# Guns of Legend: Chapter Nine

Author: ThisAdamGuy
Tags: Cowboys, Fantasy, Guns, Indians, Magic, Shotguns, Western, pistols, rifles

Hey guys, I know I've already uploaded this chapter, but I really didn't like how I ended it. So I've changed it, and added to it, and I think this version is much better. Let me know what you think! :)
Chapter Eight
 
Kulgan tipped his hip flask back,
draining the last of the rum. With a
depressed sigh, he tossed it away, leaving it in the sand. It was going to be a long trip back to Everdry
without alcohol to keep him company. His
canteen sloshed at his side with every step he took, still full almost to the
bursting point with water. He chuckled
dryly to himself as he considered taking a quick drink from it. Nights in the desert weren't hot, but this
one had been long, and one needed to remain hydrated at all times if they
wanted to stay alive. His hand toyed
with the cap, taking it on and off, but in the end the canteen stayed where it
was. He could make it a while longer
without it.
The first rays of dawn began to
peak over the horizon, bathing the desert with an array of stunning
colors. Long ago, the sight had been
enough to make him pause. The rising sun
reflected off the sandy floor, sending streams of multicolored lights into the
sky. The Rainbow Geysers, the locals had
called it. To many, such a sight was
well worth the hardship and strife it took to live here. It had long since lost its luster to the
jaded zik's eyes, though, and now was nothing more than a distraction begging
to be ignored as he continued on his journey.
Kulgan's tail twitched in
irritation as he walked, brushing up small clouds of sand behind him. His years of being a Ranger had gifted him
with the ability to sense trouble. It
was a sense he was able to ignore for the most part, but today it was strong
enough to make his fur stand on end. His
hand itched to grasp the cool steel of his gun.
Or maybe the slimy texture of his pendant. Both would provide him with a decent sense of
comfort. He kept his hand by his side,
though. Comfort, he had learned, was not
so much a luxury as it was a trap. Once
you felt more at ease, you were twice as vulnerable. And so he allowed the uneasiness to prickle
across his body, telling him that there was an enemy, always just out of sight.
Suddenly, Kulgan stopped. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes
from the sun, gazing out across the desert.
Was that? Yes... yes it was! Miles away, looking as if it were heading straight
into the sunrise itself, Kulgan could see his quarry. It was only a dot from here, slowly making
its way across the sand, but Kulgan felt his hackles rise all the same. This was the first time he'd ever caught
sight of what he was chasing. It didn't
matter that it had a massive head start.
It didn't matter that he couldn't make out any details about it. All that mattered was that his target had
finally been spotted.
Almost without realizing it, Kulgan
brought his canteen to his lips and took a long pull from it. Reaching into his shirt's collar, he allowed
the unnatural texture of his pendant to rub against his fingers. With grim satisfaction, like a drug addicted
man finally giving in to his body's demands, he activated it and Twisted.
His shirt gave a satisfying rip as
his fleshy wings tore free of his body.
Wasting no time, Kulgan thrust them down, propelling him into the air. The Dreadwave radiated from him like a
stench, but he ignored it. With any
luck, it would only aid him in fighting this creature. Angling himself towards the rising sun,
Kulgan flapped his wings again, sending him shooting forward, closer to his
quarry.
Excitement gripped Kulgan's heart
as he sped over the barren land. Not
only was he excruciatingly close to finally finishing this job, but he was also
drawing nearer to answers. Why was this
Twister going after the children of Everdry?
Why was he leaving vashiil behind in the sand? The entire thing reeked of a larger plot, but
the zik could not piece together what it could possibly be.
It didn't matter now, though. Beneath him, Kulgan could see his target
drawing nearer. It may have been fast,
fast enough to get in and out of Everdry without anyone seeing it, but when
Kulgan took to the air, he was even faster.
The creature was large, just as the tracks had promised. Details began to surface as well. Sure enough, the creature had the general
shape of a zik, but four long, spindly toola legs protruded from its waist. It was big, too. At least twice as tall as any zik had a right
to be.
Kulgan's stomach clenched as the
thing's Dreadwave struck him like a punch in the gut, almost making him fall
out of the sky. He took a deep breath,
half to help calm his nerves, half to keep himself from vomiting. That Dreadwave was too strong. A typical Dreadwave only extended about ten
to fifteen feet in every direction. This
one, though, could be clearly felt from over a hundred feet away! Bracing his nerves, Kulgan forced himself to
keep flying towards the Twister.
But the Dreadwave proved to be too
much for him. As he passed over the
thing's head, his mind suddenly went blank with terror, and he came crashing to
the sands beneath him. A small piece of
his training kicked in automatically, and he rolled, keeping himself from
hitting the ground too hard, and leaped to his feet. His pistol was in his hand, and he had
