He Goes On All Fours - A Western Monster Romance

Nightmares of a Shadow Man

Ezekiel looked up at the grandeur of the Townsend estate, completely enamored by the detail and size of the place. Colt watched the man's reaction with interest, after all it seemed he had never seen anything like it. Of course, he wouldn't know what others did or didn't have. His whole life he was surrounded by wealth and never once experienced poverty.

"Might I say your family has impeccable taste," Ezekiel finally spoke, taking out a cigarette as he slowly placed it in his mouth.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course not." Colt wondered if his father would approve of the strange cigarette smell, or if he would even approve of the new man roaming around the house. To hell with it, after all he was tired of spending time alone.

The young man offered the other a seat in the living room, watching as the tall, thin individual settled on top of his father's leather chair. He crossed one leg over the other carefully, not looking at all out of place as he exhaled the strong fumes.

"I notice you lookin' at me quite frequently, Mr. Townsend. Care to share your thoughts?"

Colt felt a flush of embarrassment as he realized he did have a habit of staring a little too hard at his guest. With a shake of his head, he turned the other way as the rather toxic, floral scent of the cigarette made his eyes water. Surprisingly, the smoke didn't send him into a fit of hysterical coughing.

"I apologize. I suppose you look a little differently than most of us here."

Ezekiel inhaled his death stick, smiling as his eyes narrowed at the man. For a moment, he caught a faint glow in them, but Colt felt it must have been his imagination.

"Not in the bad way, of course. Different is good."

"Well, I appreciate such a meaninful, heartfelt compliment from my host." Ezekiel playfully responded, focusing his attention back on the fireplace before them. Despite the fire inside almost subsiding into nothing, Colt couldn't help but feel like the room had gotten a lot hotter .

"In regards to your illness, Mr. Townsend. I presume you have already bought the very best doctors money could afford?"

"Yes. They all say I should rest more than I usually do, but my father insists I'm fine. Fresh air, wine, the best food-I've done it all." Colt was suddenly brought back to reality, sighing heavily as he realized there wasn't much left for him. He knew he would only get worse from there.

"My mother died of this sickness. In a room downstairs, just out in the hallway. I suppose after all these years it's decided to come and haunt me."

Ezekiel looked past his companion, at a dark hall barely illuminated by the light on the walls. He seemingly stared at something, following it with his eyes until it had vanished out of sight.

"Do you have nightmares?" The man suddenly asked, catching Colt completely off guard. He nodded after thinking for a while, unsure of what to say or whether to explain it to him. He decided after a moment of silence that Ezekiel was waiting for an explanation and gave it with some hesitation.

"I do. They're all...the same. I say it's my subconscious mind trying to alert me of something though I don't quite know what yet." Colt tried to laugh off the eerie feeling hovering around him, deciding it was best to wrap up the discussion. It didn't feel right talking about something as scary as his dreams when a strange occurrence had just taken place out in the town.

"There's a man in my dreams. Ah, he's not a man, but that's the best way I can describe him. I can never make out his features, and at the end he always turns into someone I know. Last night it was my mother."

Ezekiel seemingly became a little rigid, his eyes immediately darting to Colt as if in surprise. Whatever he was feeling at the moment he did not let the other know, and instead stood up in an almost stiff manner. Colt wondered if he had said something upsetting until the other crushed the cigarette in his leathery grip.

"Your father's arrivin'. I feel he will come bearin' some unfortunate news."

A second later, Horley did indeed walk through the entrance of his house. His head was bowed and his face somber- until he lifted his gaze. The older gentleman was at first surprised to see his son still awake, but was even more caught off guard when Ezekiel appeared directly next to the man.

"Ah. I didn't know we were having a late night guest. I assume you're here to discuss the Crowley matter?"

"That I am, sir. A real misfortune what befell poor Mr. Crowley. I truly despise drinkin' of all liquor."

Colt was confused about what had happened to the Crowley's, and was a little upset Ezekiel hadn't told him what he had uncovered. But, of course, he was just the son of Horley Townsend. Still only a boy in many people's eyes.

"Is everything alright?" The man's son decided to pry in, curious about what had befallen the butcher and his wife. Horley didn't know whether to say anything or not yet, but considering how fast word would spread he decided to let Colt know of the tragedy him and the other men had uncovered.

"Mr. and Mrs. Crowley seemingly had too much to drink tonight. Both spooked themselves for no reason, and while the wife fled her husband tripped and hit his head on the edge of a table. Poor bastard bled out and died."

Colt felt a tinge of sadness. He really did like the man, and his wife was a good woman. Once she sobered up, she was sure to feel the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"That's upsetting."

"Indeed, it is," Ezekiel almost spoke in a singsong voice, brushing down his coat as he seemingly prepared to leave for the night. "A tragedy like this must be dealt with carefully, Mr. Townsend. That woman would be so torn by grief she will actually believe she did see something'. Perhaps blame the death on that said thing."

Horley shook his head, trying not to imagine the well-respected Mrs. Crowley going crazy. He seemingly bit the inside of his mouth, pondering on what to do before turning to his newest worker.

"Ezekiel, was it? Tell the Sheriff to start spreading word of Mr. Crowley's funeral tomorrow. Tell him to say they drank far too much. Caused them to hallucinate and- well you know the rest. We don't need the folks here thinking there's a mad man peeping in people's houses. I'm sure Mrs. Crowley will have a fit and stand by her word- that stubborn woman. Best to keep her calm, though."

Ezekiel gave a nod of approval, heading towards the door to exit the estate. Before leaving, he gave a final turn and tipped his hat towards the father and son, his gaze lingering on the latter.

"I hope you have a wonderful night, Mr. Townsend."

Colt was about to respond with a 'likewise', but Horley thought the farewell greeting was for him. He gave a simple flick of his wrist without even turning his head.

The mysterious man smirked and departed, leaving Colt to wonder what the next day would bring for all of them at Graveflat.