Deathshadowed - 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭.

ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨

The statement that the inn was trashed didn’t do the scene justice. Glass littered, blood stained the wooden boards, tables flipped, ruined, chairs broken and thrown, windows- what windows? Bullet holes riddled every surface with corpses littered on the floor, slumped on the stairs. It was a showdown, but not exactly how the fearful crowd believed and refused to listen to those who managed to escape with their lives. After all how ridiculous the claim was that one woman tried to take out the whole local gang? Surely a rival one just arrived to the town.

Death settled inside the previously lively inn, the remaining bandits guarding the front entrance. The town sheriff only watched with faltering hope.

A faint twitch slowly growing to snakelike twists, tiny pieces of glass shaken from her body, the faint cracking of them hitting the blood darkened wood almost deafening in the ear ringing silence. As if the whole town was holding its breath. The woman’s eyes rolled back in their sockets fighting through the previous unconsciousness. The grotesque rolling of her limbs, torso stopped after the searing white hot pain in her left leg pierced through the veil; the woman snapped into sitting position.

Blood ran rivers from her forehead as well, the rich crimson eventually reaching her parted lips. Instead of spitting the metallic liquid out, Karma eagerly drank as if feeding on her own life, pupils dilated from the dizzying, maddening adrenaline. Her mind was still swimming in sangria haze but her hands never wavered as she refilled her revolvers without even glancing at it. Nimble fingers danced from her belt to the cylinders until they were full; they clicked back in place was when the fog dissipated entirely.

With each beat of her heart the puddle under her own leg grew larger; a makeshift bandage will do in short term. The upturned table she was leaning against had its left side blown off almost completely; shotgun with a large caliber. 20 corpses, 12 of those whom she had rightfully shot, the others were the unfortunate caught in the crossfire or ended by the criminals. Well, 12 was definitely not 18, was it now? She felt her lips wet with her own scarlet blood tug into a silent, vicious grin. All red tainted teeth without light. Karma only saw half of her reflection in the broken glass, the emerald of her eye blazing in the center of the crosshair scar. Pupils blown wide, adrenaline like liquid fire warming her from inside; oh she was alive.

“Aren’t ya goin’ to check it?!” the escaped leader snapped at his shaken remaining men, motioning for one of them to gather their courage and make sure that unholy creature was dead or not.

The red sun dipped below the horizon.

Glass cracked beneath steel heeled boots, the sound alarming not only the criminals but the townspeople as well. They were sure steps, not a stumble of someone on verge of dying. A shot with a scream when witnessing the flash of emerald blaze in the abyss; but the man was the one who collapsed with empty eyes despite his gun was drawn. The eyes remained. 13. Spinning from under the batwing doors of the inn, the marksman already had the next in her crosshairs; the two triggers pulled in perfect union. 15.

The man with the shotgun was still alive, blasting the door clean off its hinges, only that the marksman already assumed her next position to end his life as well. 16.

The remaining two just stared for a few moments; fear, bewilderment, confusion swallowed by emerald orbs on fire. The staring contest was broken with an another impossible speed draw, 17. This was the moment when the bandit leader decided to flee, running, scrambling wildly and blindly like a startled, hunted animal. Karma observed with a final flare in her eyes, her revolver slowly leveling with the disappearing figure. A thunder of a shot, a soft thud a few moments later. 18.

“I would like a doctor to check my leg.” the people jumped almost at the same time when the bounty hunter spoke, they wordlessly stared along with a few hushed whispers about the devil. Oh, just the usual.

“Sheriff of Wildcreak, I want the bounty of the Mothers’ Tears gang ready by morning. Of seventeen members’, keep last one’s to rebuild the inn.” Karma stated, something told her there won’t be any problems regarding payment.

She turned and walked back to the now dark inn in ruins in hope that a room upstairs might’ve survived the carnage intact enough to sleep in. The adrenaline slowly but eventually draining entirely, leaving her the same aching hollow as before.

Tags

💀 stories⚡| when listening to others' tales; l already set my mind on becoming one 💀 alright/encouraged to like and reblog⚡| don't let my myth fade me before: karma is the same one of the family me now: i take that back. they are all batshit.

askthechronoverse liked this · 1 year ago

deathshadowed

2 years ago

Karma thought, hoped she will perish in a great battle, the most famous shootout of the old Western era. Death accompanied her since childhood, her parents dying when she was 10, her uncle when she was 20. The legendary marksman has never missed her target; she was a Black Mamba: one bite, sure death. The only remaining family member was her horse, Villám, a cross breed between Lipizzan & Akhal Teke. The gang she was hunting realized how deep her bond ran with Villám, wrestled the horse into the furthest stall from the exit and set the stall on fire. Karma had a choice, continue her hunt with vengeance and leaving Villám to die alone, afraid or face her greatest fear, the fire and try to rescue her.

