“Dusk, you dumb motherfucker,” The little girl shouted, “How the hell do you think that disguise is going to work?”

  Dusk Hawthorne, a man who killed a cave troll single handedly, was cowering in fear of this little girl. He stood there, wrapped in a sarapa, disguised with bushels of horse hair glued to his eyebrows and upper lip. He sported an extra large brimmed hat to avoid detection, doing his best to appear inconspicuous to the townspeople.

  “It’s pretty good I thought,” Said Dusk, “If no one’s looking directly at me, they can’t tell it’s me.”

  The little girl spat on the ground, “You dumb motherfucker, everyone’s going to be staring at the guy who glued horsehair to his eyebrows.”

  “Oh, come on, Sunny,” Dusk pleaded, “I’m not really sure you could tell it’s horsehair. I cut it down so it’s not so long.”

  They both stood in front of each other, resting on the slats of fence while a group of longhorns minded their business. Dusk had made his long way over from the last town. Dusk had promised to finish off the threat of Lyle but instead, some boys had died. Two women had been made widows. Dusk had looked everywhere but the crocodile was nowhere to be found. Unable to face the townsfolk after his promise, he high-tailed it out of the town and headed to Gulch where he could replenish his stock.

  “What about Zephyr? Ain’t everyone going to recognize her?”

  Zephyr clung onto Dusk’s shoulders but was given a hairband with bunny ears springing off the top.

  “Zephyr? This is my bunny, Lola!”

  “I don’t think you’re even making it out without bullets shooting at your back,” Sunny mumbled before kicking the dirt.

  “I’ll be fine, Sunny. Did you bring them?” Dusk asked.

  “Did you really do all those things they said you did?” Sunny asked with the bravery and uncouthness of a child, “Did you really hurt those people?”

  Dusk smiled a bright smile through the horse hair mustache, baring friendly teeth that attempted to sway Sunny that she had nothing to worry about.

  “Don’t believe what they say about me, Sunny.”

  “Don’t believe what Daddy says about you?” Sunny prodded.

  “Nope. Or Ma. Or what any of the townsfolk say. Unless they say good things, then believe them double.” Dusk suggested.

  “You didn’t mangle two people at Hope’s Crossing?” Sunny asked again.

  “Not me!” Dusk insisted while making an X motion over his chest, “Cross my heart, hope to die,” His eyes pleaded but grin mesmerized, “Don’t you believe me?”

  “I don’t know if you’re strong enough to do that to two orcs. Maybe two people but not orcs.” Sunny reasoned.

  Dusk laughed, flexing his muscles, “Don’t worry. I’ll get the whole thing cleared up with the marshals. But until then, I need to make some money, and for that…”

  He showed his palm, waiting for Sunny to do her part.

  Sunny stared at him, still sizing him up. Seeing if his brother was the kind of man who could do what they claimed he could.

  “How are you even going to get a job? You’re wanted.”

  “I’m not wanted. They don’t know for sure it’s me. This town just thinks it’s me for some reason. I’ll get a job somewhere else. I’ll go to the city. Get the biggest job they have.”

  “I don’t know if I should give it to you.”

  Dusk’s head dropped down. Why did she insist on this every time?

  “I promise, I’ll be ba-ack” Dusk said, almost in a sing-songy way.

  “Now you won’t!” Sunny said, stomping her foot, “You’re too dumb! You’ll get lost! Or die! Or get caught!”

  Sunny got up from the fence and stared at Dusk, a look of fire in her eye.

  “Don’t tell people I’m dumb, Sunny!” Dusk said, “You’re more respected than I am, They’ll believe you if you say I’m dumb!”

  Sunny took the velvet bag she had brought for Dusk and chucked it at his head. He caught it before it made contact with his temple.

  “Ah! Sunny! What the hell do you think you’re doing?! These things could have exploded! You could have killed me!”

  Sunny felt an angry heat on her cheeks and nose, “I hoped they did break! You’re going to get yourself killed anyway!”

  Dusk peered into the bag to make sure they were filled with what he needed. Inside was a small treasure trove of glass vials filled with different energies. One had a mini-thunderstorm inside, the other, a fiery tornado. Some had rich swirls of purples and blues. All pulsated and shifted with different energies. They were marked with a small icon etched into the side. Dusk hungrily counted them as Sunny watched in anger.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Thanks, Sunny. I promise, this is the last time. I’ll be back soon. Be good for both of us.” Dusk said, and attempted to hug Sunny, who pushed him away.

  “I’m sorry it’s got to be like this, Sunny,” Dusk apologized.

  Dusk turned and walked down the road, loading his gun with a bullet.

  “It doesn't have to be this way!” Sunny said, tears forming in her eyes.

  She saw her brother get smaller and smaller in the distance. She terrified that if she did not cry out, he would disappear.

  “YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKER, DUSK!” Sunny said, tears welling in her eyes.

