"Hey, Johnny I heard you found something at your farm?"

Johnny, sitting in front of the teacher and trying his hardest to ignore him, was jiggling his foot about so vigorously it was a blur of motion rattling the table. The distracted teacher seemed not to notice or simply ignore it, but as the school day came to an end, I realized that Johnny's foot hadn't lessened its crazed tap-tap-tapping during the entire day.

As Johnny shot up from his seat, he grabbed my hand tightly and pulled me from my place and out of the classroom and then the school. Not long after we had both exited the school I finally got to hear about what he'd found.

With a massive grin on his face, Johnny finally spilled the beans, whispering:

"OK, you're not going to believe this, but yesterday I was going over our farm with a new metal detector that dad’s bought. As I was going around our well, it went off with a beep, and so I got a trowel from my shed, and dug around. And I found a gun! And not any kind, a Colt Peacemaker."

Seeing my confused look , he sighed in exasperation at my lack of knowledge or interest before trying again:

"The gun that cowboys really liked back in the day. An excellent gun."

Then a vague spark of realisation ignited in my head. When I started nodding to Johnny's satisfaction, he continued:

"Well, although the gun was really dirty it was pretty beautiful too. So I hid it, ‘cos I knew my dad and ma would definitely take it off me if they found out."

I thought to myself that his parents were actually very sensible, although I bit my tongue, but my heart betrayed the thoughts as it beat rapidly against his chest. Johnny, though, had no idea of my internal conflict and continued his excitable chatter.

"Anyway, I'm going to see if I can sneak some ammo away from my dad's supply. It'll be best if you don't get seen if I’m caught, so you should hide somewhere while I go in."

As we reached Johnny's home he told me to wait at the entrance of the farm away from the main road. After finding a place in Eden Green hedge, I crouched on the firm, dry ground. Within minutes I saw Johnny moving about in his living room before disappearing, and then re-appearing at his own bedroom window where he waved towards me and gave the thumbs-up before disappearing again for ten minutes there was no movement or sound. Then an engine ignited out of sight of the hedge the droning noise grew louder, pushing back into the foliage and watched as a red Mustang pulled out of the Johnny's driveway, pausing at the exit the male shadow checking both directions before he pulled out and drove way.

I relaxed back reassured that no one's going to be coming out, but then with no warning a flurry of distant shouting broke out and then I saw Johnny bursting out of the front door running down the path towards me. There was some kind of feminine shadow looking out of the doorway behind him, and hovering as if watching. Johnny didn't stop until he was well around the corner and out of sight of the house.

Getting up from the hedge very carefully so as not to the disturb the foliage, I ran after Johnny my heart drumming against my ribs. When I caught up to him I saw a red hand-mark stamped on his face, and asked:

"What happened? You didn't get caught, did you?"

Johnny shook he head, rubbing his cheek,

"No, almost was mind you. Could only grab a handful before my sister came in blaming me for all her problems, so I told her to bugger off and, well, she slapped me. While we were at it like cats and dogs ma came in and took her side, as usual, so I got angry, and ran before she could hear the brass cases jangling in my pocket."

I nodded my sympathy for his crazy family situation, adding:

“Well at least you can take your anger out on something like glass bottles, and practise your aim at the same time."

A grin began to creep across Johnny's face as his hand dived into his pocket. The sound of metal on metal rattled out around us as he got rid of used tissue and old sweet wrappers. At last I saw six golden and grey bullets. When he had counted them out, the two of us raced off into closest and thickest woods where we wouldn't be seen or heard.

We got close to the river where the rushing water would do an excellent job of filtering out the sound of gunshots. We then turned off the path and followed the river down into small clearing where we were sure no one would possibly disturb us .

Johnny pulled off his rucksack and started taking out precise equipment, oils, small and big brushes, grease and other useful items Having arranged them on a flat rock he disappeared into the woods. When he returned, he cradled in his hands a muddy gun.

As I admired the gun with its long sleek frame and single-action mechanics, Johnny grabbed the brush and started furiously scrubbing the weapon As huge flakes of mud fell off it, he was surprised to see that it was pleasingly rust-free and still had a slight shine in his excitement to see the gun in action, he rapidly gouged the mud out from every gap and hole.

With only the oiling left to go, I decided to set up six targets prices of wood, one or two glass bottles that were lying on the ground.

When this makeshift target range had been set up and the gun thoroughly cleaned and oiled, Johnny practised pulling the lever and checked that the pin and gears all worked. He was pleasantly surprised to find there didn't appear to be any faults with it.

So Johnny flicked the cylinder out and filled all six chambers. When he pushed it closed the round was locked, and I made sure I was standing right behind him. I knew Johnny had been taught gun safety from a young age but I still had to ask with a grin on my face and a light-hearted tone in my voice:

"So how good of a shot are you again?"

Johnny shrugged,

"I'm OK. Um, David, do you think you could wait and have a go next time I get some bullets –there aren't that many, and I really need to get this out of my system."

"Yeah, no problem – but you promise it’s my go next time?"

Johnny smiled and turning his head towards me, laughing,

"Thank you, man, I promise next time you get to go first – and we’ll bring better targets then that lot."

Nodding, I put my fingers into my ears. Johnny had gone still I noticed that there was a look of intense concentration on his face as he bought the gun up in front of him. Then, leaning into it, he pulled the trigger.

