Erron rode through the night, barely able to see due to the dirt picked up by the heavy winds. He didn't need to see, though. He knew the path back home like it was the back of his hand. He just hoped his father was still there, and alive. Ever since he left, he dreamed of being able to kill him. Every day, he wished he could see a bounty poster with that ugly face on it; wouldn't it be so much sweeter to get paid for his revenge?
His horse trotted through the forest, snaking through trees and brush. Erron looked up at the night sky for a moment, pondering what Nightwolf had told him. What was going to happen if he killed his father? It's the best thing that could possibly happen for him, the final piece of his past severed off. He could finally live a new life and be completely detached from that no good son of a bitch. Erron reared up his horse, seeing the glow of the house he was looking for. He carefully let his horse trot closer, stopping him a few feet in front of the entrance. Erron hopped off his horse, his hand traveling straight to the gun in his holster. He slowly crept to the door, taking a breath. The sounds of the wind silenced to him, as he calmed himself completely. He slid the revolver out of his holster, checking it's ammo. No time better than the present, he supposed. With a final breath, he kicked in the door, his gun leading into the house.
"Who the hell are you?!" His father yelled, falling from his chair. He is too weak to get up, propping himself up on his elbows to see the man standing before him. He recognized the gun in the man's hand; it was his. "How the hell did you get that?" He questioned.
"Oh pa, you don't remember?" Erron said slyly, pulling his mask down to reveal his face. He looked down on his father, who looked incredibly sickly. He had lost seemingly hundreds of pounds, with only patches of hair left on his head. How could this be wrong, Erron thought, he must be doing this poor bastard a favor.
"Erron? Is that you?" His father asked, taken over by shock. "By god son, where have you-"
"With people who actually give a damn about me." Erron interrupted. "I came to pay you back for all those beatin's you gave me." He chuckled a bit. "Looks like God may have beat me to it."
"Erron…Erron, you know I love you, I-"
"Save it! You killed ma, you beat me every damn day, the best day of my life was the day I left!" Erron yelled, pointing the revolver at his father.
"The day you left was the day I realized where I went wrong…I quit drinking, I changed!" He sighed. "Then I got this damn Mountain Fever…I've been stuck here." Erron let the man talk, wanting to hear how he'd try to get out of this. "I heard your name all the time. Big bad Erron Black, greatest bounty hunter in the state. I was so proud." Erron was taken aback by that comment, feeling his hand start to shake. "Look Erron…I know I wasn't good to ya…but when we lost your ma-"
"When you killed her." Erron interjected, shakily.
"I didn't kill her, god damnit!" His father yelled. There was a distinct silence for a moment, as though the world stopped to watch this interaction. "The law wanted her, some robbery she ended up in to support you. Damn sheriff shot her right in front of me.." his lip quivered a little at the memory. "I told you I killed her because I didn't want you thinking she was some criminal." Erron listened intently, feeling his whole body start to shake. His chest felt like it was caving in, with all the emotion he was feeling at once. He still had his gun trained on his father, though. "Son, I'm sorry…I shouldn't have taken it all out on ya." Erron felt tears start to well up in his eyes. "I understand what you've come to do. And I deserve it. Just know son…I love you."Erron felt the conflict in his heart. He wiped his face, taking another breath.
"I love you too, pa." He said quietly, before squeezing the trigger and shooting his father through the heart. He stood there for a moment, letting the gunshot ring in his ears. He stared at the body of his father, lifeless on the floor, blood beginning to pool around him. Erron finally let his arm drop, a few tears falling from his face. He wiped them away, holstering his gun. He tipped his hat slightly, turning around and exiting the house. The wind had stopped, the night was silent and the sky was clear. He looked up at the moon, feeling like Nightwolf was looking down on him. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "It had to be done."