Stare of Steel

All went silent. 

The crackling of candle flame was all that filled the newfound emptiness, yet it drew no attention from the countless heads that had turned to face the doorway. Within the rotted doorframe of the shabby bar stood the silhouette of a man, prominent against the harsh trails of sunlight which seemed to cower behind him. 

The man’s steady frame was highlighted by a fine leather cloak, covering a baggy brown shirt. Upon his head sat a large, brimmed hat, casting a shadow over his bearded face. His boots were made of quality leather with worn metal soles and polished silver spurs. Around his waist was a carefully patterned belt which held up a pair of night black trousers. A holster hung from the belt, boasting an impressive revolver that bore the initials KJ on its barrel. 

“Kent, it’s a pleasure to ‘ave you back,” said the bartender nervously as he made his way around the counter to the front and extended a pudgy hand out. After waiting a moment, Kent shook the man’s hand firmly before he scurried back behind the counter. “So, what’ll it be today.”  

“Whisky sour”

“Whisky sour coming right up,” said the bartender as he scampered off to prepare the drink.   

People stared. They always did. Kent Jackson had gotten used to that by now. After all, how could a name his big go unnoticed. This wasn’t his first time at this particular joint, but it seemed that the townsfolk never got used to him being there. Kent cast his eyes across the room, observing how everyone caught in his gaze stopped staring, how they looked down at the floor like a depressed dog. Pathetic. 

Kent pitied people like this, people without enough self-respect to even look in the direction of someone like himself. That’s why he was a legend, and they weren’t. He had respect for himself. That was the one quality which so many out there lacked.  

“Sir, your drink is ready now.” 

Kent strode over to the counter, and then realising there were no seats left stared a man in the eyes until he gave up his stool for him. It was funny really, how far just looking at someone could go. 

“That’ll be on the ‘ouse, sir” said the bartender as Kent reached for his pouch. He gave the man a slight nod and swished the drink around the cup, watching a small whirlpool form which spun the ice cubes around the faded glass.  

This particular cocktail was a bit lemony for Kent’s liking, but it wasn’t terrible. Not terrible enough to shoot the man who made it. This idea brought a sly grin to his face, reminding him of a similar incident many years ago. 

As he went for a second sip a loud crackling sound split through the silence, causing him to jolt up and spill his drink all over his tunic. He spun around, expecting to see a gun pointed at his head but found none of the sort. In fact, there was nothing there at all. No crazed man, no rabid dog, absolutely nothing. So, what could have made that noise then? 

Well, whatever it was it was going to pay for ruining his one good shirt. 

He stormed out of the bar, brandishing his revolver as he observed his surroundings. The dirt road was empty. Now Kent was real angry. You don’t get to ruin his shirt like that and then just run off, even if it wasn’t intentional. But there was nobody there to take his frustration out on. Suddenly, he heard another series of crackling from above him where he looked to see a small spec darting across the sky, followed by a blazing trail of fire. 

“What in the tarnation is that.” 

10 minutes later and there was impact. Kent could tell by the cloud of smoke he saw rising off in the distance. As he trudged over towards the site the shape of a rock became distinct from within the plume of dust that had formed.  

Now as he stood maybe five feet away from the rock, he could finally appreciate its true size. Well, it was more a boulder than a rock. Its rough surface was highlighted by thin fissures, emitting a strange green glow. 

In all his time, Kent had never seen anything like this before. He supposed this was what the folks up in the North called a ‘meteorite’. But the green glow, he’d never heard of that before. But before he had time to truly comprehend what was happening there was a crack, then a crumble and then he watched as the meteorite crumbled away to reveal what seemed to be a large green gem, shining with a fierce glow that hurt to even look at. 

The intensity of the glow sent Kent stumbling backwards, covering his eyes with his left arm while his right held his revolver.

Seconds passed, then minutes and yet nothing else happened. After his eyes finally adjusted, he walked up to the gem, peering into its shiny surface.  

There was something inside. 

He saw it, moving around in there. He moved in closer to inspect, and as he stared at the shape within, he saw it move once again, and now he wasn’t the only one staring. Two, giant bug-like eyes glared right back at him, staring into his soul. 

Stunned, he took a few paces back and watched as seams began to form on the gem, which too began to crumble into pieces.  

The head was the first thing out, thin with sunken cheeks and large eyes. No, massive eyes. It had no lips, just a bottomless hole for a mouth. A thin neck supported its head, resting above a wide torso and thin waist. Its legs were scrawny, with only two fragile tendrils supporting them from behind. It arms too seemed delicate, but from the forearm onwards they were shaped like blades 

It unwound like an origami, and once it had taken in its surroundings it finally laid its gaze on Kent. Within seconds he felt his confidence crumble, and his legs wobble and threaten to give out. But he had to stand his ground. Especially now that half the town had gathered around to watch the spectacle unfold. 

“State your business o’foul beast.” 

No reply. 

Kent didn’t suppose he expected one. Saying that was more an attempt to boost his confidence than anything else. While difficult to tell it seemed the creature wore a look of anger, a look of pure rage targeted solely towards him.  

He tried to brainstorm ideas, solutions to this problem he now had. But he had nothing. He’d never had to face anything even remotely similar to this before.  

It ran. 

The thing ran right at him, at inhuman speeds wielding its arms like swords. With pinpoint accuracy Kent sent a bullet through its chest, sending it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Well, that was easier than expected. 

He looked around at the townsfolk who just stood and watched in horror, completely unresponsive to the creature's death. This was his chance. He waltzed over to the corpse, placed one leg on it and held his gun up in the air. 

“I, the great Kent Jackson have slain this unearthly beast.” 

Now the silence was vanquished by the roar of cheers as people were dragged out of their stunned dazes, finally realising that the threat was eliminated. People came up to shake his hand, some came to offer him gifts and their hospitality and some just came to look at the carcass that he had been standing on only moments before. 

But the joy wouldn’t last. Suddenly, the sky erupted in crackling as hundreds, no thousands of specs appeared, trailed by an inferno of light. The people instinctively looked towards Kent out of fear and for guidance, but he didn’t have much to say. 

“Well crap”