This story is based on the Masked Marvel, published by Youthful Magazines; created by Graham Ingels<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the town of Crucible Rock 1876, townies watched as Blindside Avenue\u2019s most popular den of depravity burned. Most folks believed Nasty Mikes was a sight more than a saloon and dance hall, it was a safe harbor for deviancy of every kind, a temple for miscreants, and ne\u2019er-do-wells. Some wayward cowpoke could embrace their primal desires. It was bad news and good people stayed away. Even as it burned, no bucket brigade came to put out the blaze. No good people risked the flames to help the hostesses, card dealers, gunslingers, and saddle-tramps to safety. No, the good people of Crucible Rock just stood by and watched the flames wipe away the moral blemish.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBurn! Burn! Burn!\u201d cackled Reverend Black. He stood silhouetted against the raging inferno. He preached scripture loudly to the gathered crowd. \u201c\u2026Into the eternal fire which has been prepared for the devil and his angels!\u201d He punctuated every word by slamming the Good Book into the palm of his hand. The structure behind him cracked and crumbled as part of the roof caved in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Chet Fairchild was in the saloon that night to see his old friend. It was a year since Luke stopped running with the Buzzard Hill gang. The fire seemed to come from nowhere and then everywhere at once. He peered around in the smoke, ducking down to find fresher air. He saw his friend fall behind the bar under a section of crumbling ceiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Luke Ashton, was pinned by still burning timbers; his legs were mashed and pressed in place. He saw Sarah Talbot, helping the newest hostess, Bonnie Benton, towards the door, when part of the upstairs walk caved in. Burning shards of wood knocked them both down. \u201cNo.\u201d Luke couldn\u2019t tell how badly they were been hurt. Once upon a time, he wouldn\u2019t care, but nowadays things were different. He was different. He looked down at the burning pile that covered his legs; they didn\u2019t seem to hurt him anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Chet smashed a stool on the ground and used one of the legs to pry at the timber holding Luke Down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cChet, is that you?\u201d Luke looked up at his soot and sweat caked benefactor, barely recognizing his old friend. \u201cNo, don\u2019t worry about me\u2026mah legs is already burned plum through. Only reason I\u2019m not screaming is that I can\u2019t feel them at all. Don\u2019t waste time on me. Go save those two over yonder…there\u2019s still hope for them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Chet knew if he left for even a second, he wouldn\u2019t see Luke alive again. His jaws flexed as he clenched his teeth. Luke was right. He didn\u2019t have time to waste.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t wait no more.\u201d Luke went on, his voice resolute. \u201cYou saved me once a long time ago, from a bad life, now go save them.\u201d It was not a request. His once strong hands reached out and squeezed Chet\u2019s forearm reassuringly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Chet pulled himself away from his fallen friend and moved across the hellscape of black smoke, moaning timber, and melting fixtures. Sarah and Bonnie were overcome by the hot, filthy air; both were barely conscious. He helped them to their feet and guided them towards the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Coughing, with her eyes clenched shut, young Bonnie choked out the words \u201c\u2026saw Reverend Black with a big can of Kerosene\u2026sneaking around back…splashing it everywhere.\u201d Her coughing worsened. \u201cHe didn\u2019t see me\u2026didn\u2019t know I seen him neither\u2026\u201d With Sarah\u2019s help, Bonnie escaped out through the swinging doors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Chet turned back towards his friend, just as half the ceiling caved in, swallowing Luke up in a blazing pile of ruin. Just like that his friend was gone. He recoiled toward the door. From his travel pack; he withdrew a mask, the grinning skull of death and portent itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLeviticus 24:17 \u2018If a man takes the life of any human being, he shall surely be put to death.\u201d Reverend Black whirled in a full circle to exaggerate the fury when he, at last, slammed the scripture into his palm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A scream from one of the wrath-wild townies alerted Reverend Black to something happening behind him. He turned and faced the burning structure. From inside a figure stepped out through the bat-wing doors. The Reverend fell silent for the first time since it all began.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSilas Black\u2026Good Reverend!\u201d Came the accusatory tones from the Skull faced avenger, a gun in his gloved hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cStay Back Devil!\u201d cried the Reverend, \u201cBurn with the rest of your kind!\u201d Silas Black backed into the street as he spoke. His eyes were wide with fear and rage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t think you have any idea what KIND they were,\u201d rasped the herald of portent, \u201cYou have done murder today. You brag to the people of Crucible Rock, crowing about biblical justice, while simultaneously putting innocent people to the torch!\u201d He stepped forward in pace with the reverend\u2019s retreat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s true!\u201d cried Bonnie, \u201cI saw him spread the kerosene, by the time I got back inside it was too late. He done already lit it up!\u201d She stumbled forward, finger outstretched, but was overcome by the filth in her lungs, falling to her knees gasping for breath. \u201cMurderer!\u201d she coughed out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The masked stranger turned his attention to the crowd. \u201cI knew the people in the Saloon, and so did you. They were your neighbors, fathers, sons, sisters, and cousins. On a different night, maybe even you. They were not lost on a hell-bent road…in fact, some were coming back by that self-same trail. That\u2019s the damnable thing about roads, they always travel in two directions.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The crowd began to shift their accusing looks, one person at a time, to the Reverend, who cringed from the cutting accusations and judgmental gazes. He pressed himself against the wall of the hardware store across the street, and would have walked through it if he could. Two good townsfolk took the Reverend by the arms. Their faces were frozen in a state of horror and disbelief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo!\u201d Cried Silas Black. \u201cNot me!\u201d They pulled him solemnly away towards the jailhouse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Justice was done; a murderer would face prosecution, and Luke Ashton, a bad man who found his way home again, was dead. The grim faced stranger whistled for his faithful, steed. Whirlwind galloped to his side. Swinging into the saddle the masked avenger rode away, never to return to Crucible Rock again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Today Crucible Rock, Arizona is a ghost town. The gold didn\u2019t dry up, nor was it done in by famine nor drought nor disease. The town was abandoned out of pure shame…plain and simple.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" This story is based on the Masked Marvel, published by Youthful Magazines; created by Graham Ingels In the town of Crucible Rock 1876, townies watched as Blindside Avenue\u2019s most popular den of depravity burned. 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