Disclaimer: I don't own anything yadda yadda. But enough of that, welcome, my friends to the Rattlesnake offshoot fic! This will detail the adventures of the most infamous outlaw to have ever lived, in the Bored Outer God universe. This first chapter contains some of his first adventures.
A figure riding a horse slowly made his way towards a small New Mexico town.
"Señor, please! I beg you, please leave! You are not safe here!" The old man desperately trying to keep up with Sitter's gaite cried.
"Why's that?" Rattlesnake said, taking a puff of his cigarillo.
"The Azuls, they control this town, no one is safe! The coffin maker is the richest person here!"
"There's nothing to worry about. I'll just stick around long enough to water my horse and have a quick drink."
Rattlesnake's boots hit the dusty ground with two thumps punctuated by the tinkling of his spurs, the outlaw tied Sitter to the hitching post and made his way inside the saloon. As the little saloon doors slammed behind him, all noise within came to a grinding halt, shifty-looking men stopped playing poker, even shiftier-looking men at the bar stopped continuing their alcoholism.
"Whiskey," Rattlesnake said to the bartender.
"That'll be twenty-five cents," The bartender replied.
Rattlesnake drew one of his colt walkers and placed it on the counter.
The bartender laughed nervously, "I-I mean i-it's on the house."
Rattlesnake holstered his revolver. As he downed a shot of whiskey, he heard the saloon doors slam and all sound within the building cease once again.
"If I ever see you in this town again, I'll pull out your guts and hang you with them!" A gravelly voice spoke.
"Another," Rattlesnake said.
The bartender poured him another shot of whiskey, Rattlesnake downed it nearly immediately.
A mustachioed Hispanic man sidled up to the counter, he was missing two teeth in his lower jaw and wore a blue sash around his waist.
"Mezcal." The man said to the bartender, "What are you looking at?"
"Your ugly mug," Rattlesnake replied, downing another shot.
"You aren't from around here, are you gringo?"
Rattlesnake smirked. "Nope, just came in."
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to learn a few things about my town." The man started to reach over.
Rattlesnake, as swift as the wind, grabbed the man's hand and slammed it down on the counter, and at the same time kneed the man in the stomach.
"First you'll have to learn something about me," Rattlesnake used his free hand to take his burning cigarillo and put it out on the man's index finger, "I don't take kindly to threats."
Rattlesnake released the man and made his way towards the entrance, he had his thumbs in his belt close to his guns, just in case.
"¡Hijo de puta!" The man shouted, his hand shot towards his gun.
Rattlesnake whirled around, he drew his guns, and shot the man several times all within a millisecond.
The man slumped to the floor with a resounding thump, bleeding from several holes throughout his torso.
"Good riddance to bad trash," Rattlesnake said, striding from the saloon.
/ / / / / / / /
Rattlesnake struck a match on the side of a building, and quickly lit the bundle of dynamite situated in a hole he'd arduously drilled into the bank wall.
The outlaw dove behind another building and waited, a minute later a tremendous boom shook the small town. Rattlesnake drew his colt walkers and rushed into the bank vault through the massive hole created by the dynamite.
A few minutes later Rattlesnake sprinted back through the hole carrying two sacks of money over his shoulders. He quickly tied them both to a rope then threw them over Sitter's back before hopping up on his back, the horse immediately began galloping.
"Stop right there!" Who just had to be the local sheriff said.
Rattlesnake rolled his eyes, drew one of his revolvers, and shot the lawman dead without even looking.
/ / / / / / / /
Wanted!
'Rattlesnake'
Age, Unknown. Height 6 foot 10 inches. Weight, 235 lbs. Red hair, brown eyes, and five scars going vertically across both lips. Wanted for Murder and Armed Robbery in California.
Reward
$750
/ / / / / / / /
"Alright, put a stop to them horses!"
The stagecoach came to a halt as Rattlesnake's proclamation registered in the driver's mind. The shotgun messenger took aim, but before the guard could fire, a bang sounded, and the shotgun messenger fell from his perch.
