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I'm sending you ta Hell with a message. When you meet the Devil... tell 'em Jonah Hex sends his regards.
— Jonah Hex

Jonah Woodson Hex was an infamous bounty hunter who lived during the Old West-era of the DC Universe. As implied in his name, Hex's life has been a tale full of misfortunes and tragedy. He was born to a drunk abusive father and his mother left him while he was young. During the gold rush, his father sold the young Hex to an Apache tribe. He would live under the tribe, gaining their trust and respect, before one of their members who was jealous of Hex, betrayed and abandoned him during a raid on an enemy tribe. He later escaped and took refuge under the plantation of Quentin and Jeb Turnbull. When the American Civil War began, Hex fought for the Confederacy due to his debt to the Turnbulls. However, he later defected from the Confederates after learning the reason of their rebellion, since he himself knew the experience of being sold as a property first-hand. He would try to get back to his former Apache tribe, only for this endeavor to result in tragedy, and him being branded the "mark of the demon" on his face.

The trauma of the Civil War and being horribly scarred left Hex broken. He would continue to wear his Confederate uniform as a symbol that he was a villain that everyone should get away from. He shunned away from religion and society as a whole, becoming an atheistic outcast. A chance encounter with the criminal Eddie Cantwell led Hex to a life of bounty hunting. From then on, Hex would use his experience in the Apache and the Confederacy, becoming a formidable manhunter and gunslinger. He would go on to suffer more tragedies, including the abandonment of his wife Mei Ling, and death of his and Tallulah Black's infant daughter. Hex finally died at the beginning of the 20th century, and his corpse would be stuffed and used as a sideshow mannequin before finally being buried in peace.

Battle vs. John Marston and Silas Greaves (by Geekboy27)[]

Silas rode into the town known as Abilene. A small little town in Kansas, the one where he told the locals in the saloon the story about Silas Greaves and his quest for vengence. He looked for the same saloon. He has a new story.


Silas walks into the Saloon, the interior matching his last encounter with the building.  Silas soon noticed the same people he told the story to last time. Molly, Dwight, Bob, Jack, and Ben were there. Soon, they noticed him. 

"Mr. Greaves!" Dwight said, suprised at Silas's apperance in the bar.

Dwight looked older then last time. He had left to West Point when Silas last visited. 

"Good to see you again, people." Silas said, smiling. 

Silas sits down at a table, giving a quick glance at his wound, still bandaged. Dwight sat down at the table, followed by Jack, Bob, and Ben. Ben looked at Silas cautiosly. He remembers the time when Silas decided to let him live, even after his long quest for vengence. Jack noticed Sila's wounds. 

"What's with those wounds there?" Jack asked, gazing at the wounds. 

"I'll tell you a story." Silas said.


It was some time after I visited this saloon. I went back to bounty hunting. One day, I got a bounty for a man by the name of Jonah Hex. Which drove me to the town of Armadillo. A town sort of like this, except everybody isn't trying to shoot everybody here. I walk into the saloon to find Jonah Hex at the bar. He turned to look at me. One ugly sumabitch. He got a bad burn when he was a child, hence the big scar on his face. Anyway, I looked to him and said: 

"'Hey, Hex. You got a debt to pay." 

I whipped out my pistol fast, and fired a shot at him. Damn thing went to the wall. Pulled it out way to fast. Hex hopped over the table and then pulled out his pistol and then blindly returned fire. I jumped over a table and tipped it over for cover. Suddenly, some guy walks in, and begins firing at Hex. I remember his name was Marston. He was kinda like me, we both went on a large quest for our loved ones. Well, his loved ones are alive. Anyway, he began firing with his pistol at Hex. He yelled something like:

"You're comin' with me, Hex!"

That's when I realized that he was here for the bounty as well. I fired a shot at Hex's direction, but Marston looked at me and fired a shot at me. He yelled:

"I need him!"

I fired a warning shot at Marston as well, getting him to dive for cover.

There was a small stalemate where we all reloaded. Hex jumped out from his cover, fired a shot at Marston, hitting him in the shoulder, and a shot at me, hitting me in my leg. Hex ran upstairs, and began firing on us from above. Marston pulled out his rifle, and fired a shot at Hex, hardly missing him, and knocking his damn hat off. That's when Hex got angry. He yelled:

"Y'all sons a' bitches best get lost before ya' get killed!"

