SWNOVELXO Chapter 4: Episode 4 Hammer and a Nail
4
"Hammer and a Nail"
--
Day 2
That afternoon, the mysterious hedgehog, quiet as a desert breeze, walked the alleys, scoutin' every shadow of that town. Long, mournful shadows stretched from a half-rotted shack, its door hangin' loose, planks twisted and groan'n like an old man's bones. The wind, a mournful whisper, snaked through the cracks.
He stopped, eyed it, then moved closer.
Right there, by the doorframe, a rusty nail, half-buried in the wood – like it was just waitin' for someone to finish what was started.
Shing…
The hedgehog, quick as a rattler's strike, pulled a small knife from under his poncho. He bent low, dug that nail out with the blade's tip, turnin' it over to see the brown rust clingin' to its head. Then, from the roadside dust, he picked up a smooth, round stone.
The wind died sudden. The dust in the air seemed to hang, frozen. Flies on the wall went silent. And in a second-story window of a buildin' nearby – a shadow, just a flicker, pulled back a curtain.
Thunk!
The stone struck the nail's head, ringin' out like a forgotten bell in a ghost town. The wood shivered, takin' the blow. It wasn't a loud sound, not really… but it was louder than anything that town had heard in years.
The nameless hedgehog stood straight, starin' at that nail, driven deep into the wood. Didn't say a word.
But the world… it went quieter than before. Like a phantom mist, driftin' in to cloak the rooftops.
Mobian, the storekeep at the General Store, froze solid when he heard it. His hand, holdin' a glass of water, hung suspended in the air, neither liftin' nor settin' down.
Across town, Fennec stopped foldin' his paper. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, stared off in a direction where no one stood… like he knew somethin' had just broken loose.
Kids playin' by the church went still. Mothers pulled their young ones inside, doors slammin' shut without a sound. The air felt like dust turnin' to ash. Like the whole town took a breath at once, and no one dared to let it out.
"Now, we just wait…" the mysterious hedgehog muttered, after the nail was sunk. Then he walked on, leavin' that first nail strike in years to hang in the silent air.
That night, sudden and brutal, tragedy hit the town. Harlin, a Mobian drunk who always hollered behind the saloon, was found dead in the dry well in the town square. His neck was snapped, eyes wide with somethin' seen. No sign of a struggle. But in his hand, gripped tight… a single nail.
--
Day 3 in Nailhead.
Next mornin', the faint, mournful howlin' of a Mobian dog drifted from behind the old church. A few plumes of smoke rose from chimneys – but every curtain was drawn tight. News of Harlin's death spread without a single word spoken. Everyone knew. No one asked.
The town began to shiver in its silence. And whispers, soft as a snake's hiss, started again… "The curse is back." "That hedgehog… he hammered the nail." "He started this hell."
The mysterious hedgehog stood on the porch of the old shack where he'd driven the nail yesterday. He didn't run. Didn't hide. Just stood there, silent.
Clunk… clunk… clunk…
The slow, heavy sound of leather boot heels approached. Then, the shadow of the Nailhead Sheriff, a middle-aged rhino Mobian in a gold-trimmed leather hat, a pistol at his hip, lookin' more for talkin' than shootin'. He stopped three paces back. No closer.
"Wherever you came from, I suggest you…"
"Keep movin'…" His voice, soft, but clear as a bell. "This ain't a place for men who wanna fix old worlds."
The mysterious hedgehog didn't answer. He just sighed soft and said, "Just one nail. Enough to kill a whole town… Strange, ain't it?"
The sheriff's teeth ground together. "Some questions ain't got no one who wants to answer 'em… 'Cause some answers can kill a town faster than fire." He pulled a nail from his pocket, tossed it to the hedgehog. "Keep it. A reminder… before you hammer anything else down." Then he turned, walked away without a word of farewell.
That afternoon, some townsfolk started gatherin' outside the saloon, their eyes dartin' toward where the mysterious hedgehog walked. They whispered, low and mean. "It started with him…" "Before, it was just a story… but Harlin's truly dead, ain't he?" "He oughta go… before anyone else dies."
