Villains are Made

-The Miller's House-

"Boss, they've barricaded the front and the back door. There's no way for us to get in" said one bandit.

"I don't care how many people it takes, we need to get inside that house now before the Sheriff and his goons get here" shouted the man with a scar.

The bandit, having no choice but to follow his boss's order, took five men with him to try and break through the back door.

"You two keep shooting through the front and distract them while we try to break through the back" the bandit pointed at two men.

Meanwhile…

"I don't think we can hold them much longer honey. I can hear them in the back trying to break in" said Mrs. Miller shooting back through one of the barricaded windows.

"Just hold on a little longer. I'm sure those two have made it to Sheriff Stockton's office by now" said Old Miller giving his wife an optimistic smile. Underneath that smile however, a brewing despair came over Old Miller.

'I have to do something. Once they break through that door, we're gonna be sitting ducks waiting for slaughter'

"Keep the ones in the front distracted and I'll take care of the ones in the back" said Old Miller, with a final resolution to destroy the people who were trying to break in.

Mrs. Miller's expression darkened.

"Wait no… That's too dangerous. There's at least five of them in the back. You can't take all of them" shouted Mrs. Miller.

Old Miller paused for some time before kissing his wife in the head.

"I'll be back"

Old Miller, without hesitation, went to the closet, took out a two pump shotgun, and headed straight for the back door.

Clang! Clang!

In the back, two bandits with metal pipes tried to break down an iron chain that Mr and Mrs. Miller tied to the door after Kaiden and Maddox left.

The other three stood watch for any sight of the sherifff and his deputies. Everyone knew they've made too much noise, if it wasn't for their boss's stubbornness they would have left already. Any second now and the sheriff would be here.

Clang!

After one more hit, one of the bandits finally broke through the chain.

Pant!

"Hey guys, this thing finally bro…"

Bang! Bang!

Before the bandit could finish his sentence, a kick through the door pushed the two bandits away followed by two shots.

The two bandits, filled with bullet holes, both fell to the ground.

The other three bandits seeing the commotion, quickly hid for cover.

Old Miller threw the empty shotgun away and grabbed the repeater around his shoulders.

One bandit tried to fire a shot at the old man but Old Miller was step faster putting a bullet through the bandit's head.

As soon as he did, gunshots from two different directions suddenly rang out. Old Miller anticipating a counterattack, rolled to the side before crawling back inside the house. Bullets filled his original position.

'Phew that was close. Looks like there's two more' panted Old Miller before scoping the field.

'I can't get a clear shot. Looks like it's time that I resort to my old tricks.' the old man sighed.

Inside the house, Old Miller grabbed the two pump shotgun from earlier and his hat. He placed the hat on the barrel of the shotgun and just ever so slightly peeked it through the open door.

Bang!

Just as he did, bullet holes filled the hat immediately.

'Gotcha' smirked Old Miller grabbing his repeater and firing two bullets where he heard the gunshots.

Thud!

One bandit fell to the ground.

'Didn't think I'd ever use my hat like that again. Alright one more to go'

Old Miller knew he couldn't use the same trick twice and opted for a different method.

He reloaded his repeater and fired once. What ensued was a series of three shots from the enemy.

He shot one more time. Three more shots rang out.

Old Miller knew this was his one and only chance.

As the bandit was reloading his revolver, Old Miller stepped out of the door and fired the remaining shots from his repeater.

Thud!

'That's the last of em' smirked Old Miller.

Before he could go back into the house, a series of shots rang out. Old Miller rolled to the side near the door but he was still clipped on the shoulder.

"Crap that hurt" yelled Old Miller finally making his way inside the house.

What stood outside was a man with a scar, heading straight for the back door.

'I lost my repeater'

Old Miller, losing his main weapon, immediately tried to grab the revolver in his waist. Before he could however, a metal arm reached out from outside the door yanking him by the throat.

"Finally caught you" whispered the man.

The man towered over Old Miller while raising his grip to slowly choke Old Miller out. Just before Old Miller lost consciousness, the man suddenly loosened his grip.

Cough! cough!

"You don't understand how long I've been waiting for this. I've been looking for you for years…. For decades. For the man they called Ironfoot Miles."

The man paused for what felt like a lifetime before chuckling until it turned into a full burst of laughter.

"Now I gotta hand it to you. You vanished without a trace. No one knew where you were. You even changed your name. But really… Miller is that best you could come up with?"

Old Miller, coughed, but still stood on business.

"Don't know what the fuck you're talking about"

"Oh I'm sure you don't. After all…. you're a remnant of your old self."

The man reached into the front pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a photo. A photo of a man with identical looks to the man with a scar on his face.

"Maybe this will remind you.That's my father… who you killed in cold blood right in front of his 8 year old son. Do you know what you said to me back then?"

The man slowly filled with anger tightened his grip around the neck of Old Miller.

Bang!

A sound of metal on metal collided.

The man loosened his grip and looked towards the source of the bullet.

Standing just behind the door stood Mrs. Miller, preparing to fire another bullet. Before she could, the man rolled to the side with lightning quickness before drawing his revolver firing a bullet to her side.

Thud!

Mrs. Miller fell to the ground unresponsive.

"Noooooooo" screamed Old Miller grabbing his revolver shooting at the man.

The man immediately held his metal arm up to block the bullets but one managed to slip through and hit the man on the shoulder causing him to stumble and fall to the ground.

This quick moment gave Old Miller the time to run to Mrs. Miller and check her vitals.

After a brief moment Old Miller sighed with relief.

'Thank god she's fine, the bullet only grazed her side. She passed out from the pain.'

Old Miller turned to the man with a scar.

"Fine you win. I know exactly who you are… Silas Harlan. Your old man and I go wa… I won't explain anymore. I know you came here for me. So let's get it over with. Right over there.. that's if you still have an ounce of your father's blood" pointed Old Miller at the open field.

The man looked at the worn out Old Miller. He knew this guy was dangerous but he didn't care.

"No one interfere" said Silas to his bandits.

Out on the open field, two men stood about 10 meters apart. Both men clutched their revolvers without saying a word. Old Miller broke the silence.

"Say when"

Time stood still, both men looked at each other in the eyes. 5 seconds went by then 10.

As soon as the 15th second went by, both men, without saying a word, grabbed their revolver and fired a shot.

Bang! Bang!

Both men stood still. Everyone was silent until the man with the scar went down on one knee and grabbed the side of his neck.

Old Miller stood tall before saying,

"you're just as fast as your old man".

Finally feeling his legs give out, Old Miller fell to the ground, blood all over his chest. Old Miller looked towards the back door of his house.

'Honey… I guess I won't be coming back after all.'

With one final look, Old Miller drew his last breath.

Clutching his neck, Silas gestured for one of the bandits to find gauze to stop the bleeding.

Before the bandit could move a step, sounds of multiple hooves galloping through the town could be heard by everyone present.

"That's definitely Stockton. Everyone let's go" yelled Silas.

Silas, still clutching his neck, quickly mounted his horse before looking back one last time at the open field where Old Miller took his final rest.

Hiyah!

"Let's go" shouted Silas.