  Sunny became angry at Dusk, she was angry at herself for being angry at Dusk but she was angrier at Dusk for making her angry at him. She was angry at the world for taking Dusk away but she couldn’t call the world a dumb motherfucker, it wouldn’t listen, so she dedicated her taunts to him. Her tears fell down, covering themselves in the top layer of the dry dirt, unable to sink into the tightly packed earth.

  “You dumb dumby.” She uttered, defeated and with that, he’d turned the corner and was gone.

  Dusk picked up the pace. Sunny had a right to be mad at him, but did she have to be so loud? He was, as she couldn’t stop pointing out, a wanted man in this town. Dusk made his way to the main road out. Zephyr clung to his shoulder. He'd have to walk the next town over and use his last bit of money to buy a stagecoach to get to the city. From there he could do a huge job and make lots of money, then everyone would like him again, and he’d get to drink and party to his heart’s content. That was the gist of the plan, anyway.

  Dusk dropped the brim of his hat to cover himself as he passed by kids playing hopscotch. He respected the chalk squares, navigating the perils of the hopscotch field with ease. One leg, one leg, both legs, and finish with one leg. He took out his coins and began counting them. It wasn’t enough for a stage coach here, but maybe if he took the two days to walk to the next town he would talk someone down to taking him to Plymouth Harbor. If he went light on the food for the next week, he could make this last enough to get a big job and that would put him on track. After that, it’d be another big job, then another big job. After that he might take a small job just to catch his breath. Actually, better make it another big job. Why slow momentum?

  Dusk saw Lewis in his usual spot. Hunched in front of the bar with a mug held out for spare coins. Dusk’s heart darkened. Lewis went to grade school with him. Now he was here begging for money with none to use on a drink. It killed Dusk to see Lewis like this. He recounted his coins. Okay, he would get to the next town by walking, and really talk someone way down, or hey, maybe it’s four big jobs before a rest. Dusk took a coin and dropped it in Lewis’ cup. He could hear the plopping sound of a coin landing in liquid.

  “What the fuck, Dusk! I was drinking that!” Lewis gurgled sleepily.

  “Whoops!” Dusk said as he stepped over Lewis’ leg, “I’m not Dusk by the way, I’ve never met him!” Dusk assured.

  Okay, this was going pretty poorly. People began noticing Dusk through the horse hair mustache. Eventually a big guy with a big gun in his holster approached Dusk. Dusk looked to the left and began walking that way.

  “Dusk!” The big guy said, “We just want to talk!”

  The man, quickened his pace to meet Dusk. At that point, Dusk looked around and saw more big guys with guns joining him, from different directions. Dusk stopped walking and started trotting. The men decided to elevate the trot to a jog which left Dusk no choice but to sprint. So, as this escalation continued, Dusk was now sprinting and the people who were following had gotten on their horse and their horse was now sprinting. This was not going to help with Dusk’s plan to get four to five big jobs and then relax.

  Dusk took out his spell slinger.

  “Woah!” Said the main big guy, “Let’s take it easy!’

  “You take it easy, Dicky!” Dusk shouted back

  “I’ve got big plans with this gun and no one's getting in the way!”

  “Let’s just take you to the sheriff’s office and talk about this.” Dicky spoke assertively.

  Dusk’s sprint stopped. He was surrounded by people on all sides and horses were circling him. He had packed the right bullet for this.

  He pointed his gun at the people, trying to halt their approach

  “Don’t make me use this! It’s expensive!” Dusk hollered.

  “Dusk! Hold yourself to the law, buddy. It’s what any self-respecting Spell Slinger would do.” Dusk said this slowly, deliberately, like he was talking to a child.

  “Well, that’s where you got me all wrong! I gave up any self-respect I might have had years ago!” Dusk exclaimed proudly.

  “Don’t make me, Dusk.” Dicky pleaded one last time.

  Dicky pointed his gun at Dusk’s leg, hoping to wing him.

  “Just enough to get you to jail.”

  Things looked bad. His heart pounded in the way that it did when he was in a tight corner, the back of his neck raised on edge. There was a solemn stony voice deep in his gut that he could hear in his brain.

  Eat them.

  “No thank you,” Dusk said aloud.

  “Dusk,” Dicky tried to affect a calm voice, “Nothing bad’s going to happen.” We need you to come with us and get it all sorted.

  Good fucking meat.

  Dusk dropped his spellslinger, knowing his choices were limited.

  “Good,” Dicky said, “Now I’m going to walk slowly and take the gun away. No more slipping around, ya hear, Dusk?”

  Dusk could not hear. The voice inside his head purred maliciously, Dusk was starting to lose sight. All he could hear was that cold hypnotic voice urging him to lose control.

  As Dicky drew his hand closer to Dusk all that would ring in Dusk’s ears was the voice that told him

  Bite it off.

  Dusk picked the gun up, pointed it at his own head, the steel of the barrel feeling like a small prick. “I’ll do it!”

  Everyone stuck their hands up.

  “Easy,” Dicky said, “Easy. Let’s not do anything we’re going to regret.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to regret this,” Dusk said.

  He pulled the trigger, the blast of magic rushed out the vial and hit him square in the skull.