Snippet #2630575

The guards heard the noise, sure enough, and looked around, trying to catch where it had come from. The two bandits conversed for a brief minute, before they left their posts, heading over to the corner Anna and Horatio hid behind. Their footsteps echoed softly into the dirt and gravel below them, announcing their presence as they came closer and closer to the Pack...

They rounded the corner, not expecting anything at all....and that was when Horatio struck. While Anna dealt with the other guard, he leaped, tackling the man to his right! They tumbled to the ground hard, Horatio landing on top of him. In the chaos of the fall, the bandit's gun was knocked loose from his hands, giving the older Dog a prime opportunity to slay his opponent.

Before he could cry for help, he roughly grabbed the man's face, using it as leverage to smash his head against the ground and cover his mouth, at the same time. Dazed from both the sudden tackle and the blow to the head, the bandit wasn't prepared at all when Horatio plunged his Bowie knife into the man's throat! His blade pierced straight through the sinner's neck, the blade sticking into the ground beneath them as he bleed out, squirts of blood shooting out from the severe wound. The man below him was seizing up as he gave a muffled cry....gurgling out his last breaths as he struggled beneath Horatio.

The bandit became still all too soon, the stab to his neck near instantly fatal. Crimson blood stained the man's shirt, seeping down to his chest as blood flowed from the wound on his neck; it even stuck to Horatio some too, staining his own clothes. Not to mention the squirts of blood that had splashed against his own face. It was a minor annoyance, but one Horatio was more than used to, given his job.

Hell, he was more than used to killing a man (or woman) up close. He'd done as much with the Marston gang...hunting those bastards down over the years. When he had to, he'd shoot them from a distance...but for most of the kills, they'd been up close and personal. Sometimes he'd even used his own hands.

The men that tortured him and murdered his family deserved no less, after all. And Chester Marston would suffer a similar fate to that of his men, once he finally found that son of a bitch.

Horatio stayed atop the bandit a moment more, before finally climbing back up to his feet, dusting himself off slightly. He reached down and pulled his Bowie knife from out of the bandit's neck, the blade of his weapon now soaked in blood. His coat and shirt were equally stained crimson, and more than a few streaks of red coated his face. The blood wasn't in his eyes though, so he didn't wipe it off just yet. Perhaps it'd even serve some good; maybe sight of a blood-streaked man would help demoralize the gang of bandits.

He turned to face his protege, curious to see how Anna had dealt with her target. "Everything clear on your end, Anna?"