- Paragon Punishers
- Dark Miasma
- Dual Pistols
- Last Seen:
- 2569 days ago
Re-inventing yourself is relatively easy when compared to outliving everyone you've loved. One tends to develop a tough hide, inside and out, when living on past the time when death should have come.
It was in 1897 I met Joe Lefors, who got me in the Pinkertons. At first I thought cousin Bessie had gotten herself a real good man, but later realized he was all pretense. The Tom Horn case proved that.
Wanting to distance myself from this braggard I sought other work. It was during a cattle rustler hunt that my entire posse was killed. Yeah, including myself.
I still don't know what tribe the medecine man was from. Shoshone. Ute. In any case, I was dead - and now I wasn't. He stood over me, saying something, pointing at me and then pointing to the ground.
It was later I realized that when my feet touch ground, things can happen.
My name is Charles Hannum.
And I'm 149.
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