Beauregard

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Manliest » Thu Feb 14, 2013 12:34 am

Good.

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Nightwing » Thu Feb 14, 2013 1:23 am

You are going to have to turn this one into a published piece. This story is one of the absolute best I've read in a long time. It is a very addicting read, hell i am on the site more just to see if you've updated.
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Re: Beauregard

Post by RoneKiln » Thu Feb 14, 2013 2:51 am

What I love, is that with this being flashback, there's a sequel waiting for when they have to deal with what prompted the flashback. :D

I'm glad you found a way to reduce the nonstop swearing and rape threats from earlier in the hunt. I wish I was a skilled enough writer to suggest how to do so further and still keep everything in character.
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Re: Beauregard

Post by Ponyboy314 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 3:27 am

RoneKiln wrote:What I love, is that with this being flashback, there's a sequel waiting for when they have to deal with what prompted the flashback. :D

I'm glad you found a way to reduce the nonstop swearing and rape threats from earlier in the hunt. I wish I was a skilled enough writer to suggest how to do so further and still keep everything in character.
The language that the residents of Beauregard were using, along with those rape threats, were included to make the reader feel uncomfortable, and to truly hate the antagonists of the story. The people of that town are evil incarnate, and I wanted the reader to absolutely know that. It wasn't that I found a way to reduce it. It was because it was no longer applicable to the story.

If you don't care for that sort of thing, than any of my stories are probably not for you.

Thank you for reading.

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Ponyboy314 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 3:50 am

Erin looked up at Sean with a feeling of near terror. The very fact that he was alive meant that the psychos outside were dead, but she didn’t see Dean or Rosalind with him, and then there was that look on his face, the look of a man who had killed and thought virtually nothing of it. The fact that his face was painted with blood wasn’t helping. This was not the same Sean Percival Valencourt who had such a difficult time dealing with his killing of Robert Stiller. This was someone who had passed some kind of threshold that she couldn’t truly understand. This was someone who more or less had to become like his enemy. She had heard the saying, “you become what you fight,” but she had never really seen an example for herself. Not until now.

She said, in a shaky, quivering voice, “Sean…where…are…”

“They took Dean and Rosalind. They’re heading back to town, now.”

“Where did…”

“They took them to the pit.” Sean’s voice seemed devoid of feeling, or of anything else remotely human.

“How do…”

“I had a very polite conversation with one of those hunters outside, specifically the one who shot Sam. He was…very forthcoming with information. I just gave him a gentle nudge in the right direction and he was all too happy to share what he knew with me. We need to go. We’re walking out of here fast. There still might be time to save them.”

Erin and Greg came upstairs and got ready to move. Greg asked, “What are we doing? What the hell are we going to do now?”

“We’re going to your cabin. We’re going to get whatever’s still there, and kill anyone who’s waiting for us. Then, we’re going to the pit.”

Greg blurted out, “The pit? Are you fucking crazy? That’s…”

“I know what’s there, Greg. But if there’s any chance of saving your friends, that’s where we need to go. Or at least…that’s where I need to go. After we leave your cabin, make your decision then. You can try to skip town, or you can help me end this bullshit. I’m not going to lie. You had better get used to the idea that Dean and Rosalind will probably be dead before we can get to them In fact, the chances of them being alive are remote in the extreme. But I’m willing to give them a chance. Grab your backpacks and empty them of anything we don’t absolutely need. You’ll want the free space soon. I just learned that your cabin is only a couple of miles from here. Greg, we might need you to help get us there. I don’t want to be too close to the road. Now saddle up. We’re leaving. Anyone else who comes here is in for something of a surprise, and I don’t want to be nearby when they see it.”

Still unnerved by this new version of Sean, Erin and Greg nevertheless did what they were told. Sean handed Greg a rifle, the rifle of that young shit up on the hill who had met his end within seconds of coming around a tree.

“Greg, do you know how to use this thing?”

“Yeah. I’ve fired something like this plenty of times.”

“There’s a few rounds on the table. About sixteen or seventeen. Drop that shotgun. It’s a piece of shit. Time to upgrade. Erin, we’ll get something appropriate for you before long.”