A few of those townsfolk, their hands on their guns, walked up to the mysterious hedgehog. Their intentions were clear as a cloudless sky. But when they stood facin' him, they felt a chill, a fear they couldn't name. His eyes, cold and deep as a desert abyss at midnight, held them. No sound, no movement, not even a flicker in his gaze. But those eyes spoke louder than any shout: "If you walk on… you better be sure you're worth the bullet." It was a gaze that quieted half the whispers, made hands on guns hesitate, even made stray dogs tuck tail and circle wide. Because it wasn't just a look – it was a silent promise. It said, plain as day: "These ain't the eyes of a man hopin' to survive. These are the eyes of a man who knows killin', and won't hesitate to do it again."
Anyone lookin' for trouble usually stopped… thought it over for a spell – and most times… they backed off. 'Cause in those eyes, there was no bluff. Only "ready." Always.
And just like that, the townsfolk who'd come lookin' for the hedgehog moved aside, let him pass.
"To find the cause… you gotta go where it started," the mysterious hedgehog mumbled to himself, before walkin' into the saloon where he was stayin'.
Hours later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, under the pale light of the moon…
Thump… thump… thump…
The mysterious hedgehog walked back to the half-collapsed church, the one no one had dared to enter for nearly ten years. He was alone, carryin' a lantern. Didn't waste a second, walked right in.
On the other side of the church, in a buildin' nearby, someone watched him from a second-story window, watched him enter the church. Must've been the same one from this mornin'.
Shing…
He drew the small knife from its sheath.
Creak… groan…
He pried up a floorboard near the stairs – a spot where the wood looked newer than the rest.
He started diggin'… layer by layer…
Less than ten minutes later…
He found a "secret compartment" – several nails half-driven. Inside, an "old roll of documents," wrapped in animal hide. And "some bones," that had no business bein' there.
He sat quiet for a moment. Then picked up one of the nails from the compartment. It still had dried blood, sunk deep into the iron.
Thump… thump… thump…
Soft footsteps sounded behind him. He spun 'round… Fennec stood there, silent, not far. Still holdin' a sheet of paper. Folded into a "cross."
He didn't speak. Just looked at the mysterious hedgehog with eyes that "knew more than they should."
He didn't speak at first. Just walked in quiet and placed the folded paper on the floor, by the edge of the wood.
The mysterious hedgehog stared at him – not with question, but like he was waitin' to see if Fennec would dare to speak.
Another moment of silence…
Then, Fennec finally spoke, his voice soft, a little hoarse, like he was usin' his real voice for the first time in years. "…You shouldn't be here at night."
The mysterious hedgehog raised an eyebrow… but still didn't speak.
Fennec went on, still not meetin' his gaze, just starin' at the floorboards. "They'll come for you…" "Not 'cause you hammered the nail."
"..."
"…But 'cause you ain't afraid of it."
The mysterious hedgehog spoke, low. "They? Who?"
Fennec shook his head slow. "I don't know." "I never left this place… I just listen to the sounds." He pulled a new sheet of paper from his shirt pocket, handed it to the mysterious hedgehog. It was folded, lookin' like a nail piercin' a heart. Simple, but it stung the eyes.
Fennec spoke his last words. "…Some things in this town ain't buried under the ground… they're buried in people." Then he stood still, watchin' to see what the mysterious hedgehog would do next.
The mysterious hedgehog paused for a moment, then picked up the dark, old roll of documents, wrapped in animal hide, tied with a rope that was already half-broken. He unwrapped it slow – dust flew from the paper as it unrolled. Some ink had faded, but some words were clear as if written yesterday. The message in the document:
"…No one dares speak of Jadediah anymore – even though he was the only one who built this church with his own hands, but never finished it…"
"He told me he saw crates of somethin' bein' moved into the police station's basement in the dead of night – no marks, no papers."
"He went to speak with the sheriff that night… The next day, he was found dead in his own home. Nails driven all over his body, pinned to his bed."
"They say the Curse of the Nail punished him for speakin' ill of sacred things… But I know – it was a killin' to shut him up."
"And I… I stayed silent – I let fear bury the truth. And I performed his funeral, knowin' that the hand that killed him… wore a star."
