The grey fog has troubled The Peacekeeper ever since it first appeared a few days back. He had experienced curses enough times to know that this was no natural fog – it was supernatural in nature. The fog was a great concern that needed to be dealt with, sooner rather than later.

The fog lowered visibility, but this wasn’t much of an issue for The Peacekeeper. He was more concerned about the fog reaching Havenwood. The damage that this fog can unleash on the town would be unthinkable. Mother and children suffocating. Fathers and son turned mad. The Peacekeeper was not certain of what the fog will do. It will, The Peacekeeper was sure of this, bring great evil to the town for this fog was created through evil. To remove the fog, he’d have to kill the one who cast this godforsaken monstrosity, this cursed abomination of a fog.

His investigations lead The Peacekeeper to the Huckleberry farm. There he found a long forgotten form of ancient writing and diagrams in blood on the barn walls. In the middle of the barn, a pile of dismembered body-parts were neatly placed. Perhaps as a sacrificial offering, The Peacekeeper surmised. He tried to keep his lunch down as he looked through the dismembered bodies, noticing there was only four heads instead of five. The Huckleberry couple worked on the farm with their three children. The head belonging to one of the three children was missing. Jonas Huckleberry was never right in the head, the madam at the brothel always complained about how he used to treat them girls that worked there.

Tracking Jonas wasn’t a hard task. Jonas didn’t make an effort in covering his tracks. Snowfall was not heavy which made it easy for The Peacekeeper to spot the footprints that Jonas had left behind in the ground. Weather was on his side for the moment. The Peacekeeper followed those tracks from the farm and it led him north into the snow-capped hills, but he would have to hurry before the falling snow filled up the trail of footprints.

The Great North was inhospitable to most. There was little game to hunt. No edible plant life could survive the savage weather. The Great North was intent on killing anything that stepped foot there. As The Peacekeeper finally reached the top of one of the three snow covered hills, he made out a figure in the distance. The Peacekeeper ducked low and paced himself, eager not to lose his prey. He was sure it was Jonas, no others would venture this far.

Jonas was caught unaware. Seeing a figure in the distance, he increased his speed as the snow thickened. He didn’t know if the figure belonged to a friend or a foe, and he didn’t care to wait and find out. He hastened, stumbling as each step became more tiring.

The Peacekeeper drew his pistol and took quick aims, letting loose short bursts of fire. If it wasn’t Jonas he was shooting at, The Peacekeeper thought to himself, then nobody would know because they were the only two living things out there and the snow will cover up any evidence of his mistake.

It seemed as though all The Peacekeeper’s shots had missed, he was never a great marksman and shooting while jogging made it that much harder. The peacekeeper stood and listened. With six bullets, there was bound to be one lucky enough to hit the target. The Peacekeeper was a gambler and he liked his odds.

A scream shook the snow in the trees. The Peacekeeper quickened his pace and closed in on the scream. Upon reaching his intended prey, The Peacekeeper saw that it was Jonas. The boy was on his side splayed in the snow, blood spewing from his right leg and slowly turning the snow red.

“Peacekeeper.” Jonas grinned, “I should have figured you would come for me.”

The Peacekeeper looked at Jonas, not uttering a single word, mist came out his nose as he breathed. Fishing around in his trouser pockets, he fished out some bullets and started to reload his pistol.

“Do you take pleasure in killing me?” Jonas used his hands to try and stop the bleeding in his leg. “We are the same, ain’t we?”

The Peacekeeper cocked his pistol and replied, “How so?”

Jonas wriggled in the snow and proped himself up on his elbows. “We both kill for a purpose.”

“Purpose? Nobody deserves to die for any purpose. No matter how great your purpose is.” Squinting at Jonas, The Peacekeeper aimed his gun.

“My family died a good death. They died so that I–” Bang!

“Purpose? What a bunch of crock.” The Peacekeeper muttered to himself as he holstered his pistol and started his long trek home to Havenwood.

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