Their backpacks were emptied and put on, and within one more minute, they were out the door, handrailing the road again, moving at a strong pace.

Sean did not turn around as he said, “Greg, you’ve said that you and Dean have been out here before. If something starts looking familiar, you need to tell me.”

“I don’t know this place, Sean. Dean and I were never out this far.”

Sean continued, “At this pace, we should be in sight of your cabin inside of an hour, provided that we go the right way. But I want you both to know something. This ends tonight. I’m not here when the sun comes up. In fact, when the sun comes up, we’re not even near this place. We’re leaving tonight. Whether or not we can save Dean and Rosalind, we’re gone. Plan A got scrapped when those motherfuckers jumped us at Sam Horton’s place. Plan B is the one that gets us out of here. So when shit goes down, and it will, get ready. Our departure from this place isn’t going to be pretty. But we’re getting out.”

After half an hour or so, with the road no longer in sight on their left but still headed in the direction Sean wanted, Greg told the others to stop.

Sean didn’t turn. “What is it, Greg?”

“This place. I know it. About three years ago, I bagged an awesome deer here, a big eight-pointer. We were staying in the same cabin that trip. Man, you should have…”

Sean interrupted, “You know the way to the cabin from here, without getting closer to the road?”

“Yeah. I can get us there in maybe forty-five minutes, if we hustle.”

“Lead the way, Greg. And keep that rifle ready to dance. Let’s fucking move.”

Over the next few minutes, sound from off in the distance, the sounds of engines, told Sean and the others that someone on the road was probably on the verge of finding something at the Horton place, but he couldn’t be sure. After all, how would they even know to stop there? None of the bodies could be seen from the road, and it was possible that the other hunters would respect Sam’s right to not get involved, a right that no longer mattered.
Last edited by Ponyboy314 on Thu Jul 18, 2013 6:52 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Beauregard

Post by GotMak » Thu Feb 14, 2013 4:00 am

Shit, PB, how am I supposed to get any sleep now?!?
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Re: Beauregard

Post by Ponyboy314 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 5:00 am

Greg stepped in front, with Sean right behind and Erin next to him, setting a good pace as Greg seemed to know perfectly well where he was going. Sean, for his part, seemed unconcerned about the possibility of running into any hunters on the way. He doubted that any were between them and the cabin. They were most likely behind them, still in the woods, trying desperately to find this young man who had, as far as anyone was concerned, outfoxed them at every turn and killed four residents of their town. Sooner or later, however, someone would see that the number had jumped to six, but by then, it would almost certainly be higher.

Erin turned to Sean, still nervous about the corner he appeared to have turned. He was so different now, his face decorated in the blood of his enemy like some ancient Dark Age warrior, and with emotion appearing to have been purged from his very being. Still, the Sean she had come to know in such a short time was still in there, and it was to this Sean that she tried to speak.

“Sean, do you really think we can get to Dean and Rosalind in time?”

Sean didn’t avert his eyes from where he was going. “No. I think they’ll be dead long before we get to them. The smart thing to do would be to get out of this place the moment it gets dark, and it’ll be soon that the sun starts to go down. But even if we have a tiny chance, we need to try. If Dean and Rosalind die, it shouldn’t be because we didn’t do everything we could to help them.”

“Then what? What do we do then, Sean?”

“We get into that lot and get our cars. We get the fuck out of here. If we can get your friends back, then we all hold hands and coast on out of here like a bunch of fucking hippies. If we can’t get them back, then we get out of here with just a couple of more terrible memories that we’ll never outlive. But before we leave, we’re giving the fine people of Beauregard, Tennessee a little gift to remember us by. If our luck holds, once we’re gone, they’ll never find us. They might look for us, probably for revenge, probably to bury their secret, but they’ll probably look for us after we escape. But if they never find us, they’ll never forget that we were here. Not after what I’ve done, and what we’re going to do.”

“What are we going to do, Sean? What? What can we do to this whole town?”

“Something the police chief said to us, Erin. It’s been on my mind a lot since we started running. He said that we’re in hell and the only way out is through. That asshole said that like he has any idea what it means. He doesn’t. He knows how to put others through hell, but he’s never seen it for himself. Before this is over, he’ll see hell. He’ll see it and he’ll be afraid, and he’ll go through. I have another hell in store for this town. But they chased us through hell. We’re going to show them a level of hell they’ve never seen and will never fucking forget.”