The mysterious hedgehog picked up other documents. An old envelope tucked in with the journal – inside, a list of names involved. Including the most familiar name… "The Sheriff." He'd signed off on under-the-table deliveries 47 times in a single year.
He found a piece of paper tucked inside that envelope. Not the handwriting of the previous person, likely a priest, but written in a stiff, rough hand, like someone used to a gun more than a pen. The paper had been folded for so long, there were faint bloodstains at the corner of the envelope. The message on the paper:
"To whoever reads this…"
"I'm Rogan – a gunslinger from beyond the plains, who passed through this town three years ago."
"It started with rumors, the Curse of the Nail, sounded funny to a killer like me… But the longer I stayed, the more I knew it wasn't just a story. It was a cage."
"I snuck into the police station at night, and found a list of deliveries no one talked about – unmarked wooden crates, full of illegal goods."
"And right there… I saw Sheriff Grint's signature under every delivery receipt."
"When I tried to speak, someone put a bullet in my hat – the next night, I was hunted."
"I wrote this letter in case someone else finds what I did one day… and has a better chance of survivin'."
"The curse never existed – only fear that shoots straighter than us."
-Rogan
"It ain't a curse… it's a kill order…"
"You spoke… but you died before your voice was loud enough…" "Well, this time… it's my turn to speak."
The mysterious hedgehog said, his voice flat, not turnin' to look at anyone – like he was speakin' to Rogan's ghost, still lingerin' there.
"Funny, ain't it…"
"Why was it so easy…" Fennec asked, puzzled. That old, blood-stained paper… it wasn't somethin' that should've "survived" so easily in a town like this. Just tucked in a secret compartment under the church – not even a lock, no code, no trap. Just like you had to find what was out of place, then dig.
"Or maybe… they wanted someone to find it?" the mysterious hedgehog said.
"And what would that get 'em?" Fennec asked, puzzled.
Silence.
The wind through a hole in the roof, a piercing whisper like distant laughter. "Maybe it ain't a mistake…"
"Maybe it's a game…" the mysterious hedgehog said. He paused for a moment. His eyes hardened. "They didn't hide the secret… they purposely left it for someone, like the one in the letter, to find…"
"Then watch 'em get hunted, killed… like a dog sniffin' around a rich man's trash can."
He chuckled, low in his throat – not a laugh of amusement, but of a man who knew the world was too rotten to surprise him anymore.
"The curse didn't kill people… the ones who believe they're gods did…" the mysterious hedgehog finished, then picked up all the documents and walked past Fennec, out of the church.
Fennec didn't say a word. He just watched the mysterious hedgehog walk away. No words. No blinkin'. Wonderin' if he should follow.
The red dust of the town began to drift slow in the low, slantin' sunlight. The one who watched the mysterious hedgehog enter the church from the second floor of that buildin' was gone after the hedgehog walked out.
A light wind, but it stung the face like claws. Wooden houses on both sides of the street, windows shut tight, like the town was empty. But truth be told… every eye might have been peepin' from narrow cracks above.
The mysterious hedgehog walked slow.
Clunk… clunk…
The steady sound of boots on gravel. In his hand – all the documents, tied with old cloth rope. He didn't hide 'em. Didn't tuck 'em under his coat. He held 'em by his side, like sayin', "Anyone who wants 'em… come and get 'em."
But the town's silence made his breath heavy. The sunlight hit the dust, makin' a thin mist that blurred shadows. If they were gonna ambush… now was the time.
He didn't quicken his pace. Every step slower… more like a lure in an open field. To his left – a dark shape on a balcony. To his right – a window, half-open, movin' slow like someone pushed it from inside.
The hedgehog's hand gripped the rope around the documents tighter. Not 'cause he was afraid they'd fall. But 'cause he started to "feel the eyes" aimed at his back. His shadow stretched long before him, like it was leadin' the way to death.
Then, sudden…
BANG!!!!
A gunshot ripped through the air without warning. The bullet whistled past his ear by less than a second – but… it wasn't a bullet meant for him. It was a bullet that "stopped" another bullet.
Thud!!!
Somethin' fell from the roof of the house to his left – the body of a gunman in a black coat, crumpled, hand still on his rifle. Blood, slow and thick, began to stain the wooden roof tiles…
From the corner of an alley on the right – a small shadow moved slow. Fennec.
