Scumbag America.
My Adventures in Red Dead Redemption
WARNING, GRUESOME AND DETAILED STORY.
John Marston is out in the wild just miles outside of Blackwater until he sees something in the distance. It’s a man with two men hogtied, one on the ground and one already on a horse ready for transportation. The cop asks John to help him escort these two men too the Blackwater police station and with out a second thought John pulls out his Revolver and shoots the helpless policeman in the face. He drops dead with his head bleed from both sides where the bullet traveled in and out.
He sees the two men are unarmed and helpless as they think they are freed thanks to this man. But they take a second look at his face and sees nothing but a cold, blood curdling stare. He shoots one horse and kills it instantly to make sure it doesn’t get away. He then calls upon his Hungarian Half-Bred and places one man on its back. He picks up the other and begins to walk. Without a word he whistles as his own horse follows him. He continues, he walks and walks for the next 200 metres. He then turns off towards the shore down a narrow hill, well hidden from any civilisation as he walks down the beach. The roar of crashing waves is the only thing heard apart from Johns own footsteps in the soft, sea water soaked beach. He stops and places the man on his shoulder at the edge of the beach. He takes aim and places one bullet on the head of his own horse. The men are terrified as to what they witnessed.
As one man lies there on the sand feeling the water creep into his own shoes and pants the other man falls hard from the now deceased horse and hits the sand. John walks over to him and places his revolver into its holster. He picks him up and places him just metres from his friend on the riverside. John watches these two men look around knowing they can’t do anything about it. He waits, he waits for them to look at John just to look down at the sand covered beach and back up again to him. As they do, John looks into their eyes and sees fear, knowing death is yet to come. John takes aim with his own LeMat revolver in the forehead of the man he carried on his shoulders. He can see it, he can see they want to cry, they want to beg for mercy and their life. Fear has struck them, it has struck them hard. The fear is so overwhelming they cannot show these emotions. He aims perfectly, in the very middle of one man and pulls the trigger as his short 25 year life flashes before him.
Splat….
His blood now fills the river leading out to sea. His body slowly rolls into the ocean and sinks to the very bottom of the river never to be seen again. The second man has witnessed his friend killed in cold blood by the very same man who had just killed his own first born son and the man that took care of him as a young child just hours prior to his friends murder. He knows the end is near, John reloads his gun and walks slowly. All he can do is stare into the cold, ruthless eyes of John Marston. He hears it, his gun is reloaded and cocked. It is raised, he looks down the barrel and sees the very bullet that will sure travel through his head. It’s aimed at his forehead soaked in blood from his fallen friend along with his own sweat and tears. It goes black….
John Marston calls his horse, to ride off and collect more people for his river of death.
