Gianfranco Mancini’s Reviews > The Night Silver River Run Red > Status Update
Gianfranco Mancini
is 71% done
Torches flared. Shadows cavorted. Someone bashed open the post office’s door, hollering, “Special delivery!” and three men crowded in, jeering and waving pistols, like they anticipated meeting no resistance. Well, surprise on them, wasn’t it? Shane shot the first one between the eyes and blew a fair brain- and blood-laden portion of the back of his skull all over the faces of his comrades.
— May 26, 2024 12:11AM
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Gianfranco’s Previous Updates
Gianfranco Mancini
is 79% done
“You’d . . . ”
“Be our secret,” he said. “No one else need ever know, not even your boy. People can be real sympathetic. Such a loss, such an ordeal. They’d hardly have cause for suspicion or fault-findin’, would they? But I have to hear it from you.”
“Yes,” she whispered. She blinked, as if at her own audacity. Then, she met his eyes, and repeated it stronger. “Yes. Please.”
— May 27, 2024 01:04AM
“Be our secret,” he said. “No one else need ever know, not even your boy. People can be real sympathetic. Such a loss, such an ordeal. They’d hardly have cause for suspicion or fault-findin’, would they? But I have to hear it from you.”
“Yes,” she whispered. She blinked, as if at her own audacity. Then, she met his eyes, and repeated it stronger. “Yes. Please.”
Gianfranco Mancini
is 78% done
Outside, the noisy hoo-raw continued; he recognized Nate’s voice in what sounded like negotiations and figured someone in town had kept their guns and their wits about them enough to force a stand-off. He also smelled smoke, probably Unholy Joe having torched another church after making his customary gory offering to the Devil.
— May 27, 2024 12:57AM
Gianfranco Mancini
is 75% done
His face . . . his eyes . . . where his eyes should have been . . . gnarled knots of scar tissue twisting from temple to temple . . . the bridge of his nose a craggy ruin . . .
She brought up the gun to fire, but the man with no eyes fired first.
— May 27, 2024 12:49AM
She brought up the gun to fire, but the man with no eyes fired first.
Gianfranco Mancini
is 62% done
That were some poetic, and he wished he could write it down. He’d forget by morning. Only, there wouldn’t be no more mornings for him, or for anyone else in this town. When the sun rose, it’d rise to slit throats and stabbed hearts, to necks snapped and strangled, to lopped-off heads. To blood. So much blood.
— May 24, 2024 01:42AM
Gianfranco Mancini
is 61% done
Death come in the night. Like a plague, but not the smallpox or cholera kind. More the kind like what the preacher talked about, like in Egypt, dark angels moving door to door in silent slaughter.
Hadn’t he seen it with his very own eyes?
— May 24, 2024 01:36AM
Hadn’t he seen it with his very own eyes?
Gianfranco Mancini
is 48% done
Leonard took the next door, which let onto a room flooded with moonlight. A portly man of middle years occupied the bed, smiling and smacking his lips in his sleep as if dreaming of oysters in cream sauce. One slit throat later, and planning the next day’s menu was no longer his concern.
— May 22, 2024 12:58AM
Gianfranco Mancini
is 45% done
Otto kept their official tally, but Leonard wasn’t of a bad mind for figuring himself and made it fourteen dead already. Fourteen dead, not a shot fired, the rest of the valley none the wiser. Knife-work, mostly, though Billy-Jack specialized in neck-snapping. He was a small sort, but wiry and surprising strong for his size.
— May 22, 2024 12:49AM
Gianfranco Mancini
is 35% done
A stout stone-and-log house stood partway up the western slopes of the wooded mountain foothills. It boasted a corn field, a garden plot, a hen coop, a barn big enough for a couple goats and a pony . . . and a view of the valley spreading out, the river a ribbon through it, the town clustered so peaceful-like with no way of knowing the violence about to ensue . . .
— May 20, 2024 10:42PM
