A Somber Calamity

The log cabin stands still among shapes of gloom, surrounded by a haunting silence. The brightness of sunlight has not touched the building since the happening of a heinous tragedy. The wind blows, scattering ashen hues across the barren land.

A man sits in the shadows, crippled by the memory of his wife. Each moment that passes, he could still smell the overwhelming scent of her blood, he could still see the imprint of faded crimson on the floor. He could still feel the coldness of her flesh as he held her dead, battered body in his arms.

In the hour that he was gone, a slaughter occurred, and he would never be able to reverse it. Days have passed, but the blood still haunts him. Whoever had invaded their home had taken some of their possessions, unclothed and raped his wife, then proceeded to shoot her multiple times in the chest. Then, there was another shot on the head.

A mixture of rage and grief had filled him the day he found her.

He felt a warm tongue touch his skin. Looking down, he saw the dog that they had owned together. His wife had named her ‘poppy’, resembling a flower. His mind took him back to a memory.

They had just walked out of the general store, needing to pick up some milk and bread. Both their horses were still there, tied to the post. Him and his wife were lucky enough inherit a small property near this town with a barn. His father had died there, and he wanted his son to have a home so he could care for his own family. The horses belonged to his father as well. One chestnut quarter horse and a black mustang.

He put the ingredients in the back of the wagon. The wooden seat squeaked underneath his weight once he jumped on, the heat of the sun simmering against him. He lowered his hat over his forehead, feeling the sweat stick to him like a second layer of skin.

They rode through town, heading back towards their home. Suddenly, his wife’s voice made him halt the horses.

“Look Cooper! There’s a pup over there.”

Squinting through the glare of the flaxen light, he peered towards where she was pointing, and saw a little dog curled up near the jailhouse. His wife had already hopped off the wagon to scope out the scene, so he followed behind her.

Once he halted the horses and tied them, he knelt next to his wife.

“Shame. He’s crushing some poppy flowers.” Cooper commented, peering at the smushed petals beneath the pup’s paws. The dog itself seemed dirty and scrawny.

His wife smiled. “We should keep him.”

Cooper scoffed. “Do we really need another mouth to feed?”

She shrugged and caressed the somber looking dog some more. “She could be useful; beagles are good hunting dogs.”

Cooper sighed, he could see how she pitied the animal. His wife had a kind, loving heart. Of course, she was not going to walk away and leave it there. Despite the fact that it is quite common to find abandoned dogs.

“Alright, shall I carry it on my horse?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll hold her on my lap. She’s fairly small and delicate.”

He met the pups gaze and could see misery floating around in its reflection. In that moment, he knew they were doing the right thing.

A faint whine pulled him out of the memory. He gazed downwards to see Poppy staring at him.

“Right. Gotta feed ya.”

Cooper pulled himself up and walked over towards where he left the bag of kibble. To his dismay, it was empty.

“Guess we gotta run an errand, li’l buddy.”

The dog followed him outside. He slammed the door shut and walked towards the barn. After bringing the horses in, he threw the necessary gear on them and attached them to the wagon. If he wasn’t bringing the dog, he would have just taken the one horse. But he wanted some company on his ride towards town.

The ride was quiet. The wagon bumped over rocks and uneven terrain. He could hear the claws of the dog scratching against the wood, struggling to keep her balance. Cooper could hear a vulture in the distance, a part of him feared that the dog would be snatched by those deadly claws.

Another part of him, the sick grieving side, wished that would happen. So, he wouldn’t have the burden of this pup. It was a melancholic reminder of his dead wife. She loved this dog, now he was left with it.

He could hear the bustle of the townspeople in the distance. The hammering of metal against a horse hoof hit his eardrums as he rode past a blacksmith. He noticed a few people glance at him, then quickly look away.

He was still the talk of the town. It did not take long for people to know about his wife’s murder. Once they did, it caused suspicious and fear. Although, he would rather have people staring than coming up to him and bothering him about her murder. He did not want to tell a sob story or listen to someone’s pity.

Cooper only wanted his wife back.

Once he parked the wagon, Cooper headed towards the general store, Poppy close behind him. He knew the owner of the store personally, so he was able to bring Poppy inside and let him walk freely.

“Howdy, Cooper. How ya doin’ today?” Bo’s gruff voice echoed throughout the walls of the store. Cooper tipped his hat and nodded.

“Doin’ ok. Gotta pick up some grub for Poppy.”

Cooper turned the corner, but he could still feel Bo’s sympathetic gaze staring at him. He despised that look of pity.

He found the dog kibble, then headed towards where the old register was sitting. He handed the money to Bo, purposefully not making conversation. Bo didn’t take it personally; he knew how hard grief was on a man.

Once everything was purchased, he pushed the front door open and sauntered back outside. He was about to pick Poppy up and set her back onto the wagon, but she bolted away from him and began to bark at a passing stranger.

“Poppy! Dammit!”

She was yapping incessantly at the man, growling loudly. He seemed disgruntled and kicked the pup away, muttering to himself.

Cooper stormed over and pushed the man roughly.

“Don’t you kick my dog!”

Poppy whimpered but growled again. It confused Cooper, since

Poppy was normally very skittish and shy. Cooper frowned and peered closer at the man. Then, he recognized something.

“Well, how ‘bout you control that mutt.”

A flame burned inside of Cooper, so intense that it nearly melted his flesh from the inside out. Heat radiated through his veins, coursing through his blood. A vile coldness followed the heat, chilling him to the bone.

This man was wearing something that belonged to Cooper. A belt that his wife had bought for him. He would never forget that belt. It struck Cooper like a million stones. This man standing in front of him was the man who slaughtered his wife.

“I’ve been lookin’ for you” Cooper muttered, clenching his fists.

The man sneered at him. “Lookin’ for me? I don’t know ya.”

“This is for my wife.” Cooper said. He snatched the gun from his belt abruptly and shot the man in the leg. He yelped and fell to the ground. Poppy whined and ran to hide. A few people screeched. The wind howled around him. He took the gun and shot the man again, hitting him in the chest. He shot again, then again. He shot the man until all the bullets were used up, he shot him until he was lying in a puddle of his own blood, mirroring the way he had murdered Cooper’s wife.

People were yelling around him, but he didn’t care. He stood there and stared at the pile of flesh and bones in front of him, feeling a tingle of pleasure. But what surprised him, was that he didn’t feel any better. Maybe for a moment, but the emptiness still swirled within him like an uncontrollable storm.

“Cooper! What the hell!” He saw the sheriff out of the corner of his eye racing towards him. Cooper fell to his knees. Tears were silently streaming down his face.

“I had to.” He whispered.

“You killed that man in cold blood!” The sheriff yelled and grabbed him, but Cooper was not going to fight.

“He killed my wife.” Cooper said grimly. Then, before anyone could react, Cooper grabbed the gun from the sheriff’s belt and held it firmly in his hands.

“I’m sorry.” Before the sheriff could stop him, Cooper lifted the gun and shot himself. His last thought was of his wife. Then, he felt his last breath and succumbed to darkness.