The cold harsh winds of the winter whistled through the ranch. Nothing moved, the grounds lay bare the only sign of life was an illuminated window on the far side of the silent ranch. The light came from a small wooden shack; the shack appeared newer than the rest of the weather worn buildings, it also looked better cared for than the other buildings. Next to the shack was a small garden and in it were gravestones. Two were lined side by side, but another sat lonely in the corner of the garden. The lonely gravestone was simple it was made from wood unlike the other two that had been carefully crafted out of stone. Then a creak echoed around the garden and the shack, it was no louder than a whisper but in a place where nothing made a single noise it seemed loud. The door of the shack rolled open, a small elderly man appeared holding a tattered leather bag.
Charlie Annonsbild
Just Charlie
English: Headstone for mass murderer Charlie Lawso...He slung it over his shoulder, he took a step outside, and he shivered as a gust of chilling wind passed over him. He looked back into the shack, deciding whether to put a coat on. He briskly emerged from the shack once more still with no coat or gloves or any added clothing but a gun. He took the gun and carefully wrapped it in a piece of cloth he had taken from his trouser pocket. He then lowered his wrinkled hand which clutched the gun back into his pocket. He limped badly stopping and wincing in pain. He soldiered on still clutching the gun in his pocket. He reached the entrance to the garden; he limped through the battered wooden gate, as he passed it let out a loud screech. The elderly man quickly scanned...