Hex ran outside through a door that was on the balcony upstairs. Marston ran outside, and I followed. It was clear, everybody ran off. As I stood near a building, Hex fired at me with his rifle. I took at my rifle and fired back. I must of hit him, cause' I heard him curse out in pain. Marston rused at me from a corner, but I quickly shot at him, hitting his rifle instead. It fell to the floor, and before I could finish him, Hex fired a bullet at my hand, making me drop my damn pistol. I tried to raise my other pistol, but Marston jumped at me, and threw a kick at my head, knocking me flat.

I came to after a bit, and looked around. Marston ran up the balcony, pistol in hand, and fired at Hex, hitting him in his arm, and his stomach several times. As Marston got close, Hex kicked him in the nuts, and pulled out a hatchet. He swung it at Marston, hitting him in the neck. Marston slumped over, and Hex quickly limped off. 

I passed out, and was patched up.


"So you didn't catch Hex?" Dwight asked, surprised. 

"No." Hex responded.

"Sonovabitch rode off, probably to get patched up."

Silas pulled out a pistol, and slammed it onto the table. 

"I gotta' score to settle."

Winner: Jonah Hex

Expert's Opinion[]

TBW

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Battle vs. Roland Deschain (by Killermoves)[]

In a small prairie town somewhere in the American Old West, two men stood face to face. One was Jonah Hex, the infamous bounty hunter with a nasty scar. The other, was a young man and gunslinger of Eld named Roland Deschain. Both man stood poised with their hands close to their holsters, ready to pull their pistols at any second. Their eyes were locked into each other, sizing up their opponent and watching for any movement.

The townspeople have already taken refuge in their homes, with their windows and doors shut tight. No one wants to be part of this violence and everyone just waits and prays for it to be over.

“So, you damn sonuvabitch…” Roland said. “How much did the sorcerer pay you to track me?”

“Ah’m not really that much good in math,” Jonah Hex replied. “But the sum of yo’ reward will make even the King of Siam envy.”

“Well ugly… taking this job’s gonna will be the worst decision of your life," Roland said before drawing his sandalwood pistol and fires. Jonah managed to dodge the bullet which grazed only the top of his hat, before he too pumps his Colt Dragoons. Roland takes one in the leg before he takes cover behind a stone well.

As Jonah continues to shoot at Roland, the pinned down gunslinger, while twirling a couple of bullet casings in his hand, yelled, “Listen! We don’t have to do this! Can’t you see that the Crimson King is only manipulating you! You won’t get anything after this, he’ll kill you too! You should ride with me and fight him. I’ll double whatever that bastard offered you.”

“Your mind tricks won't work on me boy,” Jonah Hex said, suddenly appearing on top of a wooden house overlooking Roland and aiming his Winchester rifle. “I’m a professional and I aim to get my job done.”

Jonah then shoots Roland twice in the abdomen and the young gun fell down with blood coming from his mouth. Roland however, was still alive, and managed to spin around and shoot Jonah before he can fire another round, hitting the bounty hunter in the leg. Jonah yelled in pain as his leg gave up, and he falls into the dusty floor of the street below.

Roland limps his way to where Jonah Hex fell while clutching his wounds. “Now where’d you go you ugly mother*cker.”

“Right here you dumb sonuvabitch!” Jonah said as he springs from Roland’s back and plunges his bowie knife into Roland’s chest.

Roland yells in pain as he continuously fire his guns, some of which slightly hitting Jonah, but the bounty hunter just continues to keep digging his bowie knife into Roland’s chest cavity, before Roland finally falls down.

“The Dark Tower…” Roland whisphers with his last remaining breaths. “It calls me…. I have to get to the tower. Susan… I need to reach…”

But Jonah Hex draws his Colt Dragoon to his face and said, “End of the journey boy,” before he pulls the trigger.

Expert's Opinion[]

While Roland Deschain was more superhumanly accurate, experts believe that Jonah Hex was ultimately smarter, tougher andhad better feats of experience. Roland Deschain has fought powerful beings like Randall Flagg to the Wolves of Calla, but this is nothing compared to what Jonah Hex has faced. His feats trumped Roland both in terms of strength and smarts. Not only did Jonah Hex fought supernatual beings like Roland, but he also fought against cyborgs, giant robot, Bruce Wayne and even a futuristic Batman. To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Battle vs. Django Freeman (by Lunathemoon123)[]

Django stood at the bar, sipping from a roughly molded clay cup. The crowd around him was sparse, with only a few other lowly adventurers and village folk sitting around him. He had been moving from town to town for nearly a month now, trying to evade the men hunting him. As he drank, he heard someone enter through the double doors behind him. Django glanced back, only to see a tall, blonde man, dressed in a grey confederate uniform and with a substantial facial scar. “Damn” he thought to himself. Just based on his appearance, this man was likely a man hunting him. He was incidentally also the man he’d been searching for as well. He took one more sip from his glass before putting it down. After a short pause, the man behind him spoke.

