Ryan's Psalm
Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4 · Chapter 5 · Chapter 6 ·
Chapter 7 · Chapter 8 · Chapter 9 · Chapter 10 · Chapter 11 · Chapter 12 · Chapter 13 · Chapter 14 · Chapter 15 · Chapter 16 ·
Chapter 17 · Chapter 18 · Chapter 19 · Chapter 20 · Chapter 21 · Chapter 22 · Chapter 23 · Chapter24 · Chapter25 · Chapter 26 ·
Chapter 27 · Chapter 28 ·


Then the Spirits brought forth the Kings to a place which is named Armageddon in Hebrew
and the Place of Multitudes in English.
Revelation 16;16 Translation by Donegal Ryan.

January 15, 1871

Dio, Walsh, the ten Walapai warriors and I set off for the town underneath the strange stone pillar shortly after daybreak. The town was about four miles from where we had camped. The closer we approached, we saw that the town was actually quite small, it appeared larger because Ryan's encampment surrounded the town, dwarfing it completely. Tents, wagons and makeshift corrals by the dozens spread across the plains below the tall thin rock. There were about two hundred wagons and tents as opposed to the twenty or so buildings comprising the town. Ryan's troupe had even camped on the fields of the farmers and ranchers near the town.

Although the streets of the town seemed deserted, a constant activity hummed through the tent city; people taking care of animals, cooking or making some kind of potion and putting it into bottles.

We circled the outskirts of the tent city and entered Crowded Point from the opposite side of the town than we had originally started toward. Ryan's main tent lay before us in the distance. This was not a big top but merely a second hand medicine show tent Ryan had acquired from somewhere. Even though the streets of the town were deserted, the tent city was patrolled by a security force of some type. spotting us, a man blew on a whistle.

Flaps of a couple tents lined along the main street flipped open and some people leapt out to greet us.

One of these was at tall, sandy haired man who handsprung and flipped onto his feet, jumped into the air and landed on one of the Walapai warriors. His arms and legs encircled the waist and upper torso of the warrior, not once but twice and then a third time.

The man's arms and legs stretched and grew thinner wrapping about the warrior with crushing force. Bones snapped like crackling kindling and the warrior's innards erupted from his mouth and nose in a dark red geyser. Great dark welts surrounded his body.

"That's one sinner gone to Hell" laughed the Elastic man as he rolled off the warrior's limp and formless body as it fell. Rolling onto to his feet he leapt again, wrapping about another victim. The Elastic Man screeched when Dio's poisonous boomerang sliced off his left ear. Mr Taffy was too busy holding onto the bleeding hole on his head to gloat about this victim.

Seconds after the first victim to the Elastic man died, another Walapai died a gory death. He fell under the fangs and teeth of a lion-girl. At least, that is how she appeared to me, having the form of a young lady but covered all over with coarse brown hair, including a stiff mane. Her teeth were fangs and her nails were black claws.

The lion girl had emerged from a tent and flung herself on a Walapai directly in front of her, opening his bowels with her claws and tearing his throat with her fangs. Flinging back her head, she showered the street with blood and foam. A triumphant roar resounded down the streets and echoed through the tent city.

Grinning, she licked her dripping muzzle, "Damn these heathens taste good!" Her laughter abruptly changed into howls of pain as two Walapai shot her with arrows. One pierced her wrist, another buried itself in her side.

An angry roar ripped from her throat as the animal took total control of her consciousness. Bounding like a lion on the pounce she slammed into one of the Walapai, snapping through his throat before succumbing to another arrow shot into her back. The Walapai's adam's apple trailed from her bloody maw like fresh sausages.

The Elastic man stood twitching and a bit unsteady but otherwise unaffected by either the poison or ear loss.

Walsh moved towards him and Elastic Man grinned, motioning him forwards with his hands.