Bang! One bullet went

Bang! The second bullet went.

Bang! The third bullet shot out

Bang! The fourth bullet flew out

Bang! The fifth bullet rocketed out

Bang! The last sixth bullet emptied the casing.

All six shots had left the gun, and all six of the bullets had missed the targets.

"Johnny I know you said you were OK at shooting, but that's zero out of six hits, and it's only about thirty-foot."

When I saw him pouting I added, trying to be a bit more jovial:

"Oh, I wonder how in the world you'd manage at 50 foot?"

Johnny swung his elbow, jabbing me in the ribs,

"Oh, it’s not fair – I have no idea what happened. I thought my aim was perfect!"

For some unknown reason, Johnny's arm with the gun in it was now pointing straight at his own head. My heart was hammering in my chest as I cried ,

"Dude! Don’t do that, even if it is empty!"

Johnny jumped when he heard my voice as if he’d only just realised he was pointing the gun at himself. His pupils shrank to the size of a pin, as he stared down the barrel, now inches from his face.

The muscles on his arms bulged as he tried to move the gun, but he couldn’t budge it a single millimetre. Now, his strangled voice had a tinge of panic in it:

"David, I can't move, and there's another bullet in there!"

"Come on, man, stop messing about.”

Johnny's other hand had started pushing against his arm to get the gun away from him. His voice was filled with panic and he was on the verge of tears,

"I'm not faking it, help me!"

I saw the hammer pulling itself back with a click that sent a chill down my back. Not knowing what to do, I leapt forward without thinking, grabbed the arm holding the gun, and pulled, hard.

From this point of view, my nose almost touching the weapon, I watched as the trigger pulled itself closed. I put my whole back into trying to shift the arm, and as I struggled the gun’s aim moved a centimetre or so away from Johnny's head -- and in a split second, with a loud bang, the hair on his head was violently thrown about.

At that instant, whatever unseen force that had been compelling Johnny immediately disappeared. With all of the resistance gone, he and I both fell to the ground, our hands reaching to clutch at our ears. When I managed to regain enough focus, I turned to check what was happening, and saw that Johnny was splashing his way back up to the road through the wet grass

As Johnny blundered his way tripping and slipping on rocks beneath the river. I called out to him,

"Johnny, wait! What's happening?"

Johnny either couldn't hear or ignored my voice, and continued running. Unable to just leave my friend to his own devices I gave chase, blundering through the disturbed water after him.

As Johnny reached the road, he shot off, back towards his home. I followed as best I could. At least I wanted to know that he got back safely. When I reached the dirt road to Johnny's house I looked towards it and could make out his small shadowy figure in the doorway.

Dithering about whether I should go and check on him, I paced back and forth on the road for a few seconds. But I was stopped in my tracks when I saw some black smoke billowing up on the horizon. As soon as I saw this, an intense feeling of foreboding overcame me, and I turned back to the doorway where I was still able to see the figure. I found myself running towards the shrinking shadow.

As my boots thunked on the wooden steps up to the front door, I approached Johnny who had slumped to the floor at the entrance of his home. Johnny was transfixed by something within his home.

Stepping up beside him, I at last discovered the reason for his disposition. I'll never forget what I saw in that old-fashioned living room. The floor was bright and glittering with fractured glass. And in the middle of two large pools of crimson liquid lay two female bodies how glitter with broken glass.

But worst of all was the sight of the finger-sized holes dead in the centre of each of their heads. I glanced down, horrified, to see Johnny’s blank stare. He was utterly motionless but breathing fast. I knelt down beside him trying in vain to get him up on his feet and out of there. We needed to move – he couldn’t stay there and stare at that blood-bath.

Hooking one of my arms through Johnny’s, I pulled him up and away with his feet scrambling to pick himself up the door closed as they left the entrance. As his sense of self returned with my help, he managed to stand upright, although his eyes were still blank and lost.

Grabbing him by the shoulder, I turned my stunned friend to face me, staring straight into his eyes, muttered:

"It's OK, I’ll be go for help, and whatever happens I'll be here."

A thud resounded from the closed door, then a red mist blanketed my sight, and a huge weight tumbled into my arms. I sank onto my knees on the wooden floor, as a hot wetness smeared across my chest. The loud heavy thunk of metal on wood filled my ears. I stared into my lifeless friend's eyes and as the weight became too heavy I had to rest his lifeless body on the floor. My gaze fell on the ground where I heard the metal hit the wood and saw the Peacemaker resting in a pool of blood, untarnished.

This article is based on a true story. Thanks to the ADI (Archive of Dangerous Items) for allowing us into their records section so that we can learn from them and then teach others.

This item, a Colt single-action Peacemaker, was found in 1982, on a farm in America, redacted, redacted.

Danger Rating: B-

The Colt Peacemaker with its six chambered rounds, which is believed to have been cursed by a shaman to kill without fail whoever the holder wishes. However there is very little first-hand knowledge regarding this, since everyone using the gun has been killed by the seventh bullet which appears to be unavoidable and unstoppable of its pursuit.

This account was compiled by David Davis, one of the rare eye-witnesses who saw the effects of the cursed weapon whilst someone else was in possession of it. He has been in the employment of ADI since his pursuit of similarly unusual items came to the attention of the organisation.

Byline Starfury