Witnesses

Chapter 1

He looked around. He had seen fifteen men before sniping back at the hill, so that meant that there were only seven men left, including that loon. Good. Things would be far easier from here on.

The first man he'd encountered had been crouching behind a building, lying in wait for him. He raised his machete, ready to take the gunslinger's head off, but the other man was faster, shooting the legionary in the chest. He fell to his knees, gurgling, perhaps to beg the hunter for mercy, but he received none, as a second bullet tore through his skull.

The gunslinger grunted. Only six more to go now. He made to continue through the camp, but a loud cry tore through the air. He whirled around, only for a legionary to slam into him, knocking him to the ground. Not skipping a beat, the hunter raised his gun as he fell, blowing the other man's head off before he could use that machete of his.

He rose to his feet, then frowned as brushed off dust from himself. Sloppy. He had almost been forced to use his trump card. He reloaded his revolvers. There were only four men left, but he didn't want to take any chances with his target, especially after what had just transpired. If he wasn't careful with these legionaries, he'd end up with his head on a pike as an example, like the rest of the poor bastards on the ground.He continued onward through the base, until finally reaching a dead end. No one was in sight, and he tensed. Something was wrong.

Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Legionary charge out from an alleyway. He made to shoot the man, firing from under his arm, but he'd realized only too late that he'd fallen for a trap.

Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Legionary charge out from an alleyway. He made to shoot the man, firing from under his arm, but only to realize too late that the man was only a distraction, as the whir of a power fist filled his ears. He didn't even have time to turn his head before pain exploded into his side, sending him flying into the station wall.

He blinked out stars as he struggled to get his bearings. That hit had wrecked him. He could feel his ribs broken, and he could strangely feel no weight on his head or hips. Worst of all, he could feel a burning pain in his lungs as he struggled to breathe.

He cursed himself. He shouldn't have fallen for such a cheap trick, but the days in the desert had taken their toll. He could barely even think with the heat and the thirst that was rampant in this godforsaken desert.

The sound of several armored feet disrupted his brief moment of self-reproach, and he looked up to see his target, holding a power fist. He had taken his helmet off, and now, looking at him, the gunslinger saw that the man was dark haired, his face twisted into a grin.

This was him. The Legion knew him as Titus, but the gunslinger knew his real name to be Billy Caldwell. The files he'd been given on this prick were very thorough in explaining his crimes, and it had been a long list, even before he had become this devil-worshipping bastard.

"I gotta say, you killjoy, I'm impressed." He began. "I didn't expect a pretender to get this far, but at the end of the day you are just that. A pretender. Hoping to copy the mastery of the devil."

The gunslinger said nothing, only coughing up blood, and the false centurion's grin twisted further. "I see that I've done a number on you. Good. This'll make what happens next all the more fun." 

He pulled out a machete with his free hand, then pointed it at the gunslinger. A sadistic gleam was in his eye. "Buckle up. I'm about to show you how we do things in the Legion."

The gunslinger smirked in spite of himself. Is that so? If this idiot thought that he was out of tricks, then he had another thing coming to him. He watched as Billy lowered himself down to begin the mutilation, and he sneered. Fool.