"Come on demon, time to return to the pit!". Bounding like a jack rabbit Elastic Man landed on Walsh. He quickly wrapped his arms and legs around Walsh's shoulders and waist and squeezed. To his dismay, Elastic Man discovered he could not crush Walsh and that like Bre'r Rabbit he found hisself stucks fas' to de Tarman

Flinching at Elastic Man's screams, Walsh grabbed his wrists in one hand and his ankles in the other and slowly peeled the Elastic Man off of his sticky flesh. The Elastic Man screeched as bits and pieces of his skin adhered to Walsh's body.

His shrieks became even louder when Walsh raised his arms over his head and then slowly lowered them to his sides in an arc stretching Elastic Man like pulled taffy. The Elastic Man screams became high pitched and nearly inaudible as he grew thinner and longer. As with taffy there was a limit to his ductility and having reached the diameter of one inch and the length of fifteen feet, the of Elastic Man parted with a soft, squelching pop. Gore gushed from the whipping ends reminding me of runaway firehoses.

Walsh stepped over the writhing, gouting ends without a comment and moved on down the street hurrying to aid Dio and the four remaining Walapai.

Dio and four of the Walapai were fighting against a Monster. This was an orange and black lizard the size of a ox. Rather flat and broad, a third of its body was taken up by a wide tail. The giant Gila Monster had knives for teeth and razors for claws. Although slow, it was deceptively slow, for it could spin and attack with lightening speed, knocking over someone with its tail and slashing at them with its fangs or claws.

Yet none of the three dead Walapai lying scattered before it had died in that manner. This Monster also spit up a vile black mucus which had lethal capabilities. The first Walapai had been spat upon the face, the second on the chest and the third on the back, yet they all had screamed, frantically clawed at the vile goo for a few moments and then stiffened and died, still standing, to tumble stiff and prone in the dust.

The Monster's skin was impervious to arrow, lance and bullet as Dio and the four Walapai had discovered. Walsh moved to deal with him.

Urging Brimstone into a canter, I rode past this particular conflict, seeking to confront Ryan.

The street was blocked by two dusky men wearing dark black clothing. They did not appear to have guns so I slowly urged Brimstone forwards.

A horrendous cry from behind and Brimstone veered around in that direction, responding to my unconscious command.

Walsh had stuffed his thick black left arm into the path of the Gila Monster's mouth. The Monster had clamped tight as they have been known to, it is said one has to use a crowbar to get a small Gila's jaws apart once they clamp onto their prey. The Monster's jaws were stuck in the tarry substance of Walsh. With an amazing effort Walsh had pulled the Gila's head against his chest and was using his right forearm to exert downward pressure on the Gila 'S neck, pushing on it until it snapped.

However the vile poison had slipped into Walsh's system lancing his few remaining nerves with a liquid fire. Walsh let loose a loud, hoarse yell, yet he did not move his arms, he kept pushing on the Gila Monster's head, although the pain must have been monumental, like having salt poured across a flayed back.

The cry that Walsh gave out was nothing like the one which ripped out of his throat a few seconds later. It would have made Torquemada cringe.

Some old white man, wearing nothing but breechclout and sandals had run up behind Walsh and thrust his two hands deep into Walsh's back. Walsh's right arm flung backwards into the air in a convulsive shocked movement. Whatever the old man did, it must have been agonizing. Walsh reached behind him, grabbing at the old man but Walsh's hand seemed to loose all strength and shape as it touched the old man..

Walsh's entire body convulsed, shivered and sagged.

One of the Walapai jumped on the old man's back. He rebounded with a burst of steam and a horrendous cry. Looking closer, I saw that the old man was slightly blurry as if waves of heat radiated out from his body. I knew of no quick way to stop him and sent a mental message to Dio not to risk it but to join me a few yards up the street. He came loping after me.

Walsh was soon melted enough for the Gila to escape his grasp. The Gila turned around and attacked the Walapai. The old man jerked his hands out of Walsh's back. Black smoke billowed off of the old man's hands as the tar was burned away. The Black Bishop fell to the dirt in a limp, runny clump, a slagheap with a rudimentary head, arms and legs.

