Death Whispers In The Wind

Prologue

The once-great and reputable Castor Feenix, no longer the young, vibrant and formidable force of nature that he was in his prime years. Now it seems that time has caught up with him, his younger years of bounty-hunting were long gone. How did all those years come and go?

For Castor, he'd felt as though it all went by so damn fast. It seemed like only yesterday when he'd taken up the mantle of Sheriff of Huxebee Creek. Now all these years later he found himself as a Sixty-Eight Year-Old Town Sheriff, still bound by a sworn duty and it would be this heavy responsibility that lead to a chance encounter where he stood defiant in the face of an imposing opposition, an opposition that gravely outnumbered him. It'd been familiar territory for Castor, albeit the Castor in his younger days, Castor of the present day however, tackling such a difficult task such as this altercation could prove to be fatal!

The hard truth of the matter were that Castor understood the weight of his current situation and knew it wasn't in his favor, nothing could be clearer than that. He willingly placed himself in quite a predicament. However tough the theoretical pill would be for him to swallow didn't matter though, even if he were lucky enough to be afforded the chance to avoid the fight, he wouldn't cut and run. This had always been part of his job description and the badge he wore he held in the highest regard and wouldn't allow himself to disgrace what it stood for. It wasn't a viable option for Castor anyways, he'd been backed into a corner of the saloon with no visible way out and it was time to put up or shut up.

In just a few scant seconds, this uneven brawl will begin to unfold in one of two ways, with Castor somehow and someway surviving the ordeal or the latter, the more likely scenario would be him winding up dead from this engagement of conflict, at-odds in this contest of fisticuffs, if you could call it that. No matter how you slice it, a bloody fight for his very life was about to ensue.

"Come on, ya' bunch of cock-sucks!" Castor taunted, masking some of his insecurities and fears with the appearance of a brash confidence.

Castor gave the group of outlaws an attitude of almost brazen confidence, so strong he presented his convictions to the point where it appeared foolhardy, careless even. Some of the men were confused, perhaps asking themselves... why isn't he scared? Don't he know he doesn't stand a chance? Is this old man crazy? It seemed to work, however briefly, as it felt like they were on the cusp and yet, hesitant in taking any sort of sudden action.

"Give it your best, cause that's what its gonna take, ya' hear me?" Castor declared stoically.

One of the men made the first move and lunged toward Castor. The fight to survive had begun as each man circled the Sheriff and took a few swings, wildly throwing punches where some of them missed as Castor sidestepped. But then a couple more thrown punches would connect. 

Castor tried his best to defend himself and mettle with the group of men that would, in short order, eventually lead to him taking one hell of a beating, his chances of getting out of his current predicament unscathed were becoming more and more difficult
as time wore on. He couldn't outlast them forever, there'd be no match being outnumbered four-to-one. This outlaw group of men fighting were out for blood!

From the early goings of their scuffle and within the first couple of minutes, the brawl had initially begun in the foyer of the saloon and then would escalate quite hastily as the fight found its way outside, whereupon the scuffle would then eventually finish in the streets. Castor tried to fight the men off, one-by-one. Briefly holding back the group of outlaws, Castor even somehow managed to get some offense in. But his shining moments of defiance didn't last and were only a matter of time before the group of men got the upper hand on the Sheriff and they did, once the group of men got the jump on him, it was game over for Castor!