"Anyone else wanna try anything!" Rattlesnake shouted, "Good! Now, throw down the box."
The driver did so, throwing down a heavy metal lockbox. Rattlesnake took aim, shooting the lock off, it was full of bricks, regular old bricks.
"Wouldja kindly hand over the real box?" Rattlesnake growled.
A second heavy metal lockbox fell to the dirt with a thump, the gunslinger once again took aim and shot the lock off, it was full of bricks too.
"If you don't hand over the real box, so help me, I'm going to gut you like a pig!" The outlaw pulled his revolver's hammer back ominously.
A third lockbox fell to the ground, this time instead of a thump, it landed with the telltale clinking of something other than bricks.
"Bob, you keep these galoots covered while I search 'em!" Rattlesnake remarked cooly.
With the threat of his non-existent partner hanging over the driver's head, Rattlesnake made his way over to the passengers.
"Empty your pockets! I want every bit of coin you have! And you best give it all to me, or you'll start looking like swiss cheese!"
A few minutes later, Rattlesnake had a small bag of ill-gotten change.
"Here's your bricks," Rattlesnake threw them on top of the stagecoach, "Now go on, get!"
The stagecoach sped off as fast as it could leaving Rattlesnake alone with his stolen goods. Rattlesnake took aim for the third time and shot the lock off, the lid sprang open revealing a bunch of silver coins.
/ / / / / / / /
Wanted!
'Rattlesnake'
Age, Unknown. Height 6 foot 10 inches. Weight, 235 lbs. Red hair, brown eyes, and five scars going vertically across both lips. Wanted for Murder and Armed Robbery in California.
Reward
$1,515
/ / / / / / / /
"Rattlesnake-"
The outlaw lazily aimed over his shoulder and shot the US Marshal dead, the corpse dropped to the floor, becoming part of the pile of dead lawmen.
"Royal flush," Rattlesnake laid his cards out on the table.
The other men sitting at the table groaned, making the outlaw smirk.
"Well, as the old saying goes. Easy come easy go," Rattlesnake took a puff off his cigarillo.
One of the men slammed his fist on the table, "You cheated!"
"What did you say, boy?"
"I said you're a cheating-" The man dropped dead, blood running from a hole in his head.
"Anyone else have anything to say!" Rattlesnake shouted.
Virtually everyone in the saloon shook their heads.
"Good."
/ / / / / / / /
Wanted!
'Rattlesnake'
Age, Unknown. Height 6 foot 10 inches. Weight, 235 lbs. Red hair, brown eyes, and five scars going vertically across both lips. Wanted for Murder and Armed Robbery in California and Nevada.
Reward
$2,515
/ / / / / / / /
Rattlesnake trudged through the endless expanse of the Great Basin desert. The outlaw dragged a saddle along behind him, Sitter had gone and died while on their way to Ogden.
Two days, he'd been in this hell for two days. It felt more like weeks, it seemed as if the desert grew larger with each step he took.
Suddenly he heard an unmistakable sound, the sound of cows! Rattlesnake's dry lips formed a smile.
Several minutes later the outlaw was nearing a medium-sized structure. He could see several people milling around it, two were most definitely children, the others had to be their parents.
Rattlesnake heaved himself and his saddle over a fence that surrounded the property. The outlaw continued his long walk towards the farmhouse, his eyes were trained on a watering trough, he finally reached it minutes later and dunked his head in minus hat.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" A deep male voice spoke.
"My horse up and died on me," Rattlesnake croaked, looking up, he saw a bearded man holding a double-barreled shotgun standing a few feet away.
The man looked at him through squinted eyes for a minute, finally, he lowered the shotgun and held out a hand.
"Thanks," Rattlesnake said, taking the man's hand.
"Sorry about that, lately we've been having trouble with a group of bandits." The man said, "I was afraid you were one of 'em. Anyway, the name's Wade, Tom Wade."
"Jack," Rattlesnake said, using a fake name.
"So your horse died?" Tom asked.
"Yep, about two days ago," Rattlesnake returned his hat to his head.
