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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Dark · #2120835
A female bounty hunter struggles between delivering needed frontier justice and love.
          The sun's heat beat down on the back of her neck like ten thousand needles. The river of sweat that ran down her face scorched every pore as it flowed downward. She started thinking maybe she had offended a sun deity and this was the wrath.
         She almost envied the dead corpse of the outlaw that her horse dragged behind them. The corpse did not seem to mind the last two hundred miles of savage heat as they approached El Paso, TX.
         It was hard to imagine her full structure while on horseback. This huntress stood at six feet seven inches. Her jet black hair matched the coals in her eyes that she stared at the El Paso population with.
         It is rumoured that she is the daughter of outlaw Jim "Killer" Miller. She was present to witness Killer Miller's cruelty when he murdered his grandparents. She was hiding in the closet when she heard the gunshots and the collapsing of the bodies of her great grandparents. She was five years old at the time but she still recalls the chill that ran up her spine like it was a moment ago. On that day she vowed to never standby helpless again. She promised her great grandparents that their murderer and all other murderers would receive her wrath.
         She has since kept her word, chasing the wretched from the Dakotas to Brownsville,TX. When justice finally came to Jim "Killer" Miller, she was present. She was waiting for any sign of remorse or sympathy as they locked stares. There was no sorrow in the eyes of Killer Miller. She even thought he would apologize, but Miller's final words were, "Let yer rip", as he kicked the chair beneath him and hung himself. Maybe in hell she thought, she would have to settle for the sound of his snapped neck as his apology.
         She finally arrives at the sheriff's. The Huntress pulls out the wanted poster out of the pocket of her black duster. There are specks of blood and dust on the poster, small price to pay she tells herself and heads into the jailhouse.
         "Outside is the corpse of John " the Cannibal" Walker", says the Huntress and hands the sheriff the wanted poster.
         "How can I be sure?", asks the sheriff.
         "I killed him at dinner a few days ago. In his gut, you will find an undigested eyeball and some fingers of a gambler that got dealt a bad hand", replied the Huntress.
         "Sounds like a job for the undertaker if you ask me", uttered the sheriff. The sheriff then made the sign of the crucifix with his right hand and thanked God that one of hell's horde was brought to justice. The Cannibal of the Dakotas was now dead.
         "I believe that we owe you five thousand dollars and the world owes you it's eternal gratitude", said the sheriff.
         "I will take the five thousand dollars and a dinner salad. Unlike Walker there, I am a vegetarian. Oh maybe some whiskey to chase down that salad", said the Huntress fully gratified.
         "Sure thing Mary Ann", replied the sheriff, quickly realizing his mistake. Never give a huntress a name.
         The Huntress quickly reacts with both of her 1851 Navy Colt revolvers and points their thirteen inch cannons at the sheriff.
          " The name is Huntress. That is my occupation and the only name that I will answer to, Sheriff", hissed the Huntress as she put away her Colt revolvers.           Before the sheriff could say anything she interjected, " Mary Ann died with her great grandparents."
          The anger in her voice made the sheriff realize to be careful next time he opened his mouth.
         " Do not turn me into one of them sheriff. I lost my family and my name to outlaws. Do not make me lose my humanity", said the Huntress.
          "I am sorry, Huntress. It will never happen again. I believe that you can never be one of them. You were put here to destroy monsters not become one of them", replied the sheriff.
          "I am sorry also, Sheriff. Mary Ann was the scared little girl unable to save her great grandparents from such a monster", answered the Huntress with a sadness in her voice.
         "You were five years old. You were unable to fight the demon disguised in your father`s flesh. He easily killed grown men. You would not have stood a chance", refuted the sheriff.
          " I could have bought my great grandparents some more time", replied the Huntress.
          " You need to forgive yourself. Come let's get your reward and I will get dinner", said the sheriff, happy not be dead.
          " I would to bathe off the dirt and sweat from this last job. I think that I have some of Walker's blood on me also", quoted the Huntress.
          " Very well, Huntress. I also hope you have energy for dancing. It would be my pleasure if you joined me at the Black Bart's Saloon tonight", asked the sheriff.
         " I have traveled hundreds of miles in desert heat with a dead outlaw. Of course, I would love to dance, Sheriff ", replied the Huntress trying to hold back a smile.


         The Well's Hotel has always treated her good. There was a tub of hot water and soap when she entered her hotel room. She wasted no time, she was nude in about ten seconds. The hot water was a blessing. She just wanted to forget about the desert heat and John Walker. She tried to forget the night of their confrontation, she caught Walker eating the face of that gambler, mouth full of blood as she challenged him to a gun fight. She wanted to kill him where he sat but she was no cold blooded murderer. Even murderers had the right to defend themselves.
         Walker never stood a chance against the Huntress though. Walker's revolver was barely halfway out of it's holster when the deadly projectiles from the 1851 Navy Colt revolvers reached his heart, exploding it upon impact. The cannibal hit the ground dead in mid chew. His mouth opened up on impact and a partially chewed human finger fell out.
         Next question was, what to do with the reward money. Maybe a new dress or a new leather straddle for Orion, her faithful hunting horse. Definitely a new dress. Tonight she will be using the blue and white lace dress that she has had for over three years now. The day she bought that dress may have been the last time she and the sheriff danced together.
         That night still stirs in her head for two reasons: that was the last time the sheriff proposed marriage to her and she had gotten back from Arizona with the body of the Tombstone Ripper. After riding for two weeks, she finally caught up with the Ripper on the edge of town. Poor folks of Tombstone, never realizing that their beloved metalsmith was murderer. He was on his way to delivering some horseshoes to a very famous sheriff. He never made the delivery, the Huntress got him a shot to the throat.
         On the subject of marriage, she knows that she never can. With no one to care for, she can never be swayed by those who seek to destroy her and all life itself. She dreaded the thought of devil's brood torturing and murdering her beloved sheriff just to punish her.
         She remembers the sheriff`s very words: Marry me Huntress and stop the bounty hunting. I can take on an extra job if need be. Maybe work at Black Bart's as a bartender. Who would dare try and kill the sheriff off duty.
          She only replied: the devil, for ridding this world of his brood. They would come after you in every wretched and evil human form possible. I love you as a friend and a fellow hunter of the wicked. I could never live with myself if I was responsible for your death.
         The sheriff only refuted: I can take care of myself.
She shed a tear that night and also tonight because she knows one day it will happen, it always happens, they take the ones you love first.
         The Huntress raised herself from the tub, she let the soap suds travel down her nude body. She let out a smile as she thought about spending the night with her sheriff. The man that arrested her heart.
         She stepped out of the tub and reached for the blue and white lace dress, she heard gunshots ring out in the direction and distance of Black Bart's Saloon.          The Huntress only prays that it is not what she thinks........

















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