The Black Coffin (Land of Fright Book 73) by Jack O'Donnell

Author:Jack O'Donnell [O'Donnell, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: weird fantasy, Horror and suspense short stories, horror, western, metaphysical, Magic
Publisher: ODONNELL BOOKS
Published: 2020-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

“I heard you got yourselves a creepy coffin right in the middle of the street in this town,” the visitor said as he moseyed up to the bar in the saloon. He was dressed in a two-piece suit with a black bow tie and a white vest. A gold ring glistened on one of his fingers. The newcomer was trying to present an image of high esteem with his polished appearance, but his rough use of language belied his standing, giving off the impression of a coarse man of newly acquired wealth. He glanced over his shoulder, looking towards the street, then glanced back to Wayne and Buddy who were standing at the bar sipping whiskey. “But I thought it was just some tall talk. Why don’t somebody just move it?”

Buddy shrugged. “Part of the town’s charm.” The tone of his voice was filled with a sad melancholy.

“Kinda eerie, ain’t it?” the newcomer asked. “Anybody know who it’s for?”

Wayne hesitated for a brief moment as he cast a furtive glance at Buddy, then just gave a slight shrug. “Death just comes,” he said, his words an admission of defeat that all the others present in the saloon understood. “Ain’t no rhyme or reason for it sometimes. It just comes. Can’t fight it. Can’t trick it. Can’t plan for it. Can’t plan against it. It just comes.”

The visitor glanced outside at the dark box sitting in the middle of the dusty street, part of the black coffin visible under the bottom of the saloon’s swinging doors.

Buddy scratched at his grizzled beard, then looked back to the newcomer and stared at him, as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. His droopy eyes widened just a touch. “Say, ‘bout how tall are you?”

“Six foot,” the visitor said.

“Exactly?”

The visitor frowned at Buddy. “What?”

“I mean, is that exactly how tall you are?” Buddy asked. “No inches, half inches, quarter inches?”

“I guess about six feet and one inch, really. If you needin’ me to be so exact and all. That’s what my tailor told me at my last fitting last month. Don’t suppose I’ve grown much since then, right?” The visitor grinned.

Buddy broke out into a big smile of his own, straightening up from his slouched position over the bar. He slapped Wayne on the back. “You hear that, Wayne? Six feet and one beautiful inch.” Buddy looked to the newcomer and sidled a step closer to him. “Welcome to town, big fella,” Buddy said with a drunken grin. He glanced around the saloon with his bloodshot eyes, beaming the other occupants a sloppy smile. “Drinks are on me today, boys!”

A hootin’ and a hollerin’ rose up in the saloon and the whiskey flowed heavily in fountains of shimmering liquid gold.

“You fellas always so friendly to newcomers?” the visitor asked, moving his gaze from Buddy to Wayne.

“Didn’t use to be.” Buddy downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp and set the glass down on the bar, motioning to the bartender for a refill.

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