“Sean, I’m so…”

Sean cut her off, allowing some kind of strong feeling to return to his voice just for that one sentence.

“Erin, you’re really pretty…you know that?”

“What did you say?”

“Anyway, we get to the cabin, we get to town, we get your friends if we can, we get our cars, and we get gone. The details you’ll learn as we go.”

“Sean, what did you say? Before that, I mean?”

“I said, we’ll show them a level of hell they’ve never seen.”

Erin understood just fine. The real Sean poked his head out for one sentence, saw his shadow, six more weeks of nightmares, and went right back into his hole.

No sight or sound of the hunters, not even a single truck tearing ass down the road, for the whole of the trip filled Greg with confidence about their chances, though Erin was still afraid and Sean was, or at least looked too stoic to even care about whether or not they were walking into certain death. They kept walking even as the sun began to drop below the horizon

After a time, Greg slowed for a few paces, then stopped completely. Sean checked his watch, only to realize that he could barely see it. He was at least able to tell that it was past seven. They had not walked with the pace that he had hoped, but the darkness would perhaps have its uses.

“Guys, I hear voices. The cabin is right over this hill, but I think that someone’s there. Shit, we’re too late. Fuck! We’ll never get our…”

Sean cut him off. “Shut up, Greg. If they’re waiting for us, they still won’t see us coming. If they’re here for any other reason, then that’s just better. But keep it down. Stay behind me until we get closer. Don’t make a sound. When I go in, keep an eye open. If someone else shows up, then remember what I told you. Aim and squeeze. If you’ve bagged a deer before, then you can shoot. But these fuckers are lower than any animal. Don’t hesitate. Shoot and kill.”

Greg asked, “Sean, what the fuck are you going to do?”

“Make some new friends.”
Last edited by Ponyboy314 on Thu Feb 14, 2013 7:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Beauregard

Post by Shellyann36 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 6:25 am

AWESOME!!!! MOAR!!!
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Re: Beauregard

Post by Ponyboy314 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 6:26 am

Now, their pace had slowed to a virtual crawl, and they became more like hunters themselves, moving silently, looking and listening, getting closer to those at the cabin in no hurry.

It was dark enough now that the lights of the cabin were on, both inside and out. When they came over the hill and down to within a stone’s throw of the place where the story of the hunt truly began, Sean felt as though he was returning to the scene of a crime, and in a sense, he was. Here was the scene of grand theft auto, and another attempted. Also at this cabin were seven cases of kidnapping and one of assault and battery, leaving one of their number half-blind. And worst of all to any first-year legal student was that the ringleader was a law enforcement officer, so it was all done under color of authority. Unlawful imprisonment came to mind as well. It had only been less than forty-eight hours since Sean and the others were last here, and in that time, six twisted, evil men had died. Two of Erin’s own friends were dead, and two more, in all likelihood, were by now. And on top of all of that, they had come to learn that a dark secret lurked just beneath the surface of this town.

That secret was that something that could not exist, did.

What was it about this place? Why did such evil things lurk here? Those things, out there in the woods, probably being herded into trucks for safekeeping for the night, or back in the pit at the old prison, what truly were they? Walking dead bodies, that was clear enough, but how did they exist? How could the dead do anything but rot? How had they kept this secret for so long? How long had it even been going on? The ones out there or in the pit were recently hurled into undeath, Sean knew. They were the unluckiest of the game that was hunted in this place. But how had it begun? Did the local Indians hunt these creatures, their own dead, before white men ever came to this place? Did they fear them or respect them as the spirits of hunters and warriors or some such thing? Why had no one ever recognized the walking dead for the abominations, the curse, the disease…for what they truly were? Why had they not been destroyed? This place had been the haunt of men like Davy Crockett. Had he ever seen this for himself? Did so many Civil War battles happen around this place yet no one ever knew what secret this place held? What had poisoned the minds of the people of this place for so long that they turned themselves and this walking nightmare on defenseless people for no greater reason than their own amusement?

