Mike's story for 12/10, Part 2 (Optional)

(NOTE: READ PART 1 FIRST. Click on the archive link to get to the first part of "Voodoo Cowboy." This continues Mike's story. It's not required reading for Thursday, but if you want to see how the story turns out, here it is!)

The air was clean, pure and cleansing tonight. Maybe the earth itself knew that the wrongs that had occurred would be righted. The man inched closer to the bandit’s campsite. They were having a great time at the hard work of others. How many had died the other day for their spoils? How many more would they kill once the treasure ran out? What countless atrocities had these beasts done in the name of their own greed and preservation? Rather than work day in and day out, toiling the very earth for their lives they feasted on others. Well, these parasites would meet other parasites tonight that feed on fear. The man pondered all these things as he moved step by painfully slow step to a large rock, about 4 feet high just a mere few yards away from the laughing drunken thieves. Look at them. Smug, happy, carefree. Now up this close the man finally knew what he was up against. 7. There were 7 of these bandits, and all 7 would die. There were also 4 horses. Luckily their greed would get the best of them. All the horses were loaded up with goods from the village, meaning they had to walk to wherever they were heading to sell the spoils. The man ducked down behind the rock, taking out his weapons. 5 wasps in total. Our hero didn’t know if it was a guarantee that all 5 would kill separate people, but he had to hope. His 5 inch blade that he had stuck in his boot. And his gun. There were only a few rounds, but they would have to do. He had to make the best of his situation. After burying his boy and wife, he searched the houses and the bandits had cleaned the place up. There wasn’t a spare bullet in the entire town.

The man waited, and waited. Was he losing his nerve? No, he had to concentrate. Maybe something will happen to cause disorientation. They were drinking. There was bound to be some problem. The man kept peering over the rock. Drinking, laughing, nothing. Finally, his chance came an hour later. Two of the men were getting into an argument. Our hero listened it but could only hear parts of it, “you think we’re that fuckin stupid!?” “calm down Rich, he said that was only if something happ-“ “I DON’T CARE IF IT HAPPENS! I WANT TO BE SURE I’M NOT GETTING FUCKED ROUND HERE!”

Finally, the chance the man had been waiting for. Two of the men started a fistfight. The other 5 tried to break up the scene. This was it! This was the man’s chance to right the wrongs he had been dealt. The man’s heart leapt in his chest. The wasps started buzzing. “Wait, wait, calm down. Deep breaths. They won’t hurt you. They feed on fear” the man mumbled to himself. Our hero’s palms were sweaty. He slowly raised the jar above his head and threw it towards the bandits. Chaos ensued.

The fight was still going on when the glass jar broke a mere foot away. Startled, the bandits started yelling at what happened. One of the bandits screamed at the wasp that landed on his chest. That’s all the vermin needed. They buzzed wildly, swarming around and flying straight at the screaming man. 1 wasp stung a bandit right in the neck and he started convulsing almost instantly. The two men fighting panicked. The 1st bandit flailed wildly on the ground, kicking up clouds of dust with pink foam pouring from his mouth. The foam quickly turned darker and darker, eventually into blood.

One of the men ran straight away from the main camp and towards the rock our hero was behind. Falling on his ass, the bandit scooted until his back was against the rock. Our hero was right behind him. “No need to waste a bullet on this one” the man said in his head. He pulled the blade out of his boot and stuck it right in the side of the panicked raider’s neck. The bandit’s eyes bulged and started gasping for air. His throat sputtering out little bubbles of air from the blood coming out of his neck. 1 down. The man jumped out from behind the rock and made a mad dash into the fray. By now the wasps had taken out 3 of the men, all of the wasps buzzing and flying wildly, stinging anything with the scent of fear around it. 4 down. The man shot a round into a bandit’s stomach next to the fire. He threw up; his bile and just drunk alcohol being spewed into the campfire. The column of alcohol-vomit turned into a column of flame, erupting towards the man’s face and setting his face and chest on fire. Screaming at the top of his lungs, the bandit crazily started running around, eventually tripping into the fire and setting all of himself ablaze. 5 down. By now the horses were neighing loudly and going onto their hind legs. The man on fire ran towards one of the horses’ cargo, setting that ablaze. The horse had chewed the rope tying it to the tree and took off, flaming cargo lighting up the night sky. A bandit was swatting at the wasps in a desperate attempt to stay alive; dashing away from the camp. Our hero started chasing the bandit down, his hat flying off and landing in a corner of the flames. Our hero threw his knife into the man’s chest and the bandit fell. 6 down. The wasps in their zealotry all had flown towards the bandit on fire; kill themselves trying to stab the screaming man. He must have been in the most fear. 1 left. Our hero surveyed the area. All the wasps were burnt; his hat was on the ground, smoldering in the campfire. The man heard a scrape as the other horses were still neighing wildly. Maybe behind the wagon’s wheel. Quietly, the man got down on his belly and looked underneath the wagon. He could make out some of a leg. Grinning, our hero went back to the bandit with his knife stuck in him. Pulling it out and cleaning it off on his pants in 1 quick motion; he went back to the wagon. Back on his belly, he took aim with the knife. He would throw it into the last bastard’s leg, then sprint around the wagon and kill him.
Just one quick throw…
The knife plunged solidly into the bandit’s leg. As he’s screaming in pain, our hero sprinted around the wagon and for just a split second took pity. Here was lowly scum, writhing in pain, terrified and now knowing he was about to die. Our hero raised his pistol at the curled up man, clutching the blade in his calf. Our hero’s mind filled with the blinding white sun from a desert. His mind was clear and finally ready to end this. 1, 2, 3, rounds go into the last parasite. Blood splatters in a chunky smattering. The wagon wheel was covered in brains and the remains of the last vile scum of the earth. It was over. Our hero was free. The man untied a horse, which was neighing recklessly. He hopped on, grabbing some food and supplies from the wagons. He rode into the dark. Tonight he would sleep without any nightmares. The bandits were all dead, swollen with sores; 1 still crackling in flames. The smell of burning flesh wafted in the cool night air. In the distance, a flicker of light could be seen- the carriage of flames still being pulled by a screaming horse. One look is worth 10 thousand words…



