The Fanged Lady

Two men stand outside a saloon, one has an eyepatch, the other a beanie made from rat hair.

“So you ready?” Said the man with the eyepatch.

His companion looked around at the deep purple colored sand of the desert, contemplating if this was the best decision he can make right now.

He looked at eyepatch man and replied with a shaky yet firm “y-yes”. Eyepatch man grinned half heartedly. They both looked toward the Blood & Smoke Saloon.

The eyepatch man giggled, “One hell of a name I say.”

“For real.” said the beanie man.

They both walked slowly to the saloon.

“So kid, before we go in, have you ever smoked before? Asked eyepatch man.

“No, I haven’t.” said the beanie man with a confused voice.

“Well, if we get killed in there at least have some before hand.” He said with a wink, or a blink, we’ll never know.

Beanie Man looked at him with shock.

“Here you go kid have this cig.”

“T-thanks” said young man with the beanie.

“On a count of three, we’re going in there.” Said eyepatch.

“Got it.”

While this was happening on the outside of the saloon, let’s see what was going on inside.

A thin young looking woman sits at one of the tables. She has wild, chaotic, shoulder length hair, wearing a dark purple latex jacket with a fur collar, and flair legged denim jeans-in the middle of a desert-sits there munching on poppy seeds and smoking opium. Her chewing makes a horrible sound, like metal scraping against metal. The Few folks in the small saloon do nothing but stare at her in confusion, not because of what she’s eating or smoking, that’s pretty normal for them, not that they know what she’s smoking in the first place, it’s what she wearing, or more about what it’s made out of. They don’t know how her jacket is so shiny like metal, or how her pants are so blue, the materials are a wonder to them, but the few who have asked her about it couldn’t understand her response, they think she is speaking in some alien tongue. “What the fuck is latex?” And “What’s denim?” they think to themselves. But at the end of the day she causes no problems for anyone so there’s no point in bothering her for it.

Suddenly a loud and violent bang comes from the front door of the saloon.

“Everyone get on the fuckin’ ground!” said the two men who had crossbows and machetes in their hands. The moment they finished their sentence, the man with the eyepatch lost his head. The woman had lunged forward with all her might and with a mighty front kick her toenails sliced into his neck and decapitated him. The man with the beanie was unable to process what happened because in the next second he felt a horrible pain in his wrists. He looked down upon the woman biting down viciously into his wrists, she had metal teeth like fangs! He screamed in pain as he dropped his machete. The woman grabbed him by the face, put her foot behind his leg and body slammed him through the floorboards, smashing his skull and killing him. She lifted herself back up off the ground and swallowed his piece of wrist with a gulp.

The bartender hollered “Thanks for the help again!” As she walked towards him.

“You know you don’t have to do this for us, you don’t work here as security, I can hire you if you’d like?”

“No thanks, this is the only place that isn’t full of animals or bugs, it’s clean here, gettin fools out of this place is the least I can do. I’ll see you later bro.” She said over her shoulder as she walked out.

“See you later Asla.”

Outside of the saloon, she removed her sandals and put on a pair of boots that were fitted with the wheels from an ancient rolling chair connected To the soles. She rolled her way home, admiring the purple desert. As she finally neared her home she went straight to working on her farm, which has everything she needs, the opium, the materials needed for her clothes, everything and anything she wanted was there.

After Asla was finished on the farm, she chopped some fire wood, then went inside her small house, there in the middle of nowhere, sat down ready to write in her journal. There were only few thing keeping her sane, she thought, as she grabbed the journal, she stared at the heart-shaped locket. 560 years… after 560 years I still have this locket, I’ve had hundreds, if not thousands of journals, but this locket has always stayed with me. After the great down fall of man, as I coined it snickered Asla, this is the one thing that is still holding me to my past. After she finished writing about what happened today, and she had done, she thought to herself, “I will find the cause of the fall, and what or who did it, but right now I need to get some sleep.”

She went to her bed and slowly drifted away into a deep sleep, the only dream she has now is completing her goal and nothing will stop her, nothing ever has.

The End