Hello again folks, and Welcome to another edition of Hamm3rtym3 Presents.
For previous chapters, copy and paste these in your browser
http://comicbookmovie.com/fan_fic/news/?a=25920
http://comicbookmovie.com/fan_fic/news/?a=25982 part 2
I have a request for you readers. Please help me spread the word, as I can't comment on any articles. I think this story is enjoyable to read for just about anybody. Also if you guys know any artists who might like to help me turn this words only story into a comic/graphic novel, that'd be awesome. A way for the artist to show off his work, as well as a way for to entertain you all with my stories. Thank you.
Now on to the Story!!
"Now you need to trust me as I have trusted you, Ak'is." His words suprised me. "The horses needed to drink, so I took them to a nearby stream while you slept." Raven had come back, with both horses looking well rested and ready for a long day's ride.
Of course, I thought to myself, I had to jump to the most cynical conclusion. What was it that was wrong with me to automatically assume the worst in everybody. Had my father's disappearance all those years ago killed my trust in man?
"After you fell asleep last night, I spoke with the spirits of my ancestors." Raven spoke, an airy quality to his voice that led me to belive he had no reason to lie. "The same ancestors of the men whose lives we claimed here last night." "They spoke to me about you, Coop."
"What about me?" I wondered aloud. Why would spirits and ghosts of some dead indians talk about me? what was so special that it warranted a conversation from the afterlife.
"They told me that in your actions, that by sparing the life of a misguided youth, that you have shown great character." "They want to thank you, and offer you a gift."
"A gift?" I inquired, curious as to what kind of gifts dead people send. But what he gestured towards let me know instantly, that his spirit guides were something not to be brushed off and taken light;y. As I took sight of this other worldly gift, Red broke my daze of wonderment.
"They gave him a horse?"
But this wasnt just any horse. He was majestic, strong, and beautiful. He was large and muscular, his mane and tail were long and had a shine to them. He was as black as coal, save for two silver stripes in his mane, and one in his tail.
I slowly walked over towards him. There was something in the ways his eyes looked that secretly frightened me. As I looked into his eyes, he looked into mine, into my soul, right into my fear, and stood up hind legs, whinnying loud and powerfully. As his hooves came down on the ground, they made tunderous noise. This horse was not going to be ridden by just anyone. He was wild, a Bronco.
I slowly, but calmly and steadily, made my way towards him, but he stood his ground. Raven, footsteps silent, came closer to me, handing me a rope Red has just expertly fashioned into a lasso. He moved it closer to my hand, whispering to me, "You have to claim him on your own, I can go no closer." Perfect. Me, a rope, and the largest most muscular horse I've ever seen. The thought that i had even had breakfast yet amused me, only slightly lowering the tension I felt. The whole time the steed just stood there, watching intently, waiting for me to make my move.
I took aim, raised the rope high above my and swung it about in preperation of letting it fly. Tried to time it just right, so I could rope him, then spend more time trying to get on, then tame and avoid being kicked off ans trampled to death.
I let the rope fly, but missed. He streaked off away from, faster than I've ever seen any living thing move. Giving chase, I heard Red yell out to me, "Stay close to him, we'll corral him back towards the valley, he wont have no room to do too much running in there."
I bolted after him, pushing my legs as fast as they could go, trying desperately just to keep him in my sights. I heard Red flank around to my left, Raven to my right, both of them narrowing down the area this horse had to run.
the black beast got a bit of bravery then. He saw our pattern, he knew what we were planning, and he was not going to be cornered. This was his land, his home, we were invaders.
Suddenly, he changed course, and came running directly toward me. I wrapped part of the rope tightly around my hand. i had one shot to attempt this. I had to time this just right. Standing my ground, I ducked low, waiting for him to get close enough. I made sure that he saw the look in my eyes, and for the first time, I saw the fear in his.
As he got close, he suprised me by jumping directly over me, but I was ready. I slipped the open lasso over his muzzle, and braced hard.
The rope pulled taught, and my arms were nearly ripped from their sockets. Instantly, it tightened around his snout, and he began to drag me behind him. Not letting my grip loosen, I pulled myself up to my feet, trying to plant them hard in the ground, but they were just skiing across the rocks and dirt.
Ahead of me, I saw a large boulder sticking out the ground, and as he ran me to it, I planted my feet firmly on it. When I braced against it, my leg muscles straining, his heard jerked down and around towards me. I took this oppurtunity and leapt on top, wrapping my arms around his neck, and held tightly as he began flailing and bucking.
I held on as if my life depended on it. In this case, It did. After what felt like hours but was more likely no more than a minute, he calmed. He was defeated. He was mine.
I tied the rope off into makeshift reins, ready to go on a trial ride so him and I could get more aquainted with each other. I could feel his powerful muscles between my legs, and felt he wanted to run. We took off tearing through the desert. I could hear Red and Raven hooping and hollerin' in celebration. Cries of "Hot Damn, boy!" and "That was one hell of a move there, Coop!" rang out into the desert morning.
We tore off at breakneck speed. This beast was fast! No, fast didnt say it. He moved at least twice the speed of any horse i'd ever seen before. The greek god Hermes himself would have impressed by this majestic creature.
