There Will Be Bloodshed (Game Over)

[Nicodemus]

Midday in the small Texas town of Spindletop. The customary ringing of the noonday bells was noticeably absent, as the tiny village church had closed its doors some days prior. It wasn’t that no one wanted religion any longer – far from it. But attendance had been down ever since the minister had taken a bullet through his throat during the call to worship, and parishioners decided en masse that they could just as easily be saved in the safety of their own homes. For a few days, at least. It wasn’t long, though, before the bullets that brought down Father Pierce were finding their way through locked doors and bolted windows and into those parts of the body that are most necessary for continued existence. Spindletop was a small town to begin with, and this crime wave of unprecedented proportions decimated the populace. In desperation, a town meeting had been called in the hopes that those responsible for the killings could be found.
A cool breeze swept through the square as the townsfolk began to assemble. The newly installed sound system was already running, playing jaunty marches that faded horribly into the silence of the day. The townspeople stood in a loose semi-circle around the bandstand, casting dark looks this way and that as The Stars and Stripes Forever blared joyfully. Standing just to the right of the bandstand was Mayor Thomas Slade, a large man with an impressive mustache, and as the recording trumpeted the final notes and the townsfolk clapped half-heartedly he quickly climbed the stairs to the podium and addressed the small crowd.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls-”
A voice rang from the back. “What boys and girls? They’re all gone ain’t they?” A shocked look crossed Mayor Slade’s face, before being replaced by one of righteous indignation.
“Yes, of course they are, and none are more saddened by that than I am. But you sir, you know the reason why they are no longer with us. And so does everyone else here!”
A murmur of agreement ran through the crowd as the man at the podium ran a hand across his face.
“Yes, we all know the cause. We’ve been talking about it in hushed whispers in back rooms for months now, but it’s time to get it out in the open. We are being held captive by those sons of BITCHES over at Texaco, and finally I say enough is enough. We can’t run anymore. We must stand and fight. It is our duty as Texans, as Americans, as Goddamned human beings, and we will prevail!”
This time the cheering was sincere and strong, and the mayor smiled back with confidence.
“I know we can stop them. I’ve known everyone here my entire life, and I know how honest and how intelligent you all are. If everyone works together, I know we can find those in our midst responsible for the murders of our family and friends, and we’ll make them pay for the bloodshed they’ve brought to Spindletop!”
Another cheer rang out from the crowd, and as the townsfolk clapped something else rang out as well – a single gunshot. Mayor Slade jerked backwards and then lurched forward, his eyes rolling in his head. Screams rose from the crowd, matching and surpassing the sounds of their cheers a moment before. The townspeople rushed forward to help their fallen mayor, but it was far, far too late.
The townsfolk stood looking down at their leader in silence. And then, as one, they began to walk slowly towards the large oak tree which grew in the corner of the square. The oak tree, which, just a few hours previously, had been outfitted with a noose, a platform, and a trapdoor.