Word Count: 140
Murdoch leaned back in his chair and stared out the window, watching his younger son sitting in the shade of a tree, cleaning his gun with practiced ease.
Haunted. If any word described Johnny accurately, that word was it. He had arrived at Lancer with a haunted look in his eyes. At night, he heard the sounds of anguish coming from his room, as the demons returned night after night to haunt him.
His past haunted him. Every time he seemed to settle, something, or someone returned to haunt him. Would the haunting ever end for his younger son?