While I spent time out running Silverbolt (a name i felt was all too fitting), Raven and Red had managed to resize the saddle I had used for the pinto. Arriving back at our camp, I dismounted, and hoped Silverbolt wouldn't run off. To my suprise, he stayed. He didnt flinch once as I saddled him, and adjusted the reins i had used on the pinto. Raven said he preferred to ride bareback, he said it allowed to connect more with the animal spirit.
Several hours later, hen our horses had tired of running, we walked along, and it was here that Raven told us the story of how he managed to commune with ancestral spirit guides of his people.
"At the time when I first became a man, I had to leave my village on a spiritual journey." "this journey was for me to find the man I would become, to find myself, and my name." "Before my journey, my mother had only referred to me as 'Little One'." "I spent three days survivng on plant roots alone, until I came across a steed no noble, killing him would have felt like an insult to nature." "Instead, I followed him, watching him, learning the way he lives, until one night when a pack of wolves had tracked him too."
As we rode, he told us all about how the wolves had tried to take the buck down, and how it had defeated all but one wolf. one that had hidden in the trees and waited until its packmates had fallen. As it attacked, Raven had interfered, saving the lives of both animals by pulling the wolf off of the deers neckand wrestling him down, and wrapping his arms around its head, knocking it unconcious.
The deer had sustained severe injusries in the form of bite marks on its neck, and Raven had given up pieces of his own clothing to tie off and stop the bloodflow. As the deer had started to slip from life, Raven connected with its soul. He said it was then that the spirits spoke to him, and told him that he had been noticed, and his actions were pure. They had called him a watchful protector in the night. They had given him the name Raven.
Then his voice took on a more solemn tone. He told the story of how, several years later, he went off one night to try to find the spot where he had once talked to his ancestors' spirits.
When he finally found it, he spent a week trying to get them to speak to him again. It was only after he gave up, and returned home that he noticed the 3 Apache men running from his village.
Tears began to sweel in his eyes as he told us of how he had found almost every one in his village slain in their sleep, most of them had theeir throats slit open, and a few had the tops of their scalps cut off and peeled halfway back, exposing their skulls.
He then told of how he fell to his knees, the overwhelming feeling of helplessness taking over his body. It was then, he said, that the spirits made contact with him once again, and he begged them for the power to heal his loved ones.
For some reason, they gave him his the tools to heal his people, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't revive any of them. Before their spirits could pass over into the next realm, their bodies had to be laid to rest.
Again, he asked for help from the spirits of his ancestors. He had asked them for a way he could tribute their bodies, yet fast enough that he could find retribution for his people. Again, the spirits had gifted him with the ability to do this.
After laying to rest all of the members of his tribe, he gathered only what he needed and could carry in the sack he carried on his hip, strapped over his opposite shoulder. He then spent the next few weeks tracking the three men on foot.
He said the ancestors came to him again when he saved my life, and had blessed him nito knowing our language, so he could communicate with us in our language.
It was then that Red and I explained to Raven what we out to do. We told him of Vincenzo Calantini, the man whose bounty we were aiming to collect. He was wanted for twelve murders in Texas, six in Nevada, and another nine in California.
Red then began to tell us that Vinnie was an italian immigrant who had fought for the union during the civil war, then after he saw the devestation from the Battle of Centralia, where 123 of the 155 union soldiers were out gunned by no more than 80 confederates armed with quick shooting revolvers. Vinnie had been bathed in the blood of his brothers. All but two of his friends had been killed in front of him, with he himself took a bullet to the shoulder.
"My old man survived that same battle, and he didnt become a murderer." I stated defensively.
"Neither did Vinnie," Red replied, "or me."
Red then told us the story of Him, my father, and Vinnie got seperated from their company during the battle, got lost, and travelled east. He had said that the they had reached Pennsylvania by the time Vinnie's wound had pumped out a fatal amount of blood.
It was then that I knew what it was that made my father, a rancher from Texas who married a woman from New York, return home after the war a changed man.
Duke had tried to help Vinnie, but Red had convinced him there was nothng more they could have done. They had said their goodbyes, and left the man to die.
Red didnt know how Vinnie had survived, nor why he had moved out west. All he knew for sure was that Vinnie had a goal, and whatever it was, he would not stop killing untilhe achieved it.
"They caught him once, ya know," Red had said, a slight amusement in his voice. "Over west in California." "the Sherrif, 6 of his deputees, and 2 other prisoners were found dead in the jailhouse a week later." "they said that Vinnie couldn't have done it," "The way those bodies were mauled, it was as if a bear or a pack of wolves had ravaged the place."
"So you think vinnie has a pet bear?" I mocked, "A big ole mean fella to come eat and kill 9 men and help him escape jail?"
"I don't know how he did it, Coop." "I just know that they said those bars were made out of solid steel, but had just been broken and bent outwards from his cell." "Bullet casings were found everywhere, as well as bloody slugs, yet no animal bodies were recovered." "The only man from that building not torn to shreds is Vinnie."
"I have heard of tales not too different from what you describing," Raven chimed in. "We call them skinwalkers." Men who can take on the form of an animal." "Monsters whose only goal is bloodshed, and who can not be killed by a simple knife or bullet."
The thought disturbed me. A week ago I would have brushed the notion off as a story indians tell to their children to prevent them from wandering at night. But meeting Raven, and witnessing firsthand what he is capable of, made me believe that he knew it was somehow possible.
"So if Vinnie is a skinwalker, how do we kill him?"
"For the answer to that, Coop," Red replied, "we're going to see the priest."
to be continued.....