"You've been wandering out in this desert for two days! You poor dear!" A feminine voice spoke.
Tom turned around, "Oh! Meet my wife Selma."
"Ma'am," Rattlesnake tipped his hat to her.
"You must be absolutely starved, please come in, we were just about to have supper."
A few minutes later the entire family plus Rattlesnake sat around the dinner table.
"Where'd you get those scars, mister?" The boy asked.
"The war," Rattlesnake responded.
"Oh."
"So you've been having trouble with bandits?" Rattlesnake asked, taking a bite of jackrabbit.
"Yeah, they keep trying to rustle our cattle, and every once in a while one of them rides up and tries to get us to pay them for 'protection.'" Tom spat.
"Sounds like they don't have anything under their hats but hair," Rattlesnake replied.
A small smirk formed on Tom's face, "Yeah. Anyhow, Selma's going into town tomorrow, they have a horse trader there, you might be able to find yourself one."
"Sounds good." Rattlesnake nodded.
The next day, Rattlesnake hopped up into the passenger's seat of a wagon being driven by Selma.
"Jack?" Selma asked after a few minutes of traveling.
"Yep?"
"How old are you?" Selma asked.
"Why?" Rattlesnake replied.
"I'm just curious, you said you fought in the war right?"
"I did say that, didn't I?" Rattlesnake paused, "I'm twenty-two."
Selma looked troubled and continued to until they got to a small town by the name of Copper Ridge.
Rattlesnake lit up a cigarillo and walked away from the general store they had stopped at. A minute later he reached a large barn inhabited by several different horses of varying breeds, but one caught his eye.
"How much is that horse there?" Rattlesnake asked, pointing at a white horse with vivid blue eyes.
"Two-hundred-fifty dollars."
The outlaw forked out the money, he definitely had more than enough due to all his robberies.
A minute later, he was leading the horse back to Selma's wagon, which was now full of supplies for the homestead.
"Oh, you found yourself a horse!" Selma said, "What'll you name her?"
"I think I'll call her, Gypsy." Rattlesnake said, patting the horse's muzzle.
/ / / / / / / /
Rattlesnake rode up on the saddleless Gypsy, it appeared Tom wasn't lying about bandits annoying them, three men stood across from the Wade patriarch who held his shotgun aloft.
The outlaw made a clicking sound causing Gypsy to start galloping, arriving a second later.
"Are these the bandits you told me about?" Rattlesnake asked, dismounting Gypsy and placing a hand on one of his colt walkers.
"Yeah," Tom said.
Two of the men's hands drew closer to their guns, the last, a kid looking to be about nineteen, did nothing of the sort, he just stood there, still as a statue, looking at the outlaw with wide eyes.
"You three best clear outta here," Rattlesnake warned.
"Or what?" One of the men, who must've been the leader of this trio, asked.
Rattlesnake put his other hand on his second colt walker, the two men's hands shot towards their guns in response. In the space of a millisecond, the outlaw drew his revolvers, pulled back their hammers, and shot the two men. They looked almost confused for a second before slowly and lifelessly falling to the dirt.
Rattlesnake twirled his guns back into their holsters, "Now, go on, get!"
The kid jumped, and looked around in shock before running for the hills.
"How'd you learn to shoot that-a-way?" Tom asked, gawping.
"Lots of practice." Rattlesnake replied, "But they'll be back, and with a whole hell of a lot more firepower than this time."
The next night Rattlesnake's words came true, the bandits were back in force. There were about ten of them, the kid wasn't with them.
The outlaw aimed from one of the farmhouse's windows with a scoped Winchester model 1866, and fired at the leading bandit. The man fell from his horse and landed in the dirt with a small plume of dust rising above him.
Rattlesnake quickly aimed once again, and fired at one of the now panicking bandits, a second bandit fell to the dirt. The distinct sound of a double-barreled shotgun felled another.
The shootist dashed from the house as a second shotgun blast sounded, killing another bandit, he fired the Winchester several more times striking four more men down. Rattlesnake drew his left colt walker, pulled back the hammer, and fired at one of the now fleeing bandits, the man dropped to the dirt. He pulled back the hammer again and fired, the bullet creating a bloody hole in the man's head.
