Vengeance; A Johnny Ringo story. All rights to the characters and backgrounds of this story belong to its creators. Ringo's deputy and friend Cully is dead. And Ringo is our for revenge. Rated T for violence.

Ringo did not know how far into Mexico he had ridded it had been at least two weeks. But the trail of the two men was still fresh. He had not slept much since he crossed the Rio Grande. The sight of Cully's pale face was in his dreams. And the further he rode the madder he got.

The adobe village looked like so many in this part of the country. But Ringo held back. He would wait until nightfall before he moved.

"Enjoy this day, you bastards." He said to himself. "This is your last!"

As nighttime came, a few of the locals saw a gringo ride into town. He did not look around much. To some of the locals he looked like he was ill, unshaven very tired looking. But they did not realize that death itself had just ridden in to town.

Ringo tied his horse up and started toward the cantina. He figured that is where they would be. As he walked up to the door. He looked cautiously into the cantina. He did not see them to begin with. There were a few people in there. None of the people in there looked like the two men. Then a man walked out of a side room, and strode to the bar.

Ringo did not see a man. He saw Cully bleeding to death, the doc trying to save him. But it was too late.

A fine haze of red came over Ringo's eyes as he walked into the cantina. He strode to the man at the bar. The man did not even realize who Ringo was until iron-hard fist slammed into the man's face. Ringo took the man's head and drove it into the bar, the locals quickly scattered. The man tried to pull his gun but Ringo kicked the gun from his hand. "Where is he!" he hissed the man crawled away from Ringo in abject terror.

"Where is he!" as he drove the hell of his boot into the man's face.

The man's face was now a bloody mess. "Please, no more!" he begged. Ringo drove his fist into the man's belly. "Last time asking." Ringo said pulling his gun and shoving it into the man's face.

"He's out back." The man gestured "Juan's out back."

At that point, Juan came to the front of the cantina; he stopped dead when he saw his partner lying on the floor. He stared at Ringo, who was looking back at him with death on his face. "Was it worth it?" Ringo asked. The man did not reply. He just tried for it. Ringo's gun came out of its holster faster then it ever had before. His first shot took the man in the chest, and then he fired again and again until his gun was empty. Yet he continued cocking the gun and squeezing the trigger. Over and over, the hatred was still flowing through him. The bar tender came around and took hold of Ringo's hand "Enough sir." The man whispered. Ringo came back to the real world. The other man had died on the floor. The sheriff came running in. He looked at Ringo, and the men that lay on the floor. "Who were they Mister?"

Ringo just starred into space. "They robbed a bank and killed my deputy, and my friend." He said flatly. Ringo handed the sheriff his gun. He took it considered then handed it back. "No." he said "You are free to go."

Ringo just nodded. The men were buried in boot hill the next day. And Ringo rode back for home. But he was never the same again. The best part of him died with Cully.

The end