His old cloak billowed slow in the dusty wind. The revolver in his hand still held faint smoke from the barrel. He didn't speak, just looked at the nameless hedgehog. Like askin', "You goin' on?"
"…Mm." The mysterious hedgehog didn't answer him, just gave a slight nod.
Then he walked on. The sound of his boots on the dusty ground echoed again. And the world went quiet… and somethin' began to stir in the town's shadows.
Dust still hung in the air… The first gunman's body still lay on the roof. But the mysterious hedgehog didn't turn back. He walked on… holdin' the truth in his hand, his other hand gripped tight to the edge of his poncho. Every step was a slap in the face of this town's silence.
Fifty yards away – on an old tower above the blacksmith's shop, another gunman shifted. His rifle rested on the window ledge. He breathed in… BANG!
His head snapped back before his finger even pulled the trigger. He slumped silent, like he was never there.
Another alley behind the stables. A bulky man in old clothes crouched behind wooden crates. He held a double-barreled shotgun… waitin' for the mysterious hedgehog to walk past his kill zone! BANG!!
A bullet from another angle tore into his shoulder. The gun clattered to the ground before he was shot again in the temple – silence.
On the wooden walkway beside the clock tower. A female Mobian sharpshooter sat waitin', a cigarette in her mouth, peerin' through a scope. She saw the mysterious hedgehog walk past the kill zone by a hair's breadth… She smiled grimly. "You ain't as lucky as Rogan…" BANG!!
A bullet from the side, right through her left eye socket. Her body slumped onto the wood, the scope fallin' with a crunch.
The mysterious hedgehog kept walking, just the same. Not faster, not slower. He didn't turn to look at any of the dead. Didn't speak. Didn't smile. He just walked.
Until the end of the street…
Before the Sheriff's Office – a faded, single-story wooden building, its door tied shut with old rope. No doorknob. No heavy weapons. No soldiers. But inside, that's where the one who ordered every one of those killings waited.
He stopped before the building. Picked up the envelope of documents again. His breath, slow but heavy. He didn't wait for Fennec. Didn't look back.
He pushed the wooden door open.
Creak…
The faint sound of rope.
Dust scattered on the wooden floor.
The hedgehog, who knew the most truth in town… walked into the rhino's den, askin' for no quarter.
The mysterious hedgehog stood in the center of the room. In his hand… the envelope of documents. His eyes were dark, like he wasn't lookin' at anything… not even the death lurkin' in every corner.
Creak…
The back door opened softly. The sheriff walked in with a smile, a big revolver in his hand – loaded and ready.
"You're better than I figured…" "Rogan took a month… but you only took three days."
"You came quick… usually, folks who find the truth run." "But you don't seem like that kind of man." The sheriff said.
The mysterious hedgehog didn't say a word. His gaze was still, like nothing was before him – not even the other man's life.
"Rogan stood right here too," the sheriff continued, "but he said a bit more than you…" the sheriff said.
Then, sudden! Three of the sheriff's men burst in from behind and through the window. All guns aimed and ready.
"Even if you're smart…" "You ain't smart enough…"
"Four sides… four guns… nowhere to run." "You and Rogan ain't so different… just slower to be stupid." The sheriff said, a mix of praise and mockery.
The mysterious hedgehog didn't speak. He set the envelope of documents on the floor. Looked up slow, then… raised both arms, like he was givin' up.
The sheriff's men chuckled. "Huh… easier than I thought."
But that's when the sheriff started to feel… somethin' wasn't right. His eyes fixed on the mysterious hedgehog's right elbow. It was too still… like it was just hangin' there, weightless…
"…Wait…" He barely got the word out.
BANG! BANG!
Two shots, one after the other – too fast to even see the move. The mysterious hedgehog ducked his head, shakin' his cloak. From beneath the cloak – his real right and left hands shot out, twin revolvers in each.
The first henchman – shot dead through the eye. The second – hit in the body. The third tried to raise his gun… but was shot in the fingers first, then the chest.
All done in less than two seconds.
Smoke from the guns curled up, faint. The mysterious hedgehog's fake arm fell to the floor, exactly as he intended, a final taunt.