"Did we get 'em?" Tom shouted from wherever he was.
Rattlesnake smiled cruelly, "Yeah."
/ / / / / / / /
"I best go check on Gypsy." Rattlesnake said, standing up from the wooden chair in the Wade's living room.
"Come back soon," Selma looked up from her knitting, "That's a mighty bad dust storm out there."
Rattlesnake pulled his bandana up over his nose and walked out into the raging dust storm, he slowly made his way to the barn, the outlaw could only see about two feet in front of him.
Opening the barn door, he stopped momentarily to retrieve a wanted poster from his pocket, a wanted poster which he hung on a jutting nail in the door.
"Hey, Gyps." Rattlesnake said, patting Gypsy on her cheek, "Come on, girlie."
The shootist led Gypsy through the barn doors and into the storm, Rattlesnake hopped on her back and they galloped off disappearing in the dust.
/ / / / / / / /
Rattlesnake rode into Ogden his form caked in dust, even Gypsy hadn't come out of that dust storm untouched, her coat once pure white, was now a light beige.
The outlaw dismounted, a cloud of dust coming off his clothes as his boots hit the dirt. He tied Gypsy to a hitching post and headed inside the saloon, this one was much livelier than the one in New Mexico, the residents must not have had much to fear.
He walked up to the bar and placed his colt walker on the counter, "Whiskey."
The bartender shakily poured a shot of whiskey and handed it to the shootist.
"Those are some big six-shooters you got there," The cowboy next to him said, "What are you some kinda gunfighter?"
Rattlesnake decided not to answer the obviously drunk man and just downed his whiskey. As he put the shot glass down, he felt something poke into his lower back.
"You're a wanted man, Rattlesnake," A cold voice spoke, "You should know better than to show your face in public."
"I knew I'd run into one of you idiots sooner or later," Rattlesnake growled.
"Enough talking! Turn around, all slow like," The cold voice said.
"Now gimme those guns!" The bounty hunter said after Rattlesnake turned.
Rattlesnake drew his colt walkers and flipped them so the butt faced forward, his forefingers were inserted into the trigger guards and touching his palms. As the bounty hunter reached out for the revolvers, Rattlesnake flicked his wrists sharply, causing the guns to pivot around his forefingers and land in the firing position, as they returned to his hand the outlaw drew back their hammers and fired.
The bounty hunter looked around for a second before dropping to the ground, dead. Rattlesnake twirled his revolvers back into their holsters and turned back to the bar.
/ / / / / / / /
Wanted!
'Rattlesnake'
Age, Unknown. Height 6 foot 10 inches. Weight, 235 lbs. Red hair, brown eyes, and five scars going vertically across both lips. Wanted for Murder and Armed Robbery in California, Nevada, and Utah.
Reward
$2,765
/ / / / / / / /
Rattlesnake scratched his nose with a hand enclosed in a heavily insulated leather glove. He could barely see three feet in front of him, the blizzard he had been caught in made sure of that. The icy wind was so all-encompassing that he could partially feel it through the buffalo coat and woolen scarf he wore.
The outlaw made a series of clicking sounds, which were barely audible of the whistling wind. Gypsy sped up a bit, she was having trouble with the nearly knee-deep snow.
Fifteen agonizingly cold minutes later, Rattlesnake caught a faint glow up ahead, a yellow glow that most certainly came with the added bonus of warmth. He tapped Gypsy on her side, causing her to speed up a bit more. Finally, a few minutes later, a small town had materialized out of the snow and ice, it looked almost dead abandoned, if it weren't for the yellow glow coming from one of the building's windows he would have thought so.
Rattlesnake hopped off his horse's back and made his way over to the battered-looking door, "Anyone in there!" He slammed his fist against the door.
"No!" Someone shouted from inside.
"Are you sure?" Rattlesnake shouted in reply.
"Yes!" A second voice from within replied.