"Django Freeman. You know why I’m here” he said, his hands reaching towards his pistols. “You know your options. I’m leaving them up to you”. Django brought his hands down, resting them on his gun belt, fingers wrapped around his pistol handles. He took a deep breath before acting. “Alright Hex” he sighed before acting. Within a single movement Django hand spun around, both revolvers drawn. Two bangs fired off, followed by a loud clambering. As Django fires off two rounds, Jonah was able to react quickly, dropping two one knee and rolling sideways, knocking into a chair. As he dropped, he drew his pistol, firing a single shot. The round whizzed by Django's head, the bullet just barely missing him. As Jonah landed on us feet in a squat, he brought up his other Dragoon. But as he fired off another round, Django had already dove over the bar.

The two cocked their guns, preparing for another pass. Due to a lack of cover. Jonah hoped to his feet, quickly diving towards a nearby table and flipping in on its side. But as he moved, Django hopped up, firing off two rounds at him. But due to Jonah's own reflexes, the bullets just barely fell short. Popping up from his table, Jonah quickly got to his feet and fired off two more shots. One ball stuck the wall near him, with the other grazing by Django's shoulder, causing him to drop down. Django, seeing that he was out matched, knew he had to get out of the saloon. He then put away his left hand revolver, hopping up and leaping over the bar. But as Jonah got up to fire, Django began fanning the fire hammer to his pistol, firing off 4 bullets. Being taken by surprise, Jonah quickly dropped back down, but not before being struck in the shoulder by a ball. Winding with pain, Jonah quickly got back to his feet. At the same moment, Django has fled out the door, running into the street towards his horse.

He got to the animal, removing his Henry from its sheathed position on the saddle. And as Jonah came running out the door, Django began unloading into the building front and towards Jonah. Being forced to dodge back, Jonah lept back inside the saloon. Django then jumped back onto his horse, kicking the beast into action. But as he began to flee, Jonah came running from the building, a Winchester in his hands. He took an aimed shot at Django. The ball flew through the air, striking Django in the shoulder. The impact of the blast was itself enough the knock Django off his horse, sprawling him across the muddy ground. But as Jonah reloaded and prepared another shot, Django had already bounced back. He fired off another round from Henry, causing Jonah to break his concentration to dodge. But as Django prepared another shot, the gun jammed. “Fuck” he grunted as he scrambled too his feet. Abandoning his rifle, Django drew a revolver with his good hand as he bolted towards a nearby building.

He took cover as Jonah took another shot, the ball missing him. Django swung, firing his pistol, causing Jonah to dodge again. Jonah began running towards him, preparing another shot. But as he brought up his gun to fire, Django swung back around again. This time he fired off another round, with the ball striking Jonah in the hand. Jonah hissed with pain as the first digit of his left pointer finger blasted off. He dropped his rifle, instinctually drawing his revolver and firing off a shot. The ball dug up a section of the beam near Django's head, causing him to flinch. As Jonah cocked the pistol, Django dove back, running along the side of the house. Jonah swung around the side of the house, taking two pop shots. Django evades both, hitting the ground and pouncing forwards, swinging around to the back of the house. He then popped his hand back, firing off another shot blindly. As he got to his feet, he looked around the corner, only to see nothing. A moment later, the sound of glass shattering sounded, causing Django to look towards the window near him.

Like a grey streak of light, Jonah dove out of the broken window, landing in a crouch after rolling head on our heels. He was a close range, giving Django a free shot. But as Django brought up his pistol, Jonah had already swung around and began firing off his own round. Two bangs sound, with two shouts of pain following. The bullet aimed at Django hit him in his good shoulder. The bullet aimed at Jonah whizzed by his face, blasting apart his right ear. Both men fell backwards, Django slumping against the house. Jonah fell to his knees as he gripped at the remaining half of his ear. But he was quickly able to get back up, drawing up a tomahