Thread: Angel of Death
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Old 12-30-2007, 04:39 PM
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Location: Backwoods of Arkansas
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Angel of Death

Part One

Kelly Hudson pulled her families wagon up in front of Foster's Mercantile & Dry Goods. She had received word that the furnishings her mother had ordered had arrived. Plus, the ranch was running low on supplies and she volunteered to get them all at once. Though she was wore a dress, the pistol hanging from her took all the attention away from it. But this was something that the townspeople had gotten use to seeing from her. She had started this unwomanly habit some four years back when her father had insisted that she be able to protect herself when no man was there too. It had all been thanks to Lee Foster, the eldest son of the couple who owned the mercantile. He had broke into her bedroom while the ranch slept and had tried to have his way with her. Had he not uncovered her mouth long enough to try and remove her nightgown, she wouldn't have been able to scream and thus save herself, and her virtue, from him. She had only been sixteen then and Lee had been ran out of town. Not even his family wanted to have anything to do with him after that.

Kelly's long auburn hair bounced as she hurried up the few steps. She nodded at the tall, lean, and handsome as sin man that was leaned up against one of the post before entering the store. Once inside, she smiled at the youngest Foster child, and her best friend, Hannah. But when Hannah didn't say a word, but hurried around the counter to her, she knew something was wrong. In a low voice, Hannah exclaimed, "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here today!" "Why not," she said in her normal voice. "SSSHHH," her friend hushed as she shoved her back out the open door. "He's here," Hannah whispered, pushing a stand of red hair back for her face. "He's here," she asked, shaking her head as she did. "Lee," Hannah answered. "Oh," she said, now understanding her friend's urgency in rushing her out the door. "Just leave your wagon," Hannah said, "and I'll have one of the boys bring it and the furnishings out later." "Here," she said, shoving the shopping list into Hannah's hand, "this is our list of supplies we need."

Kelly and Hannah both stiffened when they heard a voice coming from inside the store. "Well. Well. Well," Lee Foster said as he walked through the open door. "What have we here?" He leaned his tall, muscle body against the door frame. Her eyes locked with his, but his eyes didn't just land on her face. They made a long scan up and down her body. She felt like a piece of meat in front of a starving wolf. Both Kelly and Hannah sucked in a deep breathe as he stepped towards them. "MMM," he moaned as he leaned down to look her in the eyes, "You have blossomed out nicely, Kelly." "It's Miss Hudson, too you," she said, bring herself up to her full heighth, trying not to let her fear show. "Please, Lee," Hannah begged, "you know that you're not suppose to be around her. Do you want the sheriff, her father, and brothers all after you again? Not to mention our own paw and brothers. This time they won't just have you ran out of town, they'll hang you."

Kelly knew how that deep down, all the Fosters loved Lee, even with what he had done to her. The desperation in Hannah's voice was clear as crystal. Lee brought his hand up to her check, but she moved backwards out of his reach. She saw the fury rising up in his eyes as he said low enough for just them, and anyone close to them, to hear, "The next time Kelly, I won't fail in having you. Only the next time, I'll see to it that we're married. That way, your meddleing family can't interfere." Out of the corner of her eye, Kelly notice Mr. Foster standing just inside of the store. "I'll never marry you, Lee," she said loud enough for him to hear. "I'll never marry and you'll never have what it is you're wanting from me." She felt Lee's hand on her upper arm. "You WILL know what it's like to have me between your legs, Kelly," he said, still in a low tone. His hand squeezed harder and harder as he spoke, "You will know what it feels like and you will enjoy every single minute of it. And it won't be just one time, but several times." He smiled. "Several times a day, week, month, year. Get the idea?"

Angel Slaughter had been leaned up against the post in front of the mercantile and has witnessed the entire scene as it unfolded before him. He now stepped forward to aid the young woman with the auburn hair. With a gun in his hand, he pushed it into the man's back. "I believe the young woman is through speaking with you," he said; his deep voice low and laced with a tone letting everyone listening that he meant what he said. "Look mister," Lee said, having to look up at him from over his shoulder, "this doesn't concern you, so why don't you just run along before you get hurt. This is between me and my woman." "From the sounds of it," he said, pushing the gun a little harder into the man's back and cocking the hammer, "she doesn't consider herself your woman. Now it's very clear that she doesn't want anything to do with you, so why don't you just run along before YOU get hurt."

"What's going on here," a man's voice asked from behind him. Angel watched as the young women stepped to the man. "Sheriff. Sheriff," they said in unison. They then began to explain what had happened. The small crowd that had gathered around was adding to it by saying, "That's right" or "He started it, Sheriff" as they pointed to the man he held at gunpoint. "Alright mister," the sheriff said as he place his own gun in Lee's back, "I'll take it from here. Thanks for stepping in to help the ladies here. I'm grateful, as I'm sure they are too."

Angel watched as the burly sheriff took away the man. "Are you ladies alright," he asked as he holstered his gun. "Yes," they stammered. The red headed one nodded and sat down on the steps in front of the store. The other, the one that had been accosted, leaned back against the building. It was obvious that she forgot about the pistol strapped to her hip. Her face was ghostly white and her breathing was fast and deep. "Easy," he said to her, "you'll pass out." She half smiled as she looked up at him. "Thank you very much, sir," she said; some of the color coming back as she spoke. "I am in debt to you Mr...., er, Mr...." "Angel," he said. "Mr. Angel," she said with a smile. It was now his turn to smile. "No ma'am," he said, "just Angel." "Angel. Angel," the red head sitting on the steps said. He turned towards her as a smile came across her face. "I know you," she said, looking up at him. "You're Angel Slaughter. The one they call 'The Angel of Death'."

Damn how he hated that name. It was bad enough that his father had left when he learned that his mother was pregrant. And that she had named him "Angel" because she said that "he was her little angel". Or that his last name was Slaughter, which was just what he done to alot of men. But to be called "The Angel of Death" was more than he could take. For fifteen years as a hired gunman, this name had been what he was known by everywhere. He had to admit though, it was a lot easier to bring in some of the men he hunted down. His reputation as "the Angel of Death" seem to put fear in most men and they came along peacefully. And the women. The women just wanted him so that they could say that they had had "the angel of death" between their legs and survived. But now. The way this young woman said it, it sound as if it was the plague itself.

Angel was brought back to where he was when one of the red head asked, "What brings you to our town..., er..., Angel?" The giggle she gave at saying his name was the same as all the other women's. "I'm here to help a Mr. Henry Hudson," he answered. "Why that's my father," the auburn hair one said. "What does he want with you?" He looked Miss Hudson straight in the eyes and said without flinching, "He's hired me to protect you."
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