He Goes On All Fours - A Western Monster Romance

Regrets and Whiskey

Colt sat on the floor, his red hand bringing a bottle of whiskey up to his dry lips.

His face was paler than ever and his skin drenched with sweat. His eyes carried no life in them, and instead looked around his room in a daze. The poor soul was completely out of it after a full bottle of liquor and an "accident" with his mirror.

He had stormed back home after his discovery and pillaged the place for a beverage. Fortunately for him, his father was nowhere in sight, and he managed to find and steal two big bottles of a wicked drink. Colt then bolted back to his room, shut his door, and proceeded to beat his mirror even after it had been shattered into millions of pieces.

Every time Colt lifted the Whiskey up to his mouth, he could feel the many sharp shards stuck inside his skin. It stung and caused him to grit his teeth, but he didn't care.

Colt had never felt so betrayed, and so alone. His mother was gone, his father never there, and now he discovered the one he cared about was the cause of all his misery. Life truly wasn't fair to him. Perhaps, if he prayed hard enough this time, God would finally have some mercy on his poor soul and end it.

Silence filled the void of his room, lulling him into an almost catatonic state. Overtime, he stopped drinking and got up, cleaning up all the mess he had caused. Like nothing had happened, he got himself undressed for bed and sat at the edge of it, his mind finally settling down into a more calm state.

He couldn't dwell on the past anymore, couldn't hold any grudges. What's done was done, people were terrible. If only he never met that devilish bastard when he strolled into town.

Still...

His mind went back to the time Ezekiel and Jesús told him his bloodline were killers, and that his father was well aware of what had supposedly taken place in the beginning of the town.

Letters, he said...

Colt knitted his eyebrows, his eyes widening suddenly as he recalled what Jesús had told him about sending his father letters. He did remember his dear old father had indeed received letters...which agitated him very much every time he read through them.

Could it be...?

The young man swallowed uneasily as he stood up, pacing the bedroom floor as his anxiety started to pick up. No way was it true. It could've been from anyone- but definitely not from Jesús. Either way, he had no way of knowing. The old man started to burn each one he got- but not the ones in the beginning. Colt had a faint memory of seeing his father hiding a stack full of letters inside a small safe in his office. Perhaps, there lie truth of what was really going on.

Colt couldn't believe what he was planning on doing, and his stomach ached with nerves as he threw his clothes back on. The silence in the house let him know that he was completely alone, but who knew for how long.

The young man refused to stay idle any longer and quickly snuck his way to this father's office. It was closed, of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't get in.

Mr. Townsend kept a spare key just behind a small vase on a nearby table. Colt had seen him pick it up a few times when he had been locked out, and lo and behold, he found it as well. 

Before he could insert the key and turn the knob, Colt hesitated for a moment. If he didn't find anything, then everything he knew of Ezekiel and Jesus was a lie...and he had been a victim of manipulation. If it was true, however...

Colt felt the guilt and worry beginning to gnaw at his heart as he quickly pushed the door open. 

He knew where the safe was and had a faint idea of the numbers needed to crack it open...but was he really ready for the truth?

Yes, yes he was.

Whether the news was good or bad, he had to find some sort of resolution to the pain. 

As if he was being controlled, Colt rushed over to a hidden cabinet and flung it open, his shaky fingers beginning to turn the knob of the safe he had uncovered. His whole body was trembling as he messed up a few times, and despite thinking he could open it, it turned out his memory was scrambled.

The man cursed as he tried to recall the image of him spying on his father through the door crack, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember anything. Realizing he would have to face defeat, Cold began to sulk and prayed for some sort of miracle to occur...and that's when it happened.

He heard a faint whisper from his right ear, something distant and barely audible. At first, he thought it was the wind seeping in through a cracked open window, but the more he paid attention, the more he came to realize it sounded almost like a woman.

Colt felt the hairs on his arm begin to rise as he refused to turn his head and face whatever was beside him.

He heard numbers being repeated over and over. The man didn't know what to think as he shakily turned the knob of the safe with those same numbers. His breathing became more rapid as the whispering only increased, and it came to a sudden halt as soon as the small door finally opened.

By this time, Colt managed to summon a bit of courage and stood up to face whoever was in the room with him. It only made matters worse when he realized he was alone and had been the entire time.

"Just my imagination", Colt spoke out loud in an attempt to convince himself it was all in his head. He returned his attention to the contents of the safe and was both pleased yet nervous with his discovery.

A pack of letters where there, tied up with red string as well as a heap ton of cash. Colt bent down to examine everything, yanking out the letters he was sure hid some dark secret. He stared at them for the longest time, turning them over in his hand. He came to notice some were crumpled up as if someone had angrily scrunched them in their hands.

Colt fumbled with the string, ripping it apart as he prepared to face whatever he would uncover. As he read through each letter, his heart began to sink to the floor.

Time around him grew still, and with it an eerie silence began to hover around.

Colt's vision grew blurry as he wiped his eyes, placing the letters back together and tossing them inside their prison. He shut the door securely, silently making his way out of the office and outside of his family home.

The night was the only thing that could console him as he sat himself down on the front porch with an exhausted sigh. He wished he had a cigarette, a bottle of whiskey, something to ease the sadness.

Colt felt more alone than ever now. The one thing he feared about his father was true. His bloodline was cursed- a family made of killers and liars.

To think that all this time, the Townsends were nothing but thieves. Colt felt dirty as he rubbed his arms, hunching down as the pain in his chest only grew.

He had made a horrible choice siding with his father, and now the one he should have believed was gone.

Ezekiel may have caused his mother's death as well as his own, but he couldn't blame him. If he himself had heard of a family like his, he would curse them all as well. Perhaps, it was best to accept fate and just let his sickness finally kill him. He would stop with the remedies, the fight to hold on just a little longer. Deep inside, despite not knowing of his family's secret, he felt he deserved to die. 

Colt rested his body against the wooden railing beside him. His mind grew quiet as he tried to remember that creature Ezekiel. He imagined him strolling down the middle of the dark town, whistling through the night as he himself blended with the shadows. The smell of those strange herbs which Colt once detested would comfort him and bring him at least a small ounce of happiness... 

He missed him terribly. Perhaps the pain in his heart was well deserved as well.