As the Gila Monster attacked the Walapai, the old man walked up behind two of them and balled his fists. He punched outwards, his fists slid into the backs and out through the chests of the Walapai with a great hiss of pink steam and a stench reminiscent of burnt pork. The Walapai were stunned seeing a fist emerge from their chests. They gazed down at the bloodless, seared fist sized hole tunneled through their bodies.

As they bent down and gazed through the wide opening in their bodies, the old man squatted down to the level of the holes and stood there smiling and waving at them. As he waved the two Walapai tumbled forward in half somersaults to the ground.

Although not normally a sadistic man, Tate had recognized the Walapai and took revenge for two of his friends killed years before by the Walapai.

The Gila Monster made short work of the other two Walapai.

Dio met up with me and we slowly moved towards the two men who blocked the street. Their faces were set in immobile masks and I could see the similarities in their faces, they were twins.

White grins split their dark visages as we neared. Moving in concert, they extended their arms, palms inward. Each man scissored his arms, slapping their palms together in a sliding fashion as if brushing dirt from them. A veritable fireworks display sparked up from their rubbing hands.

The one on the left bent down and picked up a fist sized rock which he squeezed in one hand. Pebbles and dust filtered through his fingers as he crushed the rock.

Not wanting to waste time on this crap, I gave my hands the fire command and they squeezed off the six shooters. My twelve bullets were aimed at the Flint Boy's faces. Chips and sparks flew but to little avail, until the tenth bullet clipped the left one's eyelid.

As I commenced firing, Dio followed my example. He quickly emptied his revolvers at their knees and then pumped shotgun blasts into their chests. The shotgun pellets blasted large chards of material away from the Flint Boys but they still moved towards us.

Dio aimed his shots in the same spots, hoping that eventually the hard skin might have a softer layer below it. His final shotgun blast succeeded in opening up a small dime sized hole in the right one's side. Dio blew a poison dart into the small spot.

The Flint Boys were down, if not for good then for the time being.

"Damn you! Can't any of you do anything right? I have so much crap to do and so little time to do it in" shouted a familiar voice.

My tattered eyelids blinked for I did not believe what I saw.

Donegal Ryan came angrily striding down the street. He was dressed in a white top hat, white frock coat and trousers and a white shirt. His beard and hair were well groomed. I would have shaken my head in disbelief had I been able.

Ryan gestured. A shot rang out and I saw Walsh, who had been solidifying, suddenly quiver and fall inert.

A second shot hit Dio in the thigh, flipping him in a somersault of sand and blood.

Spinning Brimstone around I hurried for the safety of a building. Brimstone screamed as a slug tore a furrow across his neck. Pain crazed he blocked out my psychic reins, prancing and bucking in fear and agony.

A second shot slammed into the saddle tree, clipping one of the headlock's arms. The impact also flipped me up and off the saddle tree. I hung dangling over Brimstone's side, attached to one hook of the headlock. Knowing I was a perfect target, I frantically threw out a blanket of mental energy, seeking the sniper. I found him, laying flat on the room of the general store. As I reached out to seize his mind, desperation and fear adding energy and strength to my powers, his finger squeezed the trigger.

I knew Jeff Justice Bolane at that second, I heard a loud whine and then I knew nothing, for a very long time.

End of Part One

Home · Ryan's Psalm
Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3· Chapter 4· Chapter 5· Chapter 6·
Chapter 7· Chapter 8· Chapter 9· Chapter 10 · Chapter 11 · Chapter 12 · Chapter 13· Chapter 14· Chapter 15· Chapter 16·
Chapter 17· Chapter 18· Chapter 19· Chapter 20 · Chapter 21 · Chapter 22 · Chapter 23· Chapter24· Chapter25· Chapter 26·
Chapter 27· Chapter 28· Chapter 29


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