If he lived, would Sean ever know the answers to any of these questions? Would he be able to live with never knowing, or if he ever did learn the answers, would he be able to live with knowing such terrible things? Could he ever be the same after coming face-to-face with the terrible secret of Beauregard, Tennessee?

Sean was shaken from his reverie.

“Are you okay?” Erin asked.

“I’m fine. We’re close enough. You and Greg wait here. I’m going to go see what’s going on here.”

Greg grabbed Sean’s shoulder. “Dude, look. All the cars are gone. Fuckers already took them.”

“But we know where they are. We’re heading there soon enough. Look at that. A pickup and one of those big trucks, like the one they threw us in…in the driveway.”

They all saw those vehicles, and the men who moved from them to the cabin, walking in with empty hands and back out with the personal belongings of seven people, only three of whom were left to stop them.

“Fuck me, they’re taking all our shit,” Erin muttered. “Why?”

“What else would they do with it?” Greg responded. “But I want my shit back. Fuck, I want my life back. Fuck these guys. Wait, shit. That guy looks nervous as fuck, doesn’t he?” Greg pointed to one of the hunters, pacing around in front of the porch. He seemed to be ordering around the others, but they could only see two others going in and out.

Theft. Another fucking crime.

They crawled closer, close enough to hear the man ordering around the other two. Three men, no one watching their backs, clearly nervous, and most importantly, rushed.

The one in charge, a chunky, older man of at least forty, could not contain his tension as he bossed around the others without doing anything useful himself. He was unarmed, but Sean could see a wooden recurve hunting bow and a leather quiver full of arrows leaning by the pickup. He assumed the older man was the owner.

“For fuck’s sake, can you go any faster? Take it all. Get it in the truck, now! Chief wants this place clean, remember? Everything. No traces. Get it loaded and we’re heading to the station in five. Faster. Fucking faster!”

Another, a much younger man, probably about Sean’s age, came out with each hand carrying a duffel bag and with rifle across his back. “Why not do something yourself, fat ass? Stop freaking us the fuck out!”

“Don’t talk to me like that, punk! I’ll whup your ass until you smell like onions! You have any idea where that crazy fucker is? I don’t! Get this shit loaded and let’s get out of here!”

Greg muttered, “That’s my fucking bag. My wallet’s in there. The mother fuckers.”

Sean then began to set things in motion. “Remember what I told you. If anyone else shows themselves, fucking kill him. Remember that, Greg. Kill the mother fucker. I think I have an idea. I think we can get out of this even faster than I’d thought.”

Erin put her hand gingerly on his shoulder. “What are you thinking, Sean?”

“I’m going to deal with these three assholes. But Erin, don’t look if you don’t think you can handle it. It’s not going to be the prettiest thing you ever saw.”
Last edited by Ponyboy314 on Thu Feb 14, 2013 7:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Beauregard

Post by goofygurl » Thu Feb 14, 2013 6:58 am

Thank you PB! I saw you online early this morning and have been refreshing ever since! :lol:

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Nancy1340 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 8:13 am

And here I have jury duty all day today. I have all day to think about this.......argggggggggggg

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Re: Beauregard

Post by goofygurl » Thu Feb 14, 2013 8:57 am

Nancy1340 wrote:And here I have jury duty all day today. I have all day to think about this.......argggggggggggg

The anticipation will make your return to read it better?

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Re: Beauregard

Post by 223shootersc » Thu Feb 14, 2013 9:59 am

wow, just wow, good stuff, thanks

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Langenator » Thu Feb 14, 2013 12:08 pm

Ponyboy314 wrote:Sean had traveled through hell, and there was still some hell ahead of them. He had been trying to find some way out of this madness, but now, he had finally found the best, and in his case, perhaps the only way to combat the madness of this place.

He had embraced it.
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Re: Beauregard

Post by DarkandShiny » Thu Feb 14, 2013 1:27 pm

Everybody who has read this story already knows how awesome it is. I just wanted to commend PB on his work ethic. Here are the last few entry times:

Wed Feb 13, 2013 8:44 pm
Wed Feb 13, 2013 9:27 pm
Wed Feb 13, 2013 10:34 pm
Thu Feb 14, 2013 12:23 am
Thu Feb 14, 2013 2:50 am
Thu Feb 14, 2013 4:00 am
Thu Feb 14, 2013 5:26 am

Not only is Ponyboy sharing his talent with us for free - he stays up all night writing for us.

