Wild Western: Black Wind, Bleeding Kansas

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I think the sooner this war is over, the better it'll be for everybody- not just slaves.

I stand very still in the darkest corner of the darkest room of this old plantation house- the library. It ain't much to look at these days. It's been pretty well looted by Border Ruffians and Free-Staters alike as they come through looking for "hospitality" to resupply they needs. I think the sooner this war is over, the better it'll be for everybody- not just slaves.

The war ain't over yet though, and the Ruffians still trying to hold onto they right to have slaves while the Free-Staters want that right to go away. And they trying to round up any runaways they can get they hands on. And if you a free black not working in they fields, then you must be a runaway. I ain't been a slave in a long time- since well before this Border War started. Not since... well, it was a dark night then too, pretty much like this one.

The moon is near full, but it's hidden behind clouds that have been threatening to storm all day, so it's no help to anyone for lighting the house. Which is good for me, since there are a dozen Ruffians inside looking for me right now. Not just because they think I'm a runaway slave, but also because they think I'm the one they've called Black Wind. A marauder and a thief of slaves who comes and goes like a night wind. A killer with dozens of men's blood on his hands.

...they think I'm the one they've called Black Wind.

And they right. That's me.

Candlelight flickers at the doorway before one of the men hunting me stalks into the room. All but my eyes are hidden behind a bandanna that is the same black as my clothes, hat, and boots. That's right, even the boots- it cost a lot to have the leather dyed, but when I started hearing what they say about me, I thought maybe it might help if I looked like what was scarin' 'em.

It helps me blend into the shadows too. The shadows that the candlelight's not getting very far into- not that it would matter. I'm beside the man before he has a chance to notice. I stick my knife through the bottom of his mouth, douse the candle with my hand, and watch the light go out in his eyes. I lower him to the floor quietly, and hope I can get done with all this before he get cold.

He shouts as we fall together to the floor.

I move quickly through the foyer, breaking the neck of the man that was left to guard the door before he can see me since he don't have a candle. I pass into the parlor, and walk right up behind a man who decided to sit on a couch and wait for the others to find me. I cover his mouth with one hand, and plunge my knife into the top of his head with the other. I push him over on his side like he sleeping, and pinch the wick of his candle so the light go out. I cross the room to the doorway leading to the dining room, and run right into another man searching without a candle. He shouts as we fall together to the floor. I scramble to straddle him, and punch him hard in the face, knocking him out, and then breaking his neck.

I hug the wall and blend in with the shadows as the other men head my way. I hear 'em on the stairs, across the ceiling from the second floor, banging through the kitchen, and even a couple coming in through screen doors from outside. "He's this way!" one of them shouts. I head toward them, drawing my gun.

I shoot two men on the stairs- one at the bottom, and one about midway down. A shot clips my hat from the right, taking a piece off the brim. I back into a doorway by instinct, and take a shot down the hall that catches him in the cheek and through the back of his head.

"Hey, boy! Where'd you go? You better come out!"

Another shot whizzes by me from behind. I drop to the floor and blend into the darkness. The gunman shoots in that direction, but when he doesn't hit anything he shouts, "Hey, boy! Where'd you go? You better come out!"

I don't answer. He listens nervously as he hears a man cry out in pain from a bedroom. He hears two more shouts as I end men in the hallway. And he shoots one himself when he mistakes him for me as he enters the room.

"Boy! Where you at? You come out now, boy!" he screams, clearly afraid.

From the darkness, I growl, "You sure that's what you want?"

He jumps and shoots in the direction of my voice. "We gonna kill you, boy!"

"What we?" I ask from another spot. "It just you, now."

He whimpers and shoots in my direction again. "You may as well give up, boy! There ain't nowhere else to run!"

"Who's runnin'?"

From behind him, I whisper, "Who's runnin'?"

He whips around and fires, but I just smile beneath my bandanna. I club his hand with my gun, and he drops his weapon. He screams, and I knock him to the floor. As I drop on top of him to hold him down, he screams, "Who are you?"

I lean into his face, and growl, "You know who I am! Say it!"

"Ohhh," he moans. "You are him! You're that Black Wind fella! But I shot you! Why ain't you dead?" he pleads, plainly terrified.

"Mist," I answer, knowing he won't get my joke. Just then, thunder crashes, and the clouds finally let they rain go like they been bustin' to do all day. It's loud, and pounds the ground and roof hard.

For a moment, I'm distracted by the ferocity of the storm, and the lightning flashing outside. I feel the man's body go limp under me, and I figure he done fainted. I look back at him though, and another flash of lightning shows me that his eyes still open. Died of fright right there.

This was over quick.

I stand up off the man, and look around. This was over quick. I walk back through the house silently, making sure I haven't missed nobody. I get back to the library, and find myself standing over the first man I killed. I look at him for a few seconds, and kneel down so I can feel his face. Just like I hoped, this all got finished before he got cold.

I pull the bandanna off my face, and let it hang around my neck. I take a long, deep breath through my nose, tilting my head back as I take in the smell of blood, candle wax, and gunpowder around me. I roar as I let my teeth grow out, and I fall upon the man's neck to feed. I'll do the same with his friends, and then I'll sleep. And tomorrow night, the Black Wind will blow again.

Story and characters owned by Chris Bishop, copyright 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.

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The Origins Behind the Origins (or how some of these characters got their names):

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