instinctively thrust his wings out as wide as they could go, as if it would
intimidate this... whatever it was.
The creature roared, an unnatural
sound that mixed the voices of several different races together. It made Kulgan's fur stand on end. The thing could only be described as a
monster. A zik that stood over ten feet
tall, with toola legs waving wildly at its waist. Not only that, but red kashni scales could be
spotted all over its body in erratic patterns, glistening in the sunlight. Its face was that of a fuaro, and it had the
striking yellow eyes of a simmk. Without
realizing it, Kulgan took a step backwards out of sheer horror. He had met several Twisters on his journeys,
but this one had taken it too far. He
would be surprised if it was still capable of any type of rational thought.
"S-stay back!" he ordered, raising
his gun. He couldn't help but be
disgusted at the sound of his own voice, so full of terror.
The thing crouched low to the
ground, baring its claws threateningly, and let out a spine tingling hiss. Kulgan realized that it was about to
attack. He squeezed the trigger on his
pistol five times, sending bullets flying at the creature. They hit its body with soft thuds, three of
them burying themselves firmly in its body.
The last two, however, bounced harmlessly off of the kashni scales. The thing howled and clawed wildly at its
body, ripping away chunks of fur and skin as it tried to get to the bullets
embedded in its body. With a scream of
rage, it gave up and turned back to Kulgan.
The creature was a bloody mess now,
not only from his bullet wounds but from the scratches and gouges it had made
with its own claws. A feral growl rose
from its throat, and it bared its teeth- teeth that looked like they were taken
straight from a gargoyle's mouth. Before
Kulgan's eyes, the wounds began to close on themselves until nothing remained
but the blood that had already leaked out.
"What are you?" he asked in
astonishment, looking into the beast's eyes.
He saw not a trace of rationality in those eyes. Only wild, insatiable bloodlust.
With a howl, it charged at Kulgan,
faster than the zik would have thought possible. He leaped up and thrust his wings down,
trying to get out of the way, but the monster reached up and grabbed him by his
tail. It yanked down, slamming Kulgan
painfully on the ground. He looked up as
it lowered its head, opening its mouth to bite him. A wave of hot breath, laced with Dreadwave,
cascaded over him, filling his mind with terror.
Almost without realizing what he
was doing, Kulgan raised his gun and fired the one remaining bullet it
held. The creature screeched in pain and
flung itself away from him. It thrashed
around for a minute before collapsing on the ground, blood leaking out of its
left eye socket, where the bullet had struck it. Kulgan slowly got to his feet, breathing
heavily. It was dead, he had to tell
himself repeatedly. The monster was
dead, even if its Dreadwave was still in full effect.
As Kulgan took a tentative step
towards it, his foot accidentally touched a small puddle of its blood. The same sludgy feeling as before crept up
his leg. He stared at the blood in
disbelief. This thing actually had
vashiil in its blood? He looked back at the monster. It was unlike any Twisting he'd ever seen
before. So many different creatures all
blended into one zik's body. There was a
name for situations where people tried to Twist themselves into too many things:
Overtwisting. But this went beyond
Overtwisting. This many Twists should
have killed the Twister. What's more,
the creature was dead, so why was the vashiil not wearing off, turning it back
into its original form?
A grunt came from the beast. Kulgan watched in disbelief as it stirred,
and then slowly picked itself up off the ground. It staggered for a moment, off balance, but
then whirled around to glare at Kulgan with eyes full of animalistic
hatred. Eyes. Not one eye, but both. Going against everything Kulgan had ever
known, the monster had somehow grown its left eye back.
With another enraged howl, the
beast charged at Kulgan once more. The
zik raised his pistol and pulled the trigger.
All that came out was a weak click. Kulgan backpedaled, frantically trying to
load more bullets into the chamber before it was too late. Before he could flick the gun closed again,
though, the monster was upon him. Kulgan
only had time to let out a quick scream before its claws raked over him. Time and time again, the thing attacked him,
shredding his clothes, his fur, and his skin.
Acting out of desperation, Kulgan tried to aim at it, but with a swipe
of its hand the gun was sent flying out of the zik's reach.
A cold, slithery feeling crept over
Kulgan as he saw his only weapon land in the sand, too far away for him to
retrieve. It was similar to how his
vashiil pendant felt when he activated it, except this was far more
immobilizing than Twisting ever was. He
was feeling fear. Not the overwhelming
blind terror that he felt from the beast's Dreadwave. It was the sinking feeling of helplessness
one gets when they realize they are about to die, and there's absolutely
nothing they can do about it.
The last thing Kulgan felt before
descending into the merciful darkness of sleep was a sharp pain in his
back. With fading thoughts, he dimly realized
that the thing had ripped one of his wings off.

Source: https://sofurry.com/view/601813