"I'm too cold for this shit," Rattlesnake muttered, delivering a swift kick to the door which sprung open immediately revealing a group of people huddled in front of a roaring fireplace.
"Close up that door!" One of the men, who had a distinctively New Orleanian accent, shouted.
"Is there a stable around here?" Rattlesnake shouted.
"It collapsed a few weeks ago!"
The outlaw shrugged and led Gypsy into the small building, much to the protests of its occupants.
"This town looks about as dead as a can of corned beef." Rattlesnake said once everything had settled down.
"Yeah, everyone's been driven out, except for us, we founded this town and by god, we ain't leavin' just because of some blizzard." An elderly man sitting in a wheelchair spoke.
"What about the monsters, they brought the blizzard," A little girl added.
"Monsters! Pah! We keep tellin' you, that old drunk Bennett was killed by a bear, not some monster."
"What about the Allens?" The same little girl asked.
"That was a bear too."
"I seen one once!" A little boy explained, "It didn't look like any bear I'd ever seen, it was tall, thin, and walked on two legs, and it had claws the size of six-shooters!"
"Dammit Aran!" A woman who must have been the boy's mother cried, "If you keep sayin' stuff like that, people'll start to think you're crazy!"
"Then that makes us all crazy! Cause all us kids have seen 'em!" An older boy of about ten said from his spot in the corner.
All the kids in the little building made some noise of agreement in response to the boy's proclamation.
"Whatcha mean by, they brought the blizzard?" Rattlesnake questioned.
"We started seein' 'em right around the time the blizzard hit, 'bout a month ago." The boy explained, "They were just lurking around at first, watchin' us from the woods, then after the blizzard came in, people started going missin' only to be found days later havin' been gnawed on by something fierce."
Suddenly the door banged open flooding the room with icy air, in a flash Rattlesnake's left colt walker was cocked, in his hand, and pointed at the door.
"By God it's cold out there!" Said a grizzled-looking bearded man wearing a fur hat, in his hand was a lantern.
"Mr. Graydon, you're back!" The man with the New Orleanian accent exclaimed.
"Well of course I'm, back- what the hell is a horse doin' in here?" The man, Graydon, demanded.
Rattlesnake twirled his colt walker back into its holster, "She's mine."
"Who in the hell are you?" Graydon asked.
"The name's Winslow," Rattlesnake said, lighting up a cigarillo, "Apparently you have a monster problem?"
"No, they ain't monsters, they're bears, must've been riled up by this blizzard," Graydon answered.
As soon as he said this, a deafening scream pierced through the noise of the blizzard, it was a horrible sound, akin to something uttered by a man who'd seen the death of everyone he loved as he was being flayed.
"That doesn't sound like any bear I've ever seen," Rattlesnake said in a tone dryer than death valley.
"A wounded bear?" The man in the wheelchair offered.
"I don't think so," Rattlesnake said slowly as he got up and made his way over to the door, the outlaw managed to get it open before peeking out.
Rattlesnake's eyebrows crept up his forehead, surrounding the building were a group of gigantic shapes. In the darkness he could not make out much besides their structure which was silhouetted partially in the small amount of moonlight that could be seen through the blizzard. Each one stood about eight feet tall and were extremely thin, as if they had no fat whatsoever, another detail was their four long thin fingers on each hand, these ended in sharp points.
Rattlesnake drew his right colt walker, pointed it at one of the shapes, pulled back the hammer, and fired. The one he'd fired at stumbled back, making a sound almost like a wounded dog as it did so, the others bolted off disappearing into the snow. The outlaw fired into the sky, causing the wounded one to bolt off too.
Rattlesnake shoved the door closed, "Yeah, those things ain't bears."
"Then what the hell are they?" Graydon scoffed.
"No clue," Rattlesnake said, "But I'm gonna find out."
Rattlesnake picked up Graydon's discarded lantern, lit it, and opened the door.
"I'll go with you," Graydon grunted.
"Come on then!" Rattlesnake shouted as he stepped through the doorway.
A few minutes later the two were trudging through the knee-high snow, "Where are the trails?" Graydon asked.
