He thrived on blood... innocent bystanders saw him shoot those who stood against the confederate army. Sometimes at point blank range, blood splattered all over his clothes and face. Sometimes a drop of two wound itself around his rifle, the blood tracing itself back from the barrel to the handle then to the saint's palm finally dripping and making a patch in the eerie desert shrubbery.
The nights were cold and dank, the fires were hollow, the path ahead was empty. The saint was tired of all the killing.
She stood behind the well watching him, his brutality and his boorishness did not scare her away. She stood up holding her ground, the flames of a fire nearby gave her an aura. The saint did not say a word but he knew that his life was going to change. He walked up to her lifted her on his shoulders and started walking.
They made love in a shaded area, eliza did not fight back. She was crying while he pounded her, the tears were of knowing that this man was hers. It was not a rape, it was an acceptance of knowing what you wanted.
The saint and eliza gave birth to a baby girl, those who dreaded saint were happy that he had a flicker of smile. The saint was changing and suddenly the rebels killed em all. His wife and daughter burnt alive in front of his eyes while he tried to save them.
He went numb, his anger was chilly; he lifted his weapon and started to walk towards the enemy camp. He kept shooting everyone: men, women, kids his face was expressionless. People howled and died all around him but he was aimless. The village was silent, rat camp was a dead village in fifteen minutes. And then someone shot the saint. He sat on one knee held his ground with his other feet, looked up screamed a weary scream and died......
But that was not all.............
The saint is now a soul, the gates open and he walks towards a fiery bridge, the flames are red but as he keeps walking the flames are subdued as if someone is pressing them down. It becomes totally dark. A gate stands in front of him with a sword as its insignia.
The Saint opens the door, he has to shut his eyes from the ethereal glow of a man who has dragon wings. The Saint looks up and sees a man glowing in white and blue flames, a long tunic and cotton pants robe him, he has wings, wolf like teeth and his hair touch his knees. Beautiful flowing long hair which is burning white and blue. His cotton pants have two very long swords hanging from it.
The Angel of Hell is he and he does not speak.... he looks at the fire place.
The Devil walks in, he has short hair, clean set of teeth, a white linen suit white shirt and he is wearing jute slippers. His eyes give him away. The are black but instead of them being colored they are burning, a peep and you can see the wrath, a peep would drag you down countless miles beneath the abyss we call hell.
The Angel looks at the Devil, he seems tired..... he says " Lucifer, The Saint is what people called him... he is the right soul to continue our work. We are not evil but who can explain it to our children. Humans will never understand but we need to keep doing what we did." He finished the sentence in a huff and then he coughed, his hair bouncing over his whole body, the fire shimmering and fading in certain places.
The Devil was silent still, he looked at the saint and asked him "Child, will you do my dirty deed?"
The Saint looks up and the room starts to freeze, the fire in his eyes begins to diminish, the devil clutches his head and falls.
He gets up and asks the Angel for his two swords..... he holds them and gives a mighty roar turning the room into a furnace. The swords start melting and they shape up in two walker colt revolvers. The revolvers never ever miss their target and they will kill.
The room turns to normal, the devil hands the colts to the saint. The angel holds the saint by his arms and breathes his white fire in his mouth.. he then says "now, you shall be The Saint of Killers".
A breeze emanates and The Saint of Killers is born, a white fire glowing his unkempt bearded face, the toothpick still hangs and the colt are nestled in his hips.....
The Saint is walking away when the Devil leers and taunts him "So, my lackey you serve me now.. Do you not?"
The Saint turns around and shoots him, he kills him then and there and screams... his wrath freezes hell over alongwith all its inmates and he walks out....
He goes ransacking towns and villages and cities until no one is left......
He calls upon God on his knees, hands folded in prayer..... he asks him why did he had to lose it all? For this? God tells his child "I did it Saint, you had to become what no one else would become"
The Saint asks " Did you take my family away?"
God replies "Yes".
The Saint shoots him... drags him off his throne and takes his place. Now there is no more sin and no more puppeteers. He feels calm, a drop of white fire runs down his chin and he sleeps an eternal sleep.
