He Goes On All Fours - A Western Monster Romance

And So it Begins

Ezekiel stood as still as a statue, his gaze focused on the woman at the end of the hallway. She was slim, tall, and beautiful, but her eyes were what entranced him the most.

There was so much anguish and suffering in them, it was like she was screaming at him without even opening her mouth. He twirled the end of his mustache as another man approached him, silently looking down to where he was staring at.

"What is it?" Colt whispered, knitting his eyebrows together as he failed to acknowledge what his companion had been examining for the last minute. Ezekiel continued to watch as the apparition floated away into the other room without ever taking her eyes off of him. Once she was out of sight, he was finally able to speak and did so with a false smile growing on his lips.

"Nothin', darlin'. We will be expectin' some more company tonight."

The dissatisfaction growing on Colt's face was all the sheriff needed to know.

"Really. And do tell me who this individual is, sir."

"You've met him before, most likely. Tall, Mexican-."

Colt cut him off with a loud groan, seemingly unappreciative of the sarcasm dripping from the creature's tongue. He made his way over to an armchair, dropping his frail body on top of it as he raised a napkin to his mouth. Ezekiel could tell the fabric had been used and washed quite frequently. There were a few old blood stains still lingering on it, as well as fresh ones. The smile faded from his lips as he approached the other, resting a gentle, large hand on his shoulder. Colt looked up with heavy, weary eyes.

"Jesús isn't the enemy, Colt. You have every right to dislike him, but there are more important things at play here." Ezekiel started to regret ever telling him he would open up about the situation, and Colt was beginning to regret he had ever asked.

The young man grew wary, but he still tried to appear unbothered. Truth be told, he was nervous beyond anything. His stomach was starting to ache and he felt he would have thrown up on the spot had it known been for Ezekiel's sudden smile. It momentarily threw him off guard, and he tried not to stare for too long.

"Thank you for grinning at my suffering, sheriff."

"If I ever smile at you, it's never to tease."

Colt raised an eyebrow, attempting to ignore the sensation of the other's gaze digging into the side of his skull. He leaned forward, plucking a small cup from the table before him as he leaned back against the armchair. He tried to distract himself with the fireplace beside them, but a sudden thought caused him to turn and make eye contact with Ezekiel once more. He almost jumped from how close the other had gotten to his face.

"I know exactly what you're goin' to say, and before you say it...she is not in my life anymore."

Colt was a little embarrassed by how the other knew he was thinking of the woman that had approached them the day before. It had been stuck in his head all night, and he hated how much it bothered him.

"Well, she was at some point. Not that it matters." He cleared his dry throat as he sipped the tea, breaking eye contact from the other as he attempted to move along from the conversation.

"Darlin', I-."

"Hola."

The two men turned simultaneously to find a dark shadow standing at the entrance of the living room. He yanked the hat from his head, tossing it aside before strolling over like he owned the place. Colt shot up, angrily placing his drink back down on the table before glaring at the sudden guest.

"I see. You think you can just hop right inside like this is your dwelling."

Jesús wasn't even bothered by the angry words being shot at him, and instead looked around as if fascinated by the grandeur of the estate. Once he was done admiring his environment, his attention rested on the small man before him. He lifted a finger to the other's lips, rendering him silent.

"Shh. The door was open."

Colt gasped from shock at the sudden contact, seconds away from slapping the other before Ezekiel intervened.

"That's quite enough, you two. I suggest we move things along before the man of the house returns."

Jesús adjusted his collar, his eyes scanning a line of bottles resting inside a glass cabinet. He nonchalantly began to make his way over, shaking his head along the way.

"I don't want to be here either, niño. You weren't supposed to know anything of this..." he paused to turn to Ezekiel, and his eyes narrowed with discreet annoyance. "It's a mistake."

"It might be to our benefit," the creature retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sure. Then he runs and tells his papi about you, me, and what we told him. After that, it rains blood. This town dies and no one will ever know the truth about this puto."

Colt felt the nerves come back, only this time it was much stronger. He had to take a seat again before he collapsed from the anxiety that was beginning to build up. Just what exactly was going on with his father?

Silence fell among all three, but was interrupted when Jesús began to fumble with the lock on the liquor cabinet. Colt was far too distracted by the issue at hand to even care about what the other was doing. If it wasn't for Ezekiel, however, he would have kicked them all out to save his sanity.

"Colt. Before we explain everythin', you have every right to defend your father. He raised you, and I understand if you refuse to believe us. Just promise you will keep an open mind."

The young Mr. Townsend began to fumble with his napkin, unsure of how to proceed. He trusted Ezekiel...for the most part, but he didn't know if he could trust Jesús. He knew very little about him, so how could he believe whatever the man said?

Despite the alarms going off in his head, Colt decided to place his apprehension to the side and gave a solemn nod of approval. Ezekiel seemed relieved as he made his way beside his favorite human, resting a cold hand on his shoulder. Jesús finally stopped messing with the cabinet as his face grew serious. He turned to stare at the two before realizing it was time for his story to finally be heard.

As he casually pulled a chair to the side and sat himself on it, the memories he had been burying for years finally began to resurface. Jesús never imagined he would be opening up and making himself vulnerable to the bloodline he had cursed, yet there he was. In front of the son of an enemy who was practically his rival as well...

The young outlaw breathed in slowly, his eyes floating over to the fireplace. The sound of the wood dying was peaceful, and in a way it relaxed him just enough to start his tale of woe.

"My great grandfather's name was Antonio. He was a good man, had a wife and child...that was until he came face to face with the devil himself..."