#forbidden tex lore ig

[gohnnyjuitar]

raise hell

It was a long, hard trek back to camp. As unforgiving as the Mojave was in broad daylight, the dry chill of the night air seeped down into the bone. Jesse shifted his bandana higher up his face, taking pleasure in what little warmth it gave his near frozen nose. His horse nickered and shook its head, spooked by something in the night. With a gentle pat to her neck and soft reassurance, he caught up with the others. Most of the men looked agitated- a job gone wrong could do that to anyone- but the weather didn’t help much.

“Told you we shouldn’t’ve been out so long, Tommy.” One of them spoke up. Micah, Jesse thought.

“Heard you the first five times,” Tommy grunted, spitting tobacco into the dirt. When his horse came to a halt, so did everyone else’s. He turned and cast a hard look over the group. “I reckon it sounds like you might prefer the warm caress of a noose, fellers.”

Silence. Another grunt from Tommy.

“Didn’t think so.”

No one else spoke up during the last part of the trip to camp.

——

The warm fires were always a welcome sight. It meant cheap whiskey, rattlesnake stew and a threadbare blanket. Anything they could do to make the shivering stop.

Once the horses were tethered, the riders broke up and went about their business. Some straight to bed, others to eat and mill about. Jesse gathered up a bowl of weak stew and settled down on the ground by the fire. He was exhausted after the events of the day, too tired to lay down and sleep surely. Everything that could have gone south with that bank heist did. It was a wonder any of them lived to see another day.

“Ain’t got the money to bet, Angus.”

Jesse glanced up from the fire, taking a moment to let his eyes readjust. A few of the senior members of the gang were gathered around a makeshift table. Emmett, Hardin and Tommy’s right hand, Angus.

“So don’t bet money,” Angus pressed, smile wide and wolfish. Unsettling. “I know you got some nifty little trinkets stashed away in that lockbox o’ yours.”

“What? Those old spurs?” Emmett scoffed just before taking a swig of whiskey.

“Custom made, weren’t they? Whole way from Texas.”

Jesse paused, suddenly unable to swallow.

“Hell, fine. I’ll wager ‘em. Ain’t like they’re worth anything.”

Jesse’s eyes followed Emmett as he shoved himself up from his seat, walking idly to his tent and back. He plopped down again and the spurs hit the table with a solid noise. Silver longhorns glinted in the firelight and Jesse felt his world tilt suddenly. Where the hell did he get those.

“You wanna rephrase that, boy?” Emmett said. All eyes near them were on Jesse, then. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken, much less stood and dropped his half eaten stew. He was halfway to their table when he spoke again.

“Those spurs,” Jesse reaffirmed, jaw clenched. “Where’d you get them?”

Emmett had no right to look so bemused, so laid back. He reclined in his seat and wet his lip in one quick, smug motion. Jesse narrowed his eyes. He knew the answer- those spurs matched the set on his own boots. Only five pairs were made. Now, he was only waiting for a confirmation that this bastard knew.

“Some little farm out west of here. We raided it couple o’ years back. Think the sign said ‘King’. Why?” Emmett drawled, earning smothered laughter from the other two men. “Sound familiar, Mister King?”

The three of them broke out into mean spirited laughter and, without a second thought, Jesse swung. His clenched fist connected hard with Emmett’s jaw. In the reclined angle he was in, it sent him toppling backwards. He landed hard on his head and made no move to get back up, laughter silenced. Angus and Hardin were up and drawing their guns immediately. It was the pure rage that kept Jesse going, now; these were the men that killed his family.

Though he managed to give Angus what looked like a broken nose, two against one had Jesse thrown to the dirt in no time. He struggled and shouted angry curses at them, grunting in discomfort as the sharp heel of Hardin’s boot dug into his spine.

Their jeering was silenced by the loud clearing of a throat and, when they all looked up, Tommy Lee stood at the opening of his camp. The gang leader spared a glance at Emmett’s unmoving body, then Angus’s nose, and a wide smile broke out on his face.

“Jesse, Jesse,” he tutted, heavy boots kicking up dirt as he approached. He crouched down by the young man’s head and laughed at the scowl he got in return. “Son, you have made a grave mistake tonight.”

“Go to hell.” Jesse spat, struggling against Hardin’s hold again.

“Gotta say, I am impressed.” Tommy continued, ignoring Jesse’s sharp tone. He sucked on his front teeth thoughtfully. “Took ol’ Emmett down with one hit. Wanna tell me why?”

“Those spurs are mine,” Jesse said immediately. “They’re my family’s. You all killed them!”

The leader feigned interest, shock even. “My, my. That’s quite the accusation, son. Too bad Emmett ain’t in shape to defend himself anymore.”

Tommy rose with a heavy sigh. He took a moment to eye the young outlaw before drawing his weapon. Jesse’s eyes widened. He’d never noticed it before. That was his father’s revolver. A sickening sense of dread washed over him as he heard the click of the hammer being pulled back.

“Y’know the rules kid. An eye for an eye; you killed Emmett, I gotta kill you.” He took aim and Jesse finally quit struggling. There was no talking his way out of this one. “Real shame, kid. Was startin’ to like you.”

A condor cried in the distance, breaking the tense quiet as Jesse held eye contact with Tommy. A shot rang out and his world plummeted into darkness.

——

He woke with a desperate gasp for air only to choke on a mouthful of dirt. Everything ached, his head swam. Panic set in first. He was in the ground. Tommy shot him and he was in a shallow grave. He was alive in that shallow grave.

He wriggled about and got his hands at an angle where he could start digging. He clawed at the loose dirt, mind screaming at him for air, for him to get out. When one hand finally broke the surface, another grabbed it and pulled. Freshly packed dirt fell away as he was tugged free of his grave. Jesse coughed and retched, stomach rolling as he found himself on his hands and knees.

“Rise and shine, kid.”

An unfamiliar voice greeted him and, when he finally found his bearings, he glanced up. Bright, inhuman eyes met his, a wicked smile playing at the stranger’s lips. Anger was the first thing he could grasp. A distant rage boiled up through his chest and he lunged at the stranger with a shout. They made no move to free themselves from the grapple. Even when Jesse shoved them against the bark of an old, withered tree they still managed to look bemused by the situation.

“What did you do to me!?” Jesse snapped, voice hoarse like he’d just woken up. In a sense, he must have.

“Saw what went down,” they drawled, hands frustratingly relaxed at their sides. “I’m here to offer you something better than a second chance at life.”

Quiet tension hung between them and, though Jesse made no move to release this stranger, his grip slackened slightly. “What’s that?”

Their grin widened, revealing dagger sharp canines. “Revenge.”

Revenge. Jesse thought of Angus and Tommy, about the way his parents begged to be spared. How he and his siblings hid while their home was ransacked. How they prayed. Fresh anger coiled in his stomach but this time at something much bigger. He released the stranger, letting them dropped to their feet.

“You got a name?”

“Jackal.” Fitting, Jesse decided, given the nature of the smile staring back at him.

With a moment’s hesitation, he held out his hand. Jackal took it in kind, grip firm. “Jesse.”

Whatever this was- divine intervention or eternal damnation, things he’d stopped believing in a long time ago- he was going to take advantage of it. Tommy Lee was going to be begging for forgiveness sooner than he’d ever expect.

#oc; tex #au; demon cowboy #jackal is belong to corvyknight #we love being bitter at god huh tex #fallout #new vegas #my words #tommy lee and his gang are raiders tex's family deals with back home in texas in normal canon #forbidden tex lore ig