He Goes On All Fours - A Western Monster Romance

A Sickness of the Lungs

Colt Townsend woke up with a start, fresh beads of sweat forming on his damp forehead. He hastily wiped them away, breathing heavily as he blindly felt for a spare towel in the darkness. Once the young man snatched the fabric from his nightstand, he stumbled out of his bed and hurried to the bathroom. Despite it being pitch black, the few traces of moonlight seeping through his window helped guide his way a little.

Colt almost fell over the sink as he hacked up a rather small blot of blood. The taste it left in his mouth made him quiver in disgust, but he made sure to hold the vomit from flying out of his mouth.

The young man leaned over the faucet for a moment before straightening up. He didn't want to see the face in the mirror in front of him. Instead, he immediately looked down before making eye contact with his own self.

Once the ordeal was over, Colt stumbled back to his bed where he seated himself on the edge. He pulled the blankets closer towards him and wrapped them around his shoulders, staring down at the floor as he recollected his nightmare. It was so real and so awful; it had woken him into a coughing fit.

In his nightmare, Colt was in the middle of his town- Graveflat. Well, he considered it his town despite it technically being under supervision of his father. His great grandfather had founded the place after uncovering a large amount of silver in the upper regions of the land. From there, more people were called to help mine it out and the community eventually grew.

Colt tried not to get carried away with his thoughts and attempted to revert back to his dream. He closed his eyes, recalling the vision of the shadowy man he saw at the end of Graveflat. He was standing out in front of the church...only, well, he wasn't a man at all. The long limbs, sharpened claws and indiscernible face were definitely not human, but that wasn't the horrifying part.

The same nightmare had been happening for quite some time. And when the monster walked towards him, it would always turn into someone he knew. That night, the face of his late mother was on the creature's own visage, causing him to  jump awake.

Colt felt the dreams were happening because of his progressing sickness. It was only recently that he started to feel the fatigue and distress of his illness, but his own father didn't seem to think it was of importance. Eat healthy, drink wine, and enjoy the Arizona weather was what he always said. As if it helped.

"Bastard," the young man muttered, wiping his mouth as he shakily reached out for a glass of water on his bedside. He took large gulps, washing away the taste of blood as he stood back up. There was no use in going back to sleep, and to be honest he was worried he would have another bad dream. Instead, he would get himself dressed so his father could drag him around town like he did so often.

The man's name was Horley, and he was proud of Graveflat. He appointed its Sheriff- a close friend of his, and made sure to visit every shop in town as often as he could.

"Make yourself known and loved by many, my son," the man would always say. "Smile and wave, but have a plan to kill everyone."

Horley believed people envied him because he was wealthier and in good with the lawmen in town. Colt didn't see it that way, in fact he thought people might've feared his father. For what reason? Perhaps because whatever he said was the law.

Colt opened his dresser, pulling out a simple, white, long sleeve shirt as well as a pair of folded black pants. He laid them out in his unkept bed, running a finger over the creases on the fabric. If his mother were still alive, she would have scolded him for not keeping his clothes in good condition.

But in a way she was still there, infecting Colt's lungs and bringing back memories of the day she had passed. He was only a boy back then, but the recollection of her lying on her bed with blood smeared across her lips haunted him forever. His father was always a cold man, but her death made him...colder.

Shaking his head, Colt began to unbutton his sleeping shirt, tossing it aside as well as his bottoms before trailing back to the bathroom. He wanted the fresh air to hit him a little before he put on his clothes for the day. Despite being paraded around town like some sort of trophy, he always did try to look his best. Just in case he ever found someone of interest. After all, all eyes were on him and it wasn't uncommon for some of the women to stare. The only things was, they never did interest him. He thought perhaps it was because he hadn't met the right one yet...

A sudden knocking on his bedroom door made the poor man jump, and he almost got sent into another coughing fit. If it wasn't for the voice of his father on the other side, he would've thought someone had broken into their home again.

It did happen once, a short while ago. The man was a beggar- well, that would be a story for another time.

"Colt? You awake in there?"

"Yes, father." The man cleared his throat, patting down his dark hair as he made his way over to his clothes.

"Good. Bright and early, just like your father. Make sure you make yourself presentable and get that blasted cough under control. No need to worry everyone."

Colt rolled his eyes, making a mental note to add a dark handkerchief in his pocket. He didn't want to embarrass his father in case he did end up coughing some more blood.

"I hear you." He responded a little sternly, turning towards the door to make sure the other didn't pick up on his annoyance.

"I'll be out in a bit. Maybe have Jessica make a good meal. And some coffee too."

"I'll let her know." Horley's gruff voice faded away as well as the sound of heavy steps, signaling to Colt that he was alone once more. He rolled his eyes, resuming his attention on his attire. With nothing much to do and little time to himself once again, he decided to get himself prepared.