Afraid or Starstruck?

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A/N: Yaayyy I finally started giving my stories actual titles 🙀🙀 anyways, this is like a random thing I came up with, in the early 1900s, enjoy 😻
☆Genre: Fluff? (Not quite sure)

There has been a series of multiple mysterious murders in my town. It's been going on for two months, by now, 56 people have already died. I wanted to get to the bottom of this, I wanted to find out why this has been happening.

I currently stood on a cliff, this place was quite peaceful. I usually came here whenever I needed some time to clear my mind. I took a deep breath and I watched the sun rise, I got here early today. My shift at the bakery doesn't start until around 11:00AM. "Luke!"
I heard someone call out my name, I turned around, oh god. It was the same guy again. The same guy from the bakery from yesterday. He's been bothering me since.

Just yesterday there was a drunk man that came in the bakery, he was mumbling something inaudibly. He caused a lot of trouble for the customers and made quite a mess. Apparently, he keeps telling me to pay my loan. Though, I don't ever remember even seeing this guy, let alone paying him anything. He came closer to me, he was holding a loaded gun from what I assume. I raised my hands into the air as quick as I could. "Where's my money?" He asked in his signature deep voice. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about! I've never owed any money to you! I've never even seen you before!" I argued. "Stop pretending." He continued, his western accent showing.

Just before he came closer to me I heard a loud gunshot and I immediately thought it was over for me. I opened my eyes and saw a gunshot straight through the man's forehead. I stared in horror as his body hit the ground. I gasped and my hands were shaky, this was the way most of the victims of this mysterious serial killer went out. I slowly looked up and saw a man on a black horse. He had a silver gun in his hand as it pointed towards me, looks like he was the one who shot this guy. He looked like a rich nobleman. He had long purple hair, down to his waist. Fair skin, and bright periwinkle eyes. His eyes shone like gunmetal, fierce and cold. He was wearing a typical black 1900s suit with a dark and long trenchcoat, and black leather gloves. He was wearing black boots too.

He was quite a handsome fellow. He had a big hat that covered most of his face, though this time he held the hat upwards so I could see his eyes. He made eye contact with me, though it felt like his eyes pierced right through me, like a metal bullet. He dropped his arm to his side, swiftly placing the gun in his pocket, still not breaking the eye contact we held for the past minute. Though, I could tell he was injured, I saw gauze wrapped around his shoulder. It still had some blood on it.

He left his hat back in the original position, now I could only see the lower part of his face. He reached into another pocket, he took out another gun, this one was a black gun. He threw it over to me, "Don't walk around in deserted places like these with empty hands. There are a lot of stores that can supply you with ammo in the south if you ever run out of it." He said, the tone of his voice was dark and serious. I grabbed the gun, "Thank you! Really, thank you so much!" I thanked over and over as I smiled. "Just do me one favor, don't tell anyone you ever saw me here." He sternly said, he then ran off with his horse as his long hair swayed in the wind. He eventually matched with the darkness of the forest and disappeared. Could this have been the mysterious serial killer? I looked down at the gun in my hands, if he really is, then why would he be so generous and save me, let alone give me a gun to keep myself safe with?

☆🧣🎹Lander Oneshots//Dump BookWhere stories live. Discover now