Chapter 2: Prelude

                                    

                                          
Most people in town that night only saw the end of a blood red coat disappear around corners, but those in the local pub got far more of a show. The man sauntered inside, he was unfamiliar to the locals in this little town's favourite drinking establishment, and the stares of rowdy regulars made that abundantly clear. He didn't seem to even notice the stares, he'd had worse looks thrown his way a million times. He simply stalked his way to the bar, sweeping his long coat out of the way to perch on a vacant bar stool. The barkeep cast a worried glance, between the rowdiest bunch in the room and his new guest before asking if he'd like to order a drink. The man thought for a moment, and sighed before ordering a bloody mary, which was quickly given to him.The man was only partway through his drink before the loudest (and probably drunkest) of the group of regulars to this establishment, all past their prime, mostly overweight and balding, staggered his drunken way towards the man who he thought looked like a careless rich kid. "You ain't from round these parts are ya boy?" the drunken regular managed to slur out. The man in red stared into his cup for a moment with a resigned sigh before replying to this annoyance, "Well then, how can I help your delightful self this evening? Are you perhaps in search of a breath mint, since yourself and your lackeys seem bereft of them? Seriously I can smell all of their breath from over here, not to mention yours." The drunken man took a moment to process the insult he'd just recieced, before becoming instantaniously furious and reaching for the man in red's collar. Not even the sober people in the room saw the man in red's hand move, before anyone even noticed movement it was wrapped around the drunk's wrist firmly. The drunk tried to pry his hand away but the man in red didn't move an inch. The man in red finally moved his head to look in the direction of the drunk, with his free hand he adjusted his round shades to stare over them with eyes of crimson flame, "If you want to start a fight, start it fucking properly!" He snarled excitedly with a predatory smirk. As the drunk's hand was freed he snatched it back to his chest, he looked and felt a lot more sober than he had been a second ago, "W-what the hell are you talking about?" he snarled out in fury and fear, the stranger's eyes had unsettled him more than he cared to admit. The rest of the pub's patrons had begun to take notice, but for now were watching in anticipation of a good old bar fight. The man in red stood, "What I'm talking about," he growled with a grin "is taking that gun out of your waistband, putting it right here below my chin, pulling the trigger, and seeing what fucking happens!" The drunk had started reaching for his gun midway through this sentence, hesitating slightly, but he did eventually pull out his pistol as he stepped away, pointing it at the creature in red. The presence of this weapon immediately changed the air of the pub, people began hiding behind tables and chairs, but still watching in curiosity. The red cloaked figure didn't hesitate from the weapon pointed at him, he calmly stepped forward with his arms spread and a manic grin still on his face, "What's wrong gunslinger, losing your nerve? If you're carrying steel you must be ready to kill right? DO IT!" His speech escalated from arrogant predator to deranged maniac very quickly towards the end, and everyone quickly shifted their priorities from watching to hiding. The drunk with the gun was shaking and sweating as the creature in red stepped slowly forwards, not pulling the trigger. The red demon stopped right in his face, uncomfortably close, the drunk could smell iron on this creaure's breath as it spoke "Come on I'm making it so easy for you," he began to whisper manically as he clasped the drunks hands in his own, almost tenderly."If you carry a weapon you must be ready to kill," he began to pull the drunk's hands upward."If you're ready to kill then do it," he guided the drunks hands to shove the gun roughly against the underside of his chin."Set me free gunslinger, give it your best shot, set me free set me free SET ME FREE!"The gunshot thundered through the small pub, everyone there covered their ears and averted their eyes on instinct.All except the man in red who didn't even flinch, not from the noise, nor from the bullet passing through his skull. By the time the drunk looked up at him the wound was already gone, healed so fast that the beast didn't even lose a drop of blood. The drunk didn't hear the man in read sigh, nor did he hear him say "What a bastard shame that is, wishful thinking I know but still... oh well, no witnesses." By the time the pubs clientelle dared to peek from their hiding places at what they assumed would be a dead man in red, he had already torn the head from the drunk and was showering in the fountain of gore it created. Then all they saw was a flash of silver, and then they were gone.