Thud.
It was just a wooden arm, covered in cloth – a trick of the eye. He picked up the envelope of documents from the floor, slow, like nothing had happened.
The sheriff stumbled back, one step at a time. The gun in his hand trembled.
Clunk… clunk…
He'd seen plenty of death, but never this kind of "stillness" before. "Y-you…" "You planned this from the start…"
The nameless hedgehog looked up. His eyes, under the shadow of his hat, were still as water in an undisturbed well. "Yeah." "And what did you plan?"
The sheriff tried to raise his gun…
BANG!!!
He was shot before his finger could even pull the trigger. His body slumped to the floor – his last breath swallowed by shadow and dust.
The nameless hedgehog spun his revolver slow. The click-click-click echoed in the room, filled with dead men and gunsmoke.
He picked up the fake wooden arm. He turned, walked out of the room.
With gunshots that loud, townsfolk began to trickle out, one by one. And they found the mysterious hedgehog standing right there before them.
The nameless hedgehog raised the envelope slightly, like showin' it without explainin'. Then he offered it to one of the townsfolk.
"Some folks ain't killed… they just found what they'd done come back to collect." The mysterious hedgehog said, short, before walkin' away from the crowd.
"The sheriff's dead!!!!" a townsman's shout echoed from behind the mysterious hedgehog.
The mysterious hedgehog didn't say another word. He didn't care anymore. He walked straight into the saloon where he was stayin'.
Day 5 in Nailhead.
(Day 4 didn't see much change, it seems.)
Nailhead, this mornin'… wasn't as quiet as before. People started talkin', low and easy, by the roadside.
Tap… tap…
Wood that once dared not be touched now held the faint sound of a hammer, from an old carpenter. Though no one said it straight out, "The curse is gone," many eyes now met theirs directly, not dartin' away like yesterday.
Outside the General Store, the mysterious hedgehog stood with his horse, one hand strokin' its neck soft.
He didn't say goodbye. Didn't say thanks. Just looked up at the town sign, "Nailhead," one last time. Then swung himself into the saddle.
"The road ahead is long…" "Hyah!!" he said, before spurrin' his horse out of town.
And Fennec, hidden near the General Store, watched the mysterious hedgehog ride out. Now, two thoughts battled in his head: "Stay or go?"
The silence was broken by the old Mobian storekeep, who touched his shoulder. "Other kids… if they ain't helpin' their folks, they at least got dreams." "Only you… always foldin' somethin' quiet, waitin' for someone else to change the town." The storekeep spoke, watchin' the mysterious hedgehog's distant shadow disappearin' from town.
Fennec tensed a bit. His clenched hand tightened. The storekeep continued, not lookin' up. "A man like that hedgehog who just left… one day he'll forget this town." "But you'll still be sittin' in the same room, foldin' paper, like every year before."
Silence. Even the dust didn't dare to float. Fennec didn't argue. Walked away quiet, his usual way. But his eyes… they weren't the same anymore.
The old carpenter fixin' the church roof leaned his hammer against his side. Stood watchin' the mysterious hedgehog's shadow, ridin' away, about to vanish from the horizon.
"Had 'em before… three of 'em. First one came with a harmonica… didn't say much, but left a sound that lingered. Second was a man with a smile, didn't trust anyone, but people always listened to him. And the last one… wore a dark coat, like her. But his eyes… they looked like they'd seen ten years of war –"
He turned back, tapped his hammer soft on the wood. Didn't say who was who. Didn't say who helped or who destroyed.
"But all three… they just asked, then left, like dust in the wind. No one really changed anything – or maybe they never wanted to change it at all…"
--
Later that same night, behind the silent horse farm, a single horse rope was untied. Fennec, in his old cloak, swung onto the saddle, just enough to stay on. The horse he'd stolen wasn't the fastest… but it seemed tired of bein' tied up in silence too.
Fennec didn't fold paper anymore. He had one bag slung over his shoulder. Then he rode out, followin' the single horse tracks left in the sand – likely the mysterious hedgehog's.
Clop!! Clop!! Clop!!
"At least… I'll find out if the 'outside world' ain't as quiet as this town." He said, then rode on.
To be continued.