ellis was well-liked by everyone. They had complete trust in him.
He just wished his boss, the ranch's owner, Wade Tyler, could respect him more.
All the workers gathered together to listen to their ringleader give his commands.
"Alright, men. Since we're expanding the stables, we got some heavy wooden joists to move. Gonna be lots of hammering too. It's gonna take a while if we work separately. So we're gonna have to work in groups if we wanna get the job done quicker. We hope to be done by early afternoon. More horses will be coming in a few days."
Everyone looked at each other.
"What're you waiting for?! MOVE!"
The men immediately got to work.
"Ellis, would you mind cutting some boards?" asked a worker, his best friend, Keith.
"No problem, Keith." Ellis replied.
"Well, let me have a ruler and a saw and a board and I'll cut it…"
Ellis sawed pieces from boards that were too long.
"I'll climb up the ladder with a hammer and nail and I'll nail it…"
A worker climbed down from the stable roof to take a break, and Ellis climbed up to take his place hammering extensions to the roof.
"Well, we worked so hard to build a little house together…"
He and several other men carried large pieces of wood and set them down to build walls.
"In the snow or the rain or the ice cold wind whenever…"
As the morning progressed, he hammered nails in, took some breaks, got sent back into work, cracked jokes, told stories…
"No matter…"
More hammering.
"What the weather…"
He drank water. Soon, there was more hammering with the other workers. Then, they put together fences that would separate the horses from each other.
"We're together."
And from there, they worked, worked, and worked some more.
By early afternoon, thanks to the combined efforts of all the men working together, work on expanding the horses' stable was done.
"Nice work, gentlemen! Let's give ourselves a big round of applause for a job well-done!" said the ringleader of the workers.
The workers all applauded themselves for their hard work. They all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.
"We did it, boys!"
"Can't wait to see the look on Tyler's face when he sees this!"
Ellis wandered around with a satisfied, happy smile. Then, he just so happened to look up at the window of the farmhouse. There, smiling back at him, was a young woman around his age. She was the ranch owner's daughter, Zoey, the woman he always longed for.
Zoey waved at the boy and sent him a wink, as if giving her approval of the work done. Ellis went red and rubbed his head while chuckling awkwardly.
"Ellis!"
Ellis was surprised when he felt a hearty slap on his shoulder. Keith was standing there, smiling.
"What're you waitin' for, man? Let's go celebrate!" he told his friend.
"Ayt. Ayt. Let's go!" Ellis responded.
Ellis waved to the girl in the window as he and his friend walked off with their co-workers.
Riding from a forest just below the Ambarino mountains, Arthur, Charles, Nick and Francis rode their way back to town.
"That went well." said Arthur.
"We got some rabbits, birds, not to mention a deer. Nice job, guys." said Charles.
"I actually don't hate hunting." Francis contributed to the conversation.
"Good for you, Petunia." Arthur responded to him with a smirk.
Francis rolled his eyes.
"Ha ha ha. Very funny, Morgan. Typical."
Arthur laughed.
"To be fair, yer still better than Micah. And more productive than Uncle." he assured his fellow outlaw.
"Oh, I'm touched." Francis responded.
Suddenly, Nick, who was leading the way, stopped and raised his hand to halt his companions.
"Stop."
The other three did as ordered.
"What is it? Something wrong?" asked Charles.
"Something's not right." said Nick, his voice lowered. He gestured to a nearby ranch.
"What about it? There ain't even anything there." said Francis with a snort.
"We don't know that!" Nick responded back.
Charles looked at Francis.
"He has a point, you know."
"Why don't we ride over there and…take a look? See what's bothering you." Arthur suggested to Nick.
Nick nodded.
"Exactly what I was gonna say. Come on."
The four men rode up to the ranch. Upon arriving, they noticed how strangely quiet it was. Usually, when ranches were empty, animals could still be heard in the surrounding wilderness.
But this time, it was different.
For there was only silence.
No birds chirping, no horses grunting or neighing, no sheep were heard making their distinctive noises, no pigs squealing…
Nothing.
