Footsteps of Death

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As the moon grazed the streets of Chicago, the hellish crusade of death approaching could be heard all around. The clicking and clattering of the very soles of a man holding that silver piece of steel echoed amongst the streets of Chicago. His voice strong and yet unheard as his footsteps spoke louder than he. All the threats, all his words, all of him was exploding at the sound of his feet and the look on his face..
Approaching the alleyway, he stood waiting for him and allthewhile, the coolness of the smoke blew his curls to the side. Still as stone, he stood. Waiting patiently for him to stumble out of the backdoor of the juke joint. Then, finally.. The breeze came softly as he heard the voice towards where the light had appeared. The man begging the woman for one more drink before she cussed him out of the juke joint. The grin appearing on his face once he began to approach the stumbling man.
The steel peacemaker reflecting a blue hue in the other man's eye who is clear stricken with fear. Both of them smiling at one another, the other man pulled out a steel peacemaker also from his birches and stood before the man in white holding it up to him. Now they stand. Two suits. One white, one black..

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