Thank you very much - you need to give me your paypal link so I can give you money. Entertainment at this level should never be free.

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Yeti » Thu Feb 14, 2013 1:35 pm

DarkandShiny wrote:Everybody who has read this story already knows how awesome it is. I just wanted to commend PB on his work ethic. Here are the last few entry times:

Wed Feb 13, 2013 8:44 pm
Wed Feb 13, 2013 9:27 pm
Wed Feb 13, 2013 10:34 pm
Thu Feb 14, 2013 12:23 am
Thu Feb 14, 2013 2:50 am
Thu Feb 14, 2013 4:00 am
Thu Feb 14, 2013 5:26 am

Not only is Ponyboy sharing his talent with us for free - he stays up all night writing for us.

Thank you very much - you need to give me your paypal link so I can give you money. Entertainment at this level should never be free.
Don't know if you saw the link earlier around page 5 or so but he does have one published work out there you can support. Dead River, it's the But With A Whimper published.
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Re: Beauregard

Post by Kolat » Thu Feb 14, 2013 2:18 pm

Image
毒を食らわば、皿まで

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Nancy1340 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 6:05 pm

goofygurl wrote:
Nancy1340 wrote:And here I have jury duty all day today. I have all day to think about this.......argggggggggggg

The anticipation will make your return to read it better?

:lol: Well something like that.

Mesquite here Cen Tex.

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Laager » Thu Feb 14, 2013 6:19 pm

Yeti wrote:Don't know if you saw the link earlier around page 5 or so but he does have one published work out there you can support. Dead River, it's the But With A Whimper published.
I ordered a copy a while back, and it is one of my favorite books.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Ponyboy314 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 6:27 pm

Erin didn’t ask Sean to elaborate. She had seen him kill Robert Stiller and Del Chappel, and in neither case did he seem them out gently. She knew there would be more blood, and she didn’t want to see it again but neither did she want to look away. Somehow, Erin felt that seeing something so horrible was a burden she needed to bear if it was being done for her sake.

Sean began to move slowly towards the trucks, staying in the darkness as Greg said, “Good luck.”

Sean just looked over his shoulder, the moonlight barely catching his eye, which winked at Erin and Greg. But for the next thirty seconds, there was no sign of Sean. He couldn’t be seen or heard, and while that might have been largely due to the fat hunter in the driveway, bossing his younger charges around and covering Sean’s noise, it was also easy to believe that Sean was simply being incredibly silent. He had changed since the Horton place, and Erin could only hope that the Sean Valencourt that was buried would come back sooner or later.

But not yet.

They knew he had gone off to the left, but they had no way to tell where he was. He might have been at the trucks, but they had completely lost him. But the old boss man shifted around nervously, looking around and still imploring the others to pick up the pace, despite he himself doing nothing. But then, he turned and headed for the truck.

“Shit,” Greg whispered. “I’ll bet that’s where Sean is. That fat ass is going to walk right into Sean.”

Erin whispered back, “He’s unarmed. Sean can take care of him easily.”

“But he’s heading right for his bow. He’s going to get his fucking weapon, Erin.”

“What bow?”

Greg then looked and he noticed it, too. That wooden hunting bow was gone, as was the quiver.

“Holy shit…” was all Erin could say.

The fat hunter got close to the trucks before stopping and looking at where his bow was, scratching his head, and turning back to the cabin. He yelled, “Hey, is my bow in there?”

A voice from inside responded, “What?”

“My bow! Is it…”

The fat man couldn’t find his bow, but he found an arrow quickly enough. Making a slight whistling sound, an arrow, loosed from an unseen location, struck the man from behind, hitting in the back of the neck and protruding from his throat, the arrowhead, a wicked broadhead designed to bring down serious game, was sticking several inches from the man’s flesh.

“Goddamn, he’s good,” Greg muttered.