"It appears there ain't any," Rattlesnake replied.
Graydon snorted, "Everything makes trails while going through the snow, especially four-hundred pound grizzly bears."
"Do you expect me to believe that a bear left that?" Rattlesnake shined the lantern over one of the creature's tracks, it was oddly human-like, and could definitely pass as a human footprint if it weren't for the claw marks situated in front of an abnormal number of toes.
"What the in the fuck," Graydon trailed off.
"Exactly!" Rattlesnake said, starting to follow the tracks once again.
They walked for about an hour, following the tracks the entire time, soon they had passed into the woods that bordered the town.
"So you're a gunman?" Graydon asked suddenly.
"I guess I am," Rattlesnake replied, "Say what's up beyond this forest?"
"An old silver mine, why?"
Rattlesnake stopped in his tracks, "And why exactly, did you not tell me of this?"
"Why does it matter?" Graydon said.
Rattlesnake whirled around, took off his hat, and smacked Graydon across the face with it, "You idiot! Those things are probably hidin' in the mine you failed to inform me of!"
After Rattlesnake finished chewing Graydon out, they continued on with their long walk to the mine. The two reached it half an hour later, it was certainly old-looking, the rusty cart tracks made sure of that.
"Well, something's definitely set up shop in there," Rattlesnake spoke.
They ventured into the dark mine, the walls, support beams, and some parts of the track were covered in deep gouges, like someone took an axe to them.
Graydon gagged, "That smell."
"Rotting flesh," Rattlesnake murmured, "Do you have a gun?"
"Yeah," Graydon said, patting his side.
"Well, you best keep your hand on it, I believe we may have some company soon." Rattlesnake drew his left colt walker.
The mine seemed to go on endlessly, it was also somehow colder than outside in the blizzard.
"Do you hear that?" Graydon asked once they were some way into the mine.
Rattlesnake nodded, all around them were the faint echoes of whispering, a thousand similar yet frighteningly different voices spoke from somewhere deep in the old mine. The deeper into the place they went, the smell of rotting corpses grew stronger and stronger until it was nigh unbearable.
Without warning a cold high-pitched voice hissed from the shadows directly in front of them, "You are not wanted here, man-things."
Rattlesnake pointed his colt walker in the general direction of the voice, "You ain't wanted here either!"
The voice let out a cold laugh, "It is Mother's domain, it was always Mother's domain, never yours man-things."
Rattlesnake glanced back at Graydon, he shrugged.
"I have no idea what the hell it's talking about, these things certainly weren't here when the mine was in operation." He said.
"You dare contradict Mother's word!" The voice roared, "You filthy horrible man-things!
The thing leapt from the shadows, it was even uglier than the outlaw thought it would be. The thing's skin was corpse pale and somewhat reptilian, its face was taken up largely by a maw full of dagger-like teeth, it had a small pig-like nose, it had no ears to speak of only holes situated at different heights on the sides of its head, and its eyes looked very much like a cat's.
Rattlesnake quickly aimed his colt walker and fired, a bullet went hurtling through the creature's head, the lump of metal burst out the other side with a spray of green blood.
The outlaw twirled his gun back into its holster, "Well that's-"
"Man-things! Invaders!" It shouted in a garbled manner, before slumping to the ground.
"Fuck," Rattlesnake said as the thing's last words echoed throughout the mine, causing the incessant whispering to cease.
Silence, then a wave of skittering sounds began, it was the sound of a thousand pairs of claws speeding across stone.
A minute later, one of the creatures burst from the darkness, Rattlesnake drew his left colt walker, pulled back its hammer, and fired, hitting the creature in the chest. It stumbled back, green blood dripping onto the ground, before lunging once again, Graydon fired his Remington model 1858, the creature slumped to the ground.
Rattlesnake set the lantern on the ground in front of him and drew his right colt walker, two more creatures lunged from the shadows. The outlaw pulled his revolver's hammers back and fired, two bullets found their way into each creature's head.
"Come on!" Rattlesnake yelled to Graydon, "You have a free hand, wouldya carry that lantern?"
