The Old West

De: W. G. Sweet

Narrado por: Virtual Voice

The Old West is a collection of five western themed stories set in the old west. Come along for an authentic trip through the west, the way it really was.

Jimson Jones, Sarah Johnson, The Cowboy, The Farmers Wife, To Hang a Thief
An excerpt from: Sarah Jones

One starless night, the tranquility of Harmony Creek was irrevocably broken. The rhythmic chirping of crickets was replaced by the terrifying sounds of shattering glass and panicked screams. A nightmare descended upon the peaceful farm. The familiar comfort of home was replaced by a brutal violence, a darkness that would sear itself into Sarah's memory forever.

The splintering of wood was the first sound, sharp and sudden, slicing through the suffocating silence of the night. It was followed by a guttural yell, a sound both animalistic and chilling, that ripped through the stillness. Sarah, jolted awake from a dream of sun-drenched fields and carefree laughter, sat bolt upright in her bed.

Before she could fully process the fear that clawed at her throat, another sound shattered the fragile peace – the shattering of glass, followed by the terrified scream of her mother.
The sounds intensified, morphing into a terrifying symphony of violence. Shouts, curses, the thud of boots on the wooden floor, the metallic clang of steel – each sound a hammer blow against her fragile sense of security.

Three figures, silhouetted against the flickering light of the kerosene lamp, were engaged in a brutal struggle with her parents. One, taller than the others, with a cruel sneer etched into his hidden face, held a knife, its gleaming blade flashing in the dim light. Another, smaller but no less menacing, wielded a pistol, the dark barrel pointed directly at her father.

Her father fought back with the desperate courage of a cornered animal, but he was no match for the sheer brutality of his assailants. Sarah watched, paralyzed by terror, as the nightmare unfolded before her eyes. It felt as if time had stopped, as if she were trapped in a horrifying tableau, unable to move, unable to scream, unable to do anything but watch as her world disintegrated before her very eyes.

The air filled with the metallic tang of blood, the scent mingling with the acrid stench of sweat and fear. The men moved with a savage efficiency, their actions calculated and brutal, their faces devoid of remorse.
Then, it was her mother's turn.

Sarah felt a wave of nausea wash over her, but something deeper than fear, something raw and primal, surged through her veins. This wasn't just terror; this was betrayal, a violation of everything she held sacred. The anger boiled within her, a searing inferno threatening to consume her entirely. They searched for valuables, rifling through drawers, tossing things aside with careless brutality.

When they finally left, their cruel laughter still ringing in her ears, Sarah crept out of her hiding place. The scene before her was a horrifying tableau. Her parents lay lifeless on the floor, their faces bathed in the cold, pale light of the moon. The once warm and inviting home was now a scene of carnage, the air thick with the stench of blood and death. A wave of grief so profound that it threatened to crush her swept over her. She knelt beside her parents, tears streaming down her face, the coldness of the floor seeping into her bones. But mixed with the grief was a burning resolve, a fierce determination that hardened her heart. She would not let them win. Their cruelty would not be the last word. She would hunt them down, one by one, and she would make them pay for what they had done.