The fat man stumbled around for a while but then, from nowhere, Sean came holding that knife. He walked right up to the bleeding, gurgling man and from behind, slashed his throat open. The wound was so terrible that the arrow actually came loose and fell on the ground. Sean picked it up and vanished back into the shadows.

“My fucking god…” Erin whispered. What Sean had become since the Horton place was equal parts intriguing and terrifying.

That voice came from the house again. “What? What did you say? What about your bow?”

A young hunter, a different one than the one who had challenged the fat one before, came from the house, with empty hands but not reaching for the shotgun across his back. He looked around but didn’t see or hear anything, which made that young man quite visibly nervous.

“Mister Kibbey? Mister Kibbey you out here? Where the hell did you go? Where did…”

Erin and Greg didn’t even see what direction Sean had come from.

The young hunter turned, trying to scan the darkened driveway for the older man, but when he turned to his right, he found himself staring into the blood-painted face of Sean Valencourt. In the last miserable seconds of that young man’s life, he thought that perhaps it was the devil.

It wasn’t, but close enough. Sean swung that knife, cutting right across the mouth, penetrating so deeply that Sean, but mercifully neither Erin nor Greg, could see that the doomed man’s mouth was twice the size it had been. Sean swung again against his neck. Blood spurted all over Sean’s shirt but he didn’t even flinch. The hunter died in a heap at Sean’s feet, his last vision being of the man, no older than his dead self, that had killed him.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Greg said. “I can’t believe that this is the guy who stopped to help you out with fucking car troubles.”

Erin said nothing, but her breath stopped in her throat as she saw Sean casually walk inside the cabin.
Last edited by Ponyboy314 on Thu Feb 14, 2013 7:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"If you have a milkshake, and I have a milkshake, and there's a straw, there it is, that's a straw...and my straw reaches...acrosssssssss the room, and begins to drink your milkshake. I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE! SLURRRP! I DRINK IT UP!

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Ponyboy314 » Thu Feb 14, 2013 7:06 pm

“What the fuck is he doing?” Erin wondered aloud, the tension showing clearly in both her voice and movements.

“Going to get the last one,” Greg casually replied. “I think that the guy in there’s about to shit himself pretty fucking bad.”

But the seconds seemed like decades as no sound came from the cabin. No screams of pain or surprise, no gunshots, no threats, no nothing. Twenty seconds came and went but the cabin might as well have been empty. But of course, as Greg had expected, the remaining young hunter showed himself.

Much like an old western B-movie, the young hunter flew face-first out the window, which shattered fully, spraying the porch with shards of glass. He landed on the porch with a heavy thud and a series of pained grunts. He tried to get up, but the impact had taken the wind out of him. And his situation was not helped by Sean, who walked without hurrying through the front door and took the hunter by the back of his neck, picking him up from the ground, and throwing him into the front yard like a fully-loaded trash bag.

“Well fuck me,” Greg blurted out. “That’s some serious shit there.”

The hunter tried to crawl, but a heavy foot on the small of his back stopped those plans. Erin and Greg could see that he didn’t have that rifle across his back anymore.

Sean looked almost like the label on a bottle of Captain Morgan.

“Erin? Greg? Come on out. He’s the last one. No one else here. I think you should meet our new buddy here.” He looked down at the terrified hunter and said, “And you, Hillbilly Jim, I have a couple of friends you should get acquainted with. You’re going to love them. If things had worked out for you, you would have met them anyway, looking through the scope on that rifle that didn’t do you a shit load of good in there. You want to see who you wanted to kill? Do you? Turn your ass over, fuck bag. And you keep those hands still or I’ll cut them off. Just today I’ve done worse than that to someone else.”

He took his foot off the terrified hunter, who slowly turned over and looked up, right into the face of the one that he, like every other hunter in this tragic comedy, wanted to bag.

“Are you…you’re him, aren’t you? You’re Sean Valencourt. You’re the one who killed Robert and Mister Chappel, and Tom Duffy, and Albert Brill…”

“You’re four shy of the count, shit face. What I did to them isn’t much compared to two other little fucks just like you just a couple of hours ago. And you probably noticed that that other punk and your fat friend aren't doing a whole lot to help you, right?” Erin and Greg reached him at that moment, looking down at the scared face of someone who had hoped to kill them until very recently.