Dear reader, I would prefer this would be the end of our hero, but that is simply not the case. I am a firm believer that once an idea is created, it can only evolve and live its own separate life- regardless if the author wants to kill it. This is not where the story ends for Him, but I felt this was the way I would like everyone to remember him. There is much worse that our hero must endure, and only read on if you want to know the truth of what happens.



The man wanted to do one last thing before he would start a new life- without his wife and child but also without any regrets. He had killed every last one of them. All had gotten what they deserve. But it would not have been possible without Tiaku. Our hero wanted to say his final goodbyes to the bizarre mystic and put an end to a chapter in his life he’d rather not remember. On horseback, it only took that night to reach the town again, but what our hero saw was not at all what he expected.

The man forwent sleep during the night and instead rode. Maybe he was high on adrenaline and the kills he made. Maybe deep down he thought if he went to sleep he would still have his nightmares. Whatever the case, our hero arrived just an hour before dawn to an entire town on fire. “What the hell happened here? Where’s Tiaku?” the man said out loud to himself. Every home was either a pile of ash or burnt rubble. Only the tavern still held some semblance of itself. It was the ‘freshest’ fire. Our hero tied up his horse to a nearby tree and got his gear ready. There was no expecting what would happen. As the man neared the bend to the main square of town he was horrified. Tiaku was on his knees; hovering over a dead body and chanting loudly as the flamed roared. A jar lay open near Tiaku, his flying ‘friends’ were buzzing around him. Suddenly, Tiaku poured a vial of something into the mouth of one of our hero’s dead neighbors. The body started twitching! From twitching came convulsing. And convulsing led to flailing. Finally, the dead body rose. It was Mr. Treecher. Our hero knew him well. He helped deliver our hero’s child into this world. He helped with the building of the tavern. He would drink and play cards with our hero. And he had been dead for days... Now he walked; caked in a mix of dust and blood. His eyes without iris or pupil. Our hero locked eyes onto this soulless abomination who had been his friend. Mr. Treecher howled and Tiaku shot straight up- seeing our hero. Treecher charged our hero and on instinct he fired round after round into Treecher’s skull. The reanimated corpse of Treecher now lay still again, and our hero stared straight at Tiaku.

“WHAT IS THIS!?” the man screamed. Tiaku showed surprise more than anything. That surprise quickly faded to a smirk. “Leestin boy, We helped you cuz We felt bad for what We done. Turn back now or you’ll regret it.”

“You done? What did you do?”

Tiaku’s expression stayed in a state of glee. “Boy, you really think We cared the town was dead? We set it up like dat. Those bandits had no idea this town existed- they came passin’ through and saw ours abode. Dey were gonna steal my tomes. Ours priceless work. We couldn’t be having dat. So We had ‘em spare us. We led em to your town and unleashed em.”

“How could you do that?”

“Not how boy, but why We tink you be askin. You have no idea where We come from. You have no idea what We did before We be comin’ here. Once We went through the portal We decided We was free from those of the Scherain Kingdom. Free to do ours work on necromancy. Free to work on ours alchemy and toxins. We couldn’t just walk into town and kill you all. We didn’t have the numbers- so We worked on ours friends in the meantime. Once the raiders came tho…oh boy, we knew we’d have plenty of corpses. Plenty of bodies to work wit. Plenty of em.”

“W-what portal? What kingdom? What the hell are you talking about!? You let everyone in the town die! YOU KNEW ABOUT THE RAIDERS SO YOU COULD DO YOUR FUCKING EXPERIMENTS!? TO BRING MY FRIENDS BACK TO LIFE? WELL THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SPARE ME!?

“Easy easy boy, We don’t have all day long. We still gots work to be doing. If you must know before you be dyin’, We mighta got a bit greedy. Once We saw you were alive We had a change of plans. Why finish off 1 and let 7 escape when you can save 1 and get an extra 7 to experiment on?”