Graydon nodded, a minute later they were running forward over the corpses, several more creatures appeared, Rattlesnake dispatched them quickly.
"How are you not having to reload?" Graydon asked a few monsters later as he tamped a round down into his revolver's cylinder.
"I don't have to," Rattlesnake spoke, shooting several more creatures as he did so.
"That doesn't make a lick of-" Graydon was cut off by his own scream of pain.
Rattlesnake turned around, one of the creatures had snuck up on them, it had clamped down on Graydon's neck as it clung to him. The shootist took aim with his colt walker and fired, the creature fell to the ground, taking a piece of Graydon's neck with it.
"Shit." Rattlesnake said, "Graydon! Are you still with me?"
"Y-Yeah, I feel real sleepy though," Graydon replied, blood gushing from his neck.
Rattlesnake swore and pulled out a bottle filled with some kind of potion, "Drink this!"
"What is it?" Graydon said groggily.
A creature leapt out of the darkness, ready to clamp its jaws down on Rattlesnake's neck as its fellow had done to Graydon. The outlaw whirled around and clubbed it across the face with his colt walker.
"Just drink it!" Rattlesnake shouted as he began grappling with the creature.
Rattlesnake's hat flew off as he tried to keep the monster's jaws away from him, the outlaw kneed it in the stomach, momentarily stunning the thing. Rattlesnake took this as an opportunity to draw the bowie knife he kept on his belt and ram it through the creature's neck, splattering his face with green blood.
The outlaw panted as he stood up and turned around to look upon a still Graydon, it had been the best he could do, give the man something to dull the pain. Rattlesnake picked up Graydon's gun and placed it in a spare holster stitched into the inside of his buffalo coat. He then placed his hat back on his head, scooped up the lantern, and continued on deeper into the mine.
Nearly thirty minutes later, Rattlesnake had killed many more creatures and was nearing a light, it wasn't a natural-looking light either, being of a bright white.
"Protect Mother! Protect Mother! Protect Mother!" Several more creatures screamed as they ran from the area where the light originated.
By now Rattlesnake had figured out that the easiest way to kill these things was to shoot them in the head, so that's what he did. Four bangs issued from his colt walker and four more creatures joined their fellows in death.
The outlaw reached into his satchel and pulled out a small cast-iron grenade, one of the six made for him by a rather shady blacksmith living in Sacramento. Using his cigarillo, Rattlesnake lit the explosive and threw it into the light where it exploded, killing ten of the creatures.
It was then that a terribly loud roar which caused powder to fall from the ceiling rang through the mine. Several minutes later, six creatures came into view, these were different, they had small horn-like growths on their heads, and were covered in odd chitinous plates.
Rattlesnake fired at one, the bullet pinged off one of the plates and went straight through the head of the creature standing next to it. The outlaw fired five more times. Each time a bullet finding its way into a creature's head through a gap in their armor.
"No!" Boomed a deep gravelly voice from deeper within the mine.
Rattlesnake had no intention of finding out what had just spoken. So he quickly lit his five remaining grenades and chucked them as far as he could into the mine before running in the opposite direction. Five bangs preceded a deep rumbling that echoed throughout the mine, the sound of rock falling and breaking upon more rock grew almost deafening. The outlaw ran for his life as the mine collapsed behind him.
Finally after what felt like an eternity, Rattlesnake skidded out into the snowy outside world. The first thing he noticed was the absence of howling wind and any snowfall.
The outlaw laughed in an almost hysterical manner, taking off his hat and wiping the sweat from his brow, "Good lord, that was fun!"
He continued chuckling as he made his way back to town and up until the moment he stepped through the doorway and into the building home to the town's survivors.
"Winslow! Where's Mr. Graydon?" One of the children, the boy named Aran, asked.
Rattlesnake's mood immediately soured, "Dead, as are the creatures. Your blizzard is gone too."
"I told you those things brought the blizzard!" The little girl spoke, saying something only a child could after learning of someone's death.
Please stay tuned for the next action chapter of Hostis Publicus, the Rattlesnake spinoff!