The Hateful Eight: El Paso

This post is part of the series Hateful Eight

Other posts in this series:

  1. The Hateful Eight: Big Iron
  2. The Hateful Eight: El Paso (Current)
  3. The Hateful Eight: Cool Water

A new team has emerged…eight strangers, brought together under a single purpose – a purpose known only to them. Their stories are as varied as their methods. Those that don’t know them won’t like them, and those that do sometimes won’t know how to take them. They aren’t wrong, just different, but their pride won’t let them do things to make you think they are right. These are their tales…some of them…

Felina. Memorizing, enchanting, hypnotic was her dancing. The music changed as she danced, or was her dance synonymous with the music itself – I could never tell.

Every night I would come to this back alley dive of a saloon, Rosa’s Cantina, in El Paso. Every night I would drink her into my dreams. Pitch black where the eyes of Felina, like a wicked and evil witch she had cast her spell upon me. I loved none other than her, but she did not share this love for me.

Then one night a drifter blew in from nowhere in particular. His hair was as wild as he was, but Felina took interest. He was sharing a drink with Felina, my Felina…the girl that I loved.

In anger I challenged his claim to the maiden. His hand went for his pistol, but the challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat.

The drifter lay dead on the floor.

For a moment I stood in silence, in shock by the foul evil deed that I had just done. Thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there, the only thing I could do, was run.

Out through the back door of Rosa’s I ran. Around the bend I found a group of horses, I snagged the fastest looking stud and kicked his side as I climbed into the saddle. I left El Paso in a cloud of dust. There was nothing for me in El Paso anymore, my life there was worthless. There was nothing left in my life, everything was now gone.

– – – – – – – –

I spent my time in the badlands, roaming, no different than the drifter that I’d shot back in El Paso. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the young maiden, but my love for her was stronger than my fear of death.

Alone in the dark I rode. Tomorrow was just like today, waiting for a bullet to find me, staving off the pain in my heart.

At last, here I am again, on a hill overlooking El Paso. Below, I see Rosa’s Cantina. My love is too strong and it urges me onward, down the hill to Felina I rode.

Off to my right, I see the silhouette of five mounted cowboys, to my left a dozen or more. Their shouts rang out as loud as the shots from their rifles.

I can’t let them catch me, not this close to my love.

The back door of Rosa’s; I made it.

Something is wrong. There is a deep burning pain in my side. I urged the horse on, but it’s getting difficult to stay in the saddle.

I fall to the ground, but my love for Felina pushes me onward and I rise where I’ve fallen. I cannot stop to rest, I must reach the door.

The white puff of smoke from the rifle. Another bullet rips through my chest.

From out of nowhere, Felina has found me.

She kisses my cheek as she kneels by my side.

Cradled by two loving arms that I’ll die for…one little kiss, then…

Felina, good-bye.

The Hateful Eight are a Brettonian team inspired by classic western songs. Each player embodies the song they are named after, their backstory is the same as their namesake song.


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