The men got off their horses to investigate, and as they did, the horses ran off, surprising them.
"The hell?" muttered Arthur.
"We'll get them later. In the meantime, let's search this place." said Charles.
With their guns out, the men searched through the place. Nobody was around. However, Francis noted that in the farmhouse, there was still some fresh food on the dining room table. Not to mention that furniture was still around and the owners' possessions still remained. The horse stables were also empty, almost as if the horses all ran off.
"See anything, Charles?" asked Arthur.
"Nothing."
"WHOA SHIT!"
A yell caught the attention of both men, as well as Francis, who emerged from the house. Immediately, they ran to the outside of the barn, where Nick was standing frozen in his place.
"What's wrong, Nicky?" asked Arthur.
"Well…if you really wanna see it…" the pale con man responded.
Arthur, Charles, and Francis joined their companion in seeing what was inside the barn.
What they saw was a horrifying scene.
The bodies of the family who owned the ranch were all hanging upside down from the rafters, having completely been drained of their blood. Not only that, but the carcasses of the ranch's animals were also sprawled throughout the barn, covering the place in a red mess of organs and blood. In fact, several of the animals were also completely drained of their blood like their owners.
"Who the hell would do this?" Arthur wondered aloud.
"I…I…I don't know…" Charles responded in disbelief. "The corpses are fresh. Looks like they were killed only recently."
"Uh, guys? You might wanna check this out." said Francis, who had gone outside the barn.
After Arthur had finished sketching the scene of the crime in his journal, the other men headed to where Francis was standing.
"Take a look."
On the wall outside the barn were words written in blood.
"TO WHOEVER COMES ACROSS THIS, IT SHALL BE MADE KNOWN THAT THE DEAD WALK AMONG YOU. WE MAY WALK IN THE DAYLIGHT, BUT WE GROW STRONGER BY NIGHT. MY MASTER SHALL ARRIVE IN THIS COUNTRY SOON. HE HAS GREAT PLANS FOR THIS NATION. SO BE PREPARED, FOOLISH MORTALS. FOR DARKNESS WILL FALL ACROSS THE LAND."
The men didn't want to believe what they were reading.
"Is this some kind of joke?" asked Nick.
"I know this may sound crazy, but…I hate jokes that involve dead animals. And people." said Francis.
"Arthur, what do you think of this?" Charles asked.
Arthur, still in a daze, managed to respond.
"You know, ladies…I think it's a good thing we're headed to the saloon for drinks after this."
Throughout the day, Hosea tried his best to keep a calm mood, but the dream he had the night before still lingered in his mind.
Eventually, he sat down with Dutch to discuss details of said dream.
"In the dream…I remember it was dark. I was in a clearing. And it was foggy too. I saw Bessie. She had her back to me. Of course since she was my wife, my first instinct was to approach her. I did."
"And?" Dutch asked.
"I asked her if she was okay. Then, she turned around. What I saw horrified me. Her face was pale with streaks of blood. And her eyes…Her goddamn eyes…"
"What about them?"
"Just…white. A solid milky white. Like the eyes of a corpse. No pupils at all. And then next thing I knew…she bit into my neck. And that was the last thing I remember."
There was silence between them, broken only by Dutch whistling.
"Well…that was…quite a dream, Hosea." he said.
"I burst awake after that. I walked around the camp for a while, trying to recollect myself. I did go back to sleep, and it was quite peaceful. But that dream was…odd. Ominous even."
Hosea leaned closely and looked into Dutch's eyes.
"I have a strange feeling something's coming, Dutch. And it ain't gonna be pretty."
It was just a normal day in New Orleans. Crowds of people were just walking through the streets minding their own business, others were simply standing around taking in the view, people were chatting with each other, jazz musicians were playing music, lawmen were chasing petty thieves. Yep. Everything you'd expect to see in New Orleans.
In a restaurant, Darnell Briggs was cooking up another one of his best foods. A special of his, what he called, "Momma's Finest Chicken Fry", basically chicken fried steak with secret herbs and spices covered in a special sauce and served with some veggies. That was his mother's recipe, hence the dish's name.
