Name lost to time, where only the dishonorable were now buried, it was known as Mother’s Scar. A terrible translation; yet, it was accurate enough. Where the cursed and damned were consigned, they hid. Dark spirits cut bargains of dire consequences, and when the time came to collect, the cost of unholy compact exacted horrific cost.

To this strange tale Cassidy shook his head. At the end of his mind, more was too much. “It is only a woman,” whispered Cassidy, “nothing more.”

Through the door he flew. Beset by Dark Watchers, San Oscuro held back the tide of the terrible figures. He threw himself out into the waiting choirs, who sung the hymns of disquiet.

Betwixt the celestial shores and infernal abattoirs, the drab land held a peace wrought of ignorant bliss. Tranquility ruled, where all dozed and nearly slept, in this unsettled dream. To die was to wake; from the ephemeral world we were lulled, into the abject fate. All alive were consigned to sullied awareness of their true place.

Sleepy land too could doze, perhaps dream. Well-worn road was carved into the serene earth, where many drowned in euphoric musing of life in a new land. Busy was the business of wagering one’s future. The skull face of the moon lowered, yet it shattered upon the pond. Beside the tracks it was ignored, despite its beauty unspoiled. Under the star dappled heavens the night drew on. Beneath the bough of the gallows tree, no strange fruit swung in the impulsive winds. Across from the peaceful waters its gnarled wood promised to awaken the wicked from the lie of this life. Around this crossroad, stagecoaches halted to the delight of rapacious despoilers. The ocean called, entreated passengers, and welcomed all though indifferent to the danger. North and south, east and west, the crossroad were crossed by the living or dead.

The heiress, heart asunder, road along the tracks, but this Cassidy had suspected. Love had bloomed, only to be severed, and left only a withered husk. He watched, though he dwelled on the night.

“Cassidy,” spoken from the wind, voice a raspy kiss in the ear.

Up to the heavens his eyes rose. Between the ocean’s assurance and a coming tempest, he searched. “Leave me,” Cassidy beseeched, “to my life adrift and alone.”

Was he meant to never see his love, his Caroline? Angels in Heaven surely watched him in his sorrow. The weeping of the Celestial Witnesses would drown a wicked world. Beyond comfort, he could only pine for them. Through calloused, murderous hands all hope of making their circle whole had slipped through fingers. As the blood he spilled, so much it had stained Cassidy’s soul; all piteous desires were fleeting. Bereaved, all chance to be comforted in death’s embrace was never bring him any he’d lost. Maybe, he thought, these winged messengers could carry a prayer from one bereft.

Upon these dismal ruminations, dark plumed birds replied just out of sight. Only one word, they spoke. In his name there was a promise. Though the Heavens denied him in sorrow, in the Pits of the Inferno there was forgiveness, understanding. Life is hard; it is dreary, this call bespoke. So much horror, human hearts burst with iniquity, that none was meant to be righteous. All fell from grace, even the beauteous Seraphim. None such as the bounty hunter tread in splendor or balm of the Father’s love. Better to accept one’s truth.

Shaken by these thoughts, his eyes turned inward. Inside was always a truth. The stone garden of Cassidy’s heart was a cemetery. Righteous or wicked, innocent or heart black as pitch, he kept them in the unsettled ground of his soul. Sepulchers, tombs, mausoleums, and unmarked graves were grand or forgotten. They were there in patient contemplation. Cages for the flesh were symbols of the departed, which haunted him in the long hours of the night. Calmly they called for remembrance.

“Cassidy,” the Dark Watchers repeated, only a name, but so much more. In this simple whisper they invited him to lie down in an earthen plot, beside the memories of his friends and foes, fiends and fighters. Be with them, so the falsehood of this numbing dream could be undone.

“Nothing more,” gasped the bounty hunter, but the truth was never to be denied. “Lift from my heart this veil of darkness,” he muttered, as one beyond hope of comfort.

Out among the high grass, Kathyleen drew closer. Like a rock cat, she prowled in search. To the stagecoach she gazed yet looked out for another. Perhaps Hellcat felt a predator, so feared to pounce, thought the bounty hunter. Awash in silver glow, rolling flames of hair became rivers of spectral crimson. Lips, red as the vampire’s kiss, spread in dreaded nerve. Shed of the high collar coat and tricorn hat, Cassidy guessed there was no reason for ruse now. In the very act he would catch the maiden with mane of fresh spilled blood, for he’d poured out much upon the earth to know its hue. The lady of such cunning grace would swing on yonder tree, as the other Highwayman, Cassidy knew. Another would join his stone garden by daybreak.

By some trick of nerve, the stagecoach driver’s eyes wondered over to Kathyleen Midhir. With a wild laugh, she burst from cover, but Cassidy had already gained a lot of ground. Back violent green eyes fell, instincts of a mountain lion, to see she’d picked up a pursuer. Terror turned to annoyance, when she saw the bounty hunter in her wake. Whomever she expected, Cassidy would deal with them. Banshee scream peeled from her, as she spurred her horse into a gallop.

Across the road they flew. Kathyleen searched the moonlight, and drew closer to the stagecoach. To Cassidy’s chagrin, she was an excellent horseman, yet slower was her steed. A wild curse left ruby lips to be trampled by the gallop of horse.

Past the stagecoach, as the damsel heiress swooned, they galloped. Hooves on earth beat a dirge. Death came, fleet of foot, to the requiem of the savage heart. Each breath, every exhalation, sung an executioner’s song. The beat was manic. Its rhythm was bedlam. In both resounded; though, raw nerve this lust for blood was plucked. Amped, raw, and electric ballet of the pursuit drew ever higher.