She marched into the flames. By the time she reached and freed her, she knew it was too late for them to get out. Her revolver only had one bullet in the cylinder, she couldn’t leave Villám, nor she had the strength to end her. Instead Karma told her to breathe. Breathe in the thick clouds of smoke before the fire could reach them. They collapsed and died together, shielding each other from the approaching flames. The most feared gunslinger died in 1895, her grave unmarked, her legend slowly suffocating along with her.

The first change she noticed in Hell that the chambers of her revolvers, Salvation and Damnation were full. The next was Villám standing next to her, her mane and tail billowing like smoke, her fur a darker shade of black and her eyes were acid green fire. As Karma was hugging the only one remaining and even following her to death, her hair fell into her face; instead of the sun lightened dark blonde, porcelain white strands.

As she took a small step realized that the exact spot she’s been standing has started deteriorating. Death following her like a shadow in life has finally caught up with her. When Karma learned about the yearly cleanse, she decided to test her newfound powers, pressing her hand to the border of the ring until was eaten away and she could escape with Villám.

She wandered through rings until she reached Wrath, the scenery, the inhabitants a strong reminder of her life, therefore she decided to settle in that ring.

Side verse / delayed death: Humbled by her death, Karma treated her afterlife as a second chance. She lived in almost complete soltitute, near exile mostly due to her powers as she didn't want to harm anyone nor the infrastructure and her actual need to enjoy the quiet, dangerous desert with her horse by her side. She took on various jobs, hunting, weapon maintenance, locating lost or missing children and killing those who took them; a humble life which didn't require her to be known by society other than a wraith passing by. Until a day and a challenge, a threat came.

Main: As decades passed, the ivory haired woman and her midnight wonder of a horse wasn't too much of a secret. The current local demon lord had his eyes on the strange mare and challenged the rider to a race, if he wins he takes Villám. Karma agreed, her faith in her horse's speed unwavering, plus it...offered a thrill from her old life. Despite her victory, Villám was about to be taken she realized there was only one way out of the situation. After the showdown Karma realized she was destined to kill, no matter how she tried to run from it. With now shadows oozing from her back, she continued with her old job, a bounty hunter clouded by murky mist and an aura of decay.

Demonic features:

At first glance Karma appears relatively humanlike. Bone white hair, poison green sclera, bright, glowing acid green irises along with the glowing outline of her crosshair scar. Her right pupil merged together with the scar, but causes no problems in vision.

Her skin is sickly pale, as if she’s a ghost, it turns to black starting from her fingers while shooting. Her crosshair scar also glows when taking aim.

As a souvenir from her human life, her Black Mamba alias carried over into the afterlife in the form of the entire interior of her mouth being ink black along with a slightly lighter black forked tongue. She also has two extra hidden fangs on the top of her mouth which she can flick down briefly. However she's not venomous, but the sight is usually deterring enough to keep the facade.

There are two long ashen gashes on her back, always oozing shadows: the slits feel like they are missing something; also they are the main source of the eerie fog/shadows accompanying her.

Karma doesn’t bleed. When she’s wounded, black mist with tints of green seep out of the wound, both weaving it close and eroding everything else it touches. Her heart is also silent, been since her death but overwhelming emotions are capable of making it beat for a few seconds, which is both physically painful and an emotional trauma in one.

Demonic transformation: Karma is quite short with her 5'9 frame, but that can change quite drastically between 10 feet up to even 20. Her whole body is overtaken by a substance similar to smoke; black, poison & seafoam green swirling together. Her state is between solid and gaseous, gaining speed unable to be followed by naked eye. Her left eye striking white, her crosshair scar glowing a vicious acid green while the rest of her face stays hidden in the shadows.

Abilities:

Revolvers: her bullets are the essence of souls she has killed both when alive and dead; combined with her powers. Stronger the person/entity was, greater the bullet’s damage will be to the point of destroying holy beings. Her bullet supply is near unlimited, but if she misses one shot, she will lose all collected souls, reaving only one bullet when she died.

Aura of decay: Karma can’t stay in one place for too long. The smoke accompanies her every step, causing the environment to die, most beings to age if spent too much time in her presence. So far only one is immune to it. When transformed, instead of this phenomenon being passive, she can unleash it as a devastating offense, the swirling black and acid green tendrils leaving only brittle bones.

Shadow manipulation: She can control shadows in her vicinity, short distance travel through them, engulf smaller areas in complete darkness. In shadows she can move faster than sound, agile and her body is not solid while doing so.

Sensing life forms: Mostly with her left eye, she can sense life nearby, although can’t pinpoint the exact location unless she’s really close. But she knows someone, something is there.