“Y-y-you brought me back to health so I could kill the raiders? You just wanted their corpses too…”

“Dat be correct boy; and We even know where dey are. It was a surprise seein you before the dawn like this. Cuz you lost your hat. That marble wasn’t a damn good-luck charm. It was a 3rd eye. We just wove it into your hat so We could see what you see. To know where all the 7 new bodies were. The 3rd eye can pick up electric impulses nearby it- which is why We be putting the ‘charm’ o yours in your hat- right near your brain. We could be reading your thought the whole time you were on your journey. See what you see, remember what you remember. Dats why We don’t even know your name. When you made that mad dash to kill one of dem guys. Ooh boy, your hat went into the fire. We couldn’t see a damn thing. Now that the fire’s out at their camp We can see a little bit, but there smoke coverin some of the view. We juss kinda assumed you passed out or be dead since We heard yellin and gunshots after your hat fell in the fire. Couldn’t see anything in the fire though.”

Our hero sank to his knees. “You ratted on this town so the bandits could kill everyone here. Then when you saw me about to die you nursed me back to health….just so you could read my thoughts and see me kill the raiders…for more bodies in your goddamn experiments? You used me to get more corpses; you didn’t give a fuck about anyone here in this town. You just thought we were cattle for your voodoo shit…”

Tiaku stood there, a few feet away from Treecher’s body, and a few more feet from our hero when the worst was about to come. There was shuffling heard but a couple yards away. Small patting noises like a child was dragging his feet. Our hero looked up in horror.

It was Jake. His own son. His flesh and blood that he buried days ago. Completely covered in dirt. His blond hair was now a pink from all the blood covering it. Jake stopped; wide-eyed and motionless. Heavy eyelids hung over his now pure white eyes. More shuffling. More neighbors….more friends…more of the reanimated. There were 8 or 9 others that shambled slowly in between the burning buildings. Harrison…Gunther…Peter…Maria…everyone there he grew up with. Everyone he cared about having a fate worse than death. “Puppets…” the man said. Our hero stood up and made a mad dash to his horse. The dead followed- Jake being in the front. Our hero pulled out 2 of the bandit’s guns and started firing. Treecher was already dead- our hero having to see his whole previous life right in front of his eyes die again... by his own hands. Down went everyone except Jake. Tiaku hadn’t moved since seeing our hero. He patiently watched and waited. Tears streamed across our hero’s face as he saw his own son, a soulless shell hobble towards him slowly. The man closed his eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry”. And put a bullet into his child’s head. Tiaku started clapping.

“Well well boy, We didn’t know if you could do it. These reanimated are juss a start. Once We get to the raider’s camp We be trying to perfect ours art. We sorry, but you have to go now.”

Tiaku focused all his anger towards the man. The wasps that were buzzing around Tiaku flew straight at the man. “They feed on fear; but I’m not afraid. I’m dead” the man murmured to himself as he saw the wasps. Our hero channeled all his sadness, anger, despair towards the witch doctor he once thought as a benevolent guardian. A helper in a bleak world the man saw himself surrounded by. Now he knew better. The witch doctor had created this bleak world all for some warped experiment. The wasps stopped just a few inches away from the man’s face. He could stare into their eyes. Saw that they were confused creatures right now. There was no fear in our hero’s heart. The one directing them had less anger, less pain…was weaker than this one. The man intently gazed at Tiaku and suddenly the wasps knew… Our hero was the new master.

The wasps turned around and headed straight for Tiaku. Tiaku was surprised, “Wait, what you family be doin!?” There was hesitation; there was fear for just a split second in Tiaku. And the parasites knew it. They swarmed him, stinging Tiaku’s face, stabbing him in the eyes. As Tiaku flailed about, screaming in incoherent jargon, our hero walked up to him. Tiaku’s face was starting to swell up and turn red, as were his arms. Tiaku howled and howled until there was silence. The fires were dying down in the town; nothing but bodies strewn about and dawn was approaching. The man left the town and headed for Tiaku’s laboratory. He set it ablaze and watched it burn as the sun came up. The sheet that was covering a green glow was now scorched away. Our hero looked at it in astonishment. It looked like a portal. Was this what Tiaku meant? He stared through it- it showed what looked to be a jungle. There was nothing left for our hero to do. 2 wasps landed on our hero’s shoulders. He was their new master now. Our hero walked through the portal to a new world. To start a new life and whatever it may bring.


But he don’t tink We can’t find him. Oh yes we can. We tell ourselves dis whole story of our hero…. Our villain. We tell ourselves dis whole story to ourselves to remind us of what we have to do. What our villain doesn’t know is dat he might have our bees but We were stung hundreds of times. We have an anti-venom in ours immune system. The swelling has gone down and We will track our villain to the ends of the earth. What do you think of this Tiaku? We feel bettah. We feel telling this story to ourselves makes us feel alive again and have the new purpose. Well our villain…We will get ours revenge.

-Tiaku journal entry #1