Eightieth Friday Flash: Fresh off the Battlefield

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Everyone was dead. All his friends, his horse, even the fearless general lay in a pool of his own blood. Mark Sheldon wasn't far from it himself a shot to his upper thigh. He was bound to bleed out sooner or later. It was all too much, to top it all off there was a scavenger moving among the dead. Grabbing rifles and picking pockets. Mark wouldn't stand for it. Wearily aiming his gun he got the plum shaped man in his sights and fired. Like a sack of potatoes the vulture went down.

The man let out such a wail. Not wanting to have to deal with the noise Mark moved closer to finish the job, every step more painful than the last. Within feet of the man Mark raised his pistol.

“No! Wait you don't understand. They didn't need them anymore. They are long dead!”

Mark spat. Long dead, just five minutes ago Leopold had smiled at him as he took his last breath.

“Scum.”

“They are priceless, I just couldn't bare to see them rot.”

The more the man spoke the harder it became for Mark to pull the trigger. Closing his eyes the thought of the man pick pocketing his corpse coming to mind.

“Here I will show you...” the man had a card in his hand.

There was a loud crack.

Fearing dark omens for not honouring the dead man's wish Mark leaned over and picked up the bloodied card.

It read:

Tim's Time Travelling Antiques Store.