He blurted, “Please, Valencourt. Please don’t kill me…please…”

Sean spat in the hunter’s face. “Quit your blubbering, mister. Knock it the fuck off. I know you’d have given anything to be the one up here, with me down there. Have a little fucking dignity. You mentioned your dead buddies Albert and Tom…they had those fucking dead freaks on leashes, almost on top of two friends of ours just yesterday. Jane…that was her name, asshole. She had a name. She was shot to pieces and screaming in pain, and then she had those fucking things almost on her. She flipped your friends the bird and got herself and her boyfriend, that’s Travis to us, out of there and down into the gorge. They’re dead, but you never really got them. One last, great act of defiance. Almost worthy of song. That’s dignity, you piece of shit. That was balls. You’re too fucking dumb to realize that your stupid ass friends deserved what they got. You’re brain is so goddamned poisoned that you don’t even know that you deserve to be down there. You all do. So quit with the fucking whimpering you sack of rat sperm. You don’t have a lot of time left on earth. You’d better use it to make peace with all the bad shit you’ve done.”

Erin walked up unexpectedly and kicked the young man across the face, hard enough to knock one tooth out and several others loose. “Jane was my friend motherfucker. She was my friend. So was Travis, Dean, Rosalind…”

Greg gently nudged her aside and stood over the soon-to-be dead hunter. He looked down at his face, a face that seemed ready to beg for mercy that wasn’t coming. He was terrified, and Greg believed that in that moment, that piece of shit didn’t have the right to be.

He began stomping on the hunter’s face. He stomped over and over again, crushing the young man’s nose, breaking the teeth he still had, and bloodying the soles of his own shoes.

Greg said, “You’re going to die, asshole. And I’m going to watch you die. I’m going to watch you die for all the shit you and your fucking town have done to us.”

Sean tapped Greg in the arm. Greg looked down and saw that Sean was handing him the Bowie knife. “Greg, I’ll do you one better.” Greg tried to say something, but Sean cut him off. “Take the knife, Greg. We’re not done with Beauregard, yet. There’s still a bit we need to do. But this fuck here needs to go. I want you to punch his ticket.”

Greg was hesitant. In fact, he wanted to be a few feet away watching Sean do the deed, but Sean wouldn’t stop tapping his arm with that knife.

“Sean, I…”

“Yes you can. And you have to. You might have more to do before we leave. We need to know that you can do it. This is what it’s all about. Send him on his way.”

Greg handed a stunned Erin his rifle and took the knife with shaking hands. He knelt down by the young man whose face he just stomped into obliteration. Greg took one last look up at Sean’s face.

“However you think you can do it, Greg. This is for Jane and Travis.”

As Greg raised the knife, he could hear through a ruined and blood-filled mouth the young hunter say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the bad things I’ve done. I…I apologize.”

Greg simply said, “I accept,” before bringing that knife down, right into the hunter’s heart.
Last edited by Ponyboy314 on Thu Feb 14, 2013 8:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"If you have a milkshake, and I have a milkshake, and there's a straw, there it is, that's a straw...and my straw reaches...acrosssssssss the room, and begins to drink your milkshake. I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE! SLURRRP! I DRINK IT UP!

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Scratch » Thu Feb 14, 2013 7:09 pm

Ponyboy,

I have read most of your stories on this site and they are all great, but you have really knocked it out of the park with this one! I am grateful the story and for your frequent updates. I find myself checking this story hourly for updates!!!

How are they going to get to the pit? I think they were blindfolded coming and going from there....


This really has me on the edge of my seat and biting my fingernails. Thanks!

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Re: Beauregard

Post by goofygurl » Thu Feb 14, 2013 7:42 pm

Moar please!! I spend more time refreshing this page than I do working like I should be. :lol:

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Re: Beauregard

Post by Laager » Thu Feb 14, 2013 7:42 pm

My Grandfather used to tell me when I was younger

"Son, when you knock on the devil's door, be careful because he will always answer."

I'm thinking that Sean knocked...........



I'm just going to throw this out there........I can only sit at the computer for so long (refreshing) before I have to get up to do something (feed the dog, who I might add is eyeballing me like a starving man looking at a steak).......
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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