He picked up the plate holding said food and personally served it to the awaiting customer who had ordered it.
"Here you go, sir. One of my best dishes." Briggs said to the customer.
The customer was taken aback by the cook's politeness. He cut a piece of the chicken and ate it. His eyes widened as he nodded in approval.
"This is really good! What's it called?" he asked.
"It's called Momma's Finest Chicken Fry, sir! One of my specialties. It's called that for a reason. Cause it also happens to be my momma's recipe." the cook responded with a smile.
"I can see why it's a specialty. Your mother has great taste." said the customer.
Briggs nodded appreciatively.
"What's your name, son? I'd like to know." asked the customer.
"Darnell Briggs, mister. At your service." the cook replied. "But everybody calls me Coach. Because I coach a lot of people who are into sports."
"Well, Mister Briggs, compliments to you."
Coach chuckled.
"Thank you and you're welcome." he said with a bow.
That was his last dish served that day, since his shift was ending. He packed his things and left the restaurant, bidding farewell to his coworkers and patrons alike. As he walked home, he noticed the infamous Beaulieu Manor in the distance. There was a wagon parked outside, and two men were seen carrying things into the house.
"Somebody moving in there? After all these years?" Coach wondered aloud.
Beaulieu Manor was the site of a grisly murder-suicide that happened years ago, when a Frenchman named Alexandre Beaulieu murdered his entire family before blowing his head off with a shotgun. Since then, the house had remained empty, with many fearing it to be haunted. Screams and cries had been reported since not too long after the incident, as well as phantom figures moving throughout the house. The headless ghost of Alexandre Beaulieu himself was said to chase unwanted trespassers from the property.
Of course, these were just stories to exaggerate the history of the house, or so Coach thought.
Even then, he still got the creeps at the sight of the old house. In fact, for some reason unknown to him, he had an urge to be far from there immediately.
"Hold it steady!"
"I am, goddammit!"
The two workers carrying the large wooden box into the house struggled, but tried their best. Also in the house were heavy pieces of furniture, since a new owner was moving into the old place.
The men struggled for a bit more as they finally made their way into the parlor.
"Okay. Let's set this thing down."
"Alright. Careful now."
The two men slowly bent to the ground, and carefully set the large box down.
"There. That's the last of it." said one of them as he wiped sweat off his brow.
"Lord be praised." said the other.
The two men stood and drank for a while. They said nothing. Until one of them broke the silence.
"Where'd this box come from anyway?" he asked.
"Apparently, this thing came all the way from Europe. Germany I think." the other responded.
"You know the name of the person moving in here?"
"Yeah. Some guy named Lucius Van Drake. They say he's on an extended business trip. Apparently, he wants to see everything, furniture, all in order when he finally arrives here. It's kinda weird that he doesn't have no assistant or anything."
As time slowly passed by, the two men began to feel uneasy. They stared at the box on the floor. As they did so, they had the strangest feeling of being watched.
"Roger, can I ask you a question?" one of them asked the other.
"Go on, Mick. Shoot."
"Since when the hell did it become so cold in here?"
They realized that there was a strange chill that came upon them. It also should be noted that there were no windows open nearby.
"Mick, can we please leave?" Roger asked his friend.
"Yeah. Let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps." Mick responded.
With that, the two men started walking. Then, they looked back at the box. It wasn't long before their growing fear got the best of them. And they didn't stop running until they were out of the house.
For a while, silence was prevalent around Bieulieu Manor. Seconds turned into minutes. Then minutes turned into hours. The sun eventually set, and the moon rose up as night fell.
All was quiet, until the front doors to Bieulieu Manor opened.
Several figures walked into the house, led by who appeared to be a voodoo priest. They took some moments to survey the place, before continuing on.
Their journey through the house eventually brought them into the parlor where the box lay. They surrounded it and stared at it intently.
The voodoo priest looked to the others with him for approval. They nodded. The priest moved towards the foot of the box and raised his arms into the air.
"Arise, our master."
Then, the box's lid slowly began to creak open.
Well, that's all for now. See you in the next chapter.