Fiction Friday #133

You can blame Benjamin Solah for this one.
I visited his blog today – as I do every day – and discovered this cool little thing called Fiction Friday. Curiosity getting the best of me as it always does, I decided to give it a try. Enjoy!

“This calls for blood! The Lord calls for sacrifice!” the old, deranged preacher yelled from his makeshift pulpit. “Johnny Rengle’s death …”

Suddenly a door on the left side of the chapel burst open. The old preacher stopped mid-sentence in shock. A man stepped through the door; a tall man. A very tall man – so tall he had to stoop to clear the frame. Once inside, he stood his full seven-foot four and glared indifferently at the old man at the pulpit.

The old man recoiled in fear. Pointing at the man and with shaky voice, he announced “Him! He’s the man who killed him! He killed Johnny Rengle!” The giant stepped forward.

“Stop! Stay back!” the old preacher demanded.

Tall Man rushed forward, clearing the twenty feet between them in just two easy strides, and grabbed the preacher by the throat before he could turn to run. He lifted the old man – all buck-seventy of him – off the floor with his one mighty arm and stared into his eyes with a cold, dead stare.

Punching and kicking in attempt to free himself, the preacher only accomplished angering the giant. The hand around his neck squeezed tighter and he felt the life being choked out of him.

“Freeze!” someone yelled from behind the giant. “Carl Rengle, you drop him right now!” Tall Man turned to face Deputy Carlson, still suspending the preacher in space.

“He kil’t my boy.”

“I know, Carl. We’ve got all the evidence we need to put him away. Now drop him!”

“Jail?”

“Yes, Carl. Prison.” Deputy Carlson thumbed the hammer on his revolver, the click echoing through the chapel.

“Not good enough.”

With that, Carl Rengle lifted his other hand, crashing it down on the preacher’s head. His skull caved in and his spinal cord sheared clean in two. Carl released the preacher, his lifeless body hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Three times, the sound of thunder resounded through the chapel and with each, the pain of a thousand spears pierced Tall Man’s chest. He stumbled backwards into the pulpit, flattening it under his falling weight. Two minutes later, he breathed his last breath.

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