The Night of the Highwaymen

As the bright blue moon lays shadows upon the Earthen path, those whom have committed shall feel my wrath. My blade is long, and my eyes are sharp. From this world it is time for those to part. in the dead of night, the trees sing in the gentle wind. Along this path, I walk, this is retribution. My father, a simple farmer, the bread and meat of my family. Slain by Highwaymen, in search for his gold money. Now I seek those that have killed for not. For the pennies in their pockets, justice is what I sought. In the frigid air, a small soupy fog has lifted. And the figures of three appear, by luck, I am gifted. They see me, as I slowly wander down the path. Their voices cease, as they too wager their luck at last. My hood up, I stop my pace, and wait for them to proceed. An owl hoots, as one gets up, and takes the lead. unconcerned all three slowly walk toward me, one to the left, one to the right, and one in front, I see... The front one speaks, seemingly innocent enough. "Good night tonight, where are you coming from to wander such a path?" Smiling under my hood in reply, I wonder where this might go. "I am but a simple merchant, moving on to the town, but I am in haste, I need to get there now!" All three laughed, typical, baboons and fools think alike. "Well, now." said the second off to my right. "You're on a long journey, and that is one steep hike!" "Yes!" declared the third, maybe we could help loosen the weight!" By now their knives were drawn, the leader pointing it toward my hooded face. "Now, dear stranger, I want everything of value, and your purse please." And here I couldn't help but laugh, whether by sheer insanity or fear, but to these penny poor men, it wasn't yet clear. In the fog behind them, shadows were slowly carefully approach them. So intent on theft, they hardly even noticed them. No owls hooted, no longer did the crickets chirp, and soon these three murders will get their just deserts. I raised my hood slowly, giving them the time that they need, and in my eyes lay an astonishing fury, a fire burning at it's feed. So you want my money? well I have none to give. As for being a simple merchant, that was just a gig. Here is the truth, my dear Highwaymen and Murderers. You killed my father, in the days past. So the village and I got together, and found out a way to be rid of you at last! With confusion on their faces, the tables have been turned. I watched with boyish glee, and the Highwaymen blood hit the ground.