A Sniper Rifle And A Dead Man

A Sniper Rifle And A Dead Man 

By: I've got a plan

And that plan is to write a story weather or not it has anything to do with the prompt...

“Please!", She cried, “Stop!” 

What a mess. How had this even happened? She thought of the very beginning, when she first met Richard. It was bliss in the purest form. Both of them were just 23. All those nights alone together, and evenings in the café. She remembered how he would laugh at even the worst of her attempts at a joke. He had the best laugh. 

How she missed him, and how she missed his whole family. But they all left her. Even him. The telegram came one afternoon. The telegram she had been hoping never to get. The telegram that she prayed every day since their wedding would not come. The telegram that she cried over for seven hours. the telegram... that ruined her life. The telegram that very bluntly read: Richard, is dead. Shot in the head by an outlaw, in Nevada. The bullet entered his brain through the eye socket. It was a sniper rifle round, and the culprit remains unknown. 

Of all the ways to hear that her husband was dead, a blunt, yet descriptive, gory explanation, would not have been in the top hundred.  

She had gone to the saloon the next day and hit the bottle hard. And as soon as she was well, back to the saloon again. On and on it went for a week and a half. Until one night she fell off her barstool, too drunk to stay upright. 

And that was when Grundy caught her in his arms and carried her to the doctor's place, where he laid her in a bed and kept her away from all hard drinks. She remembered how he came to check on her every day ‘till she was well, and then continued to “check on her” once a week after that. And eventually she came to look forward to his visits. This mysterious man who she felt safe with like only one other person in the world had ever made her feel before. Richard. Any time she thought of Richard while he was around, she felt sick and would have to ask him to leave. What was she doing with Grundy? Richard was hers. Not Grundy. But Richard was dead. She would grapple with herself for a few days and then he would be back. And she would forget for a time. 

But then one evening everything changed. Grundy had been an outlaw. He was blabbing to her about his life one morning on her front porch, her hands in his hair. She wasn’t listening ‘till this slipped out of his lips. He tried to pretend he hadn’t said it. But realizing he was cornered he made it sound like it wasn’t so bad. He had only robbed a little bit of money from a stagecoach. But she got it out of him that he had killed a man. Grundy. Her sweet Grundy. Had killed a man. He quickly told her that it was just some nobody who had seen him rob the stagecoach. But then he made his fatal mistake. He told her who it was. Richard. This man, whose hair was between her fingers, and who she had been spending the last several months with, was the very man who had taken her life away. 

She wanted to puke. In his face. But she just ran away sobbing into her hands. She ran for all she was worth. She didn’t know where. Just away. Away from her murderer. But he came after her. And before she knew what she was doing she was heading back to her home. The only place in the world where she wanted to be. As soon as she got there, she bolted the door. And Grundy let her be. 

Then it was, as well as she could remember, that she decided she had to kill Grundy. Why… why did she decide this… oh yes. she had seen his revolver on her table. He’d left it there. And looking at it she knew what she would do. It was horrible. She hated it. But she had to. For Richard. 

And that very night she stole out of her house with his gun in her hand. She crept into his house and found him still awake. Waiting for her.

“I know what you have come for.", he informed her. And when she said nothing, he continued. “Yes, I know who your husband was. The barkeeper told me why you were drinking a few months back, and today I put two and two together, and made ten.” still she said nothing. “I am a murderer, true. But your Richard was too.” 

Now she spoke. "He was not you liar.” she spat between her teeth 

Grundy chucked. How could he be laughing? There was nothing funny about any of this. And it reminded her of Richard laughing at her horrible jokes. Richard… she gripped the gun in her hands tighter. But she found she couldn’t shoot him. 

“Come on", he coaxed, "you can do it. Just pull. The. Trigger. "When she didn’t make a move, he pulled a different gun from under his chair. A rifle. A sniper rifle. “this", he said, "is the gun that killed your husband.” 

Tears came to her eyes, but she still couldn't kill him. He turned the gun on himself and rested the barrel on his chest. 

“Cocked and loaded, 'he whispered. 

“Please!", She cried, “Stop!” 

And now here they were. Waiting in dead silence. And the longer she stared at the gun the more memories came to her. Good memories. And bad memories. They whirled about in her head. And she dropped to her knees hyperventilating. And all the while Grundy sat with a determined, wicked smile on his face. He was smiling. How could he? He shot Richard. Richard. Richard… Richard was dead because of this man. The room spun before her eyes. And she was crying. Then all in one moment everything snapped back into focus with a tremendous BANG! 

Grundy was shot. And she had shot him. She had shot someone. 

She crawled across the room and wept into his side. “Why?", she wailed, "why did you let me?”

“Oh bonnie”, his voice was horse and he paused to cough on blood before continuing, "I knew I could never live with you; Knowing I had killed your husband. But I could not live without you either. So, I must die. And who better to do it but you. You have your revenge now.”

“But I did not want revenge.” 

“No. And I did not want to die. So, you must die as well.” upon seeing her horrified face he went on. “I will die slowly and painfully. Gut shot Is no way to die.” he gestured to his bloodstained clothes. "But you will go quickly and painlessly.” he pulled his revolver from her trembling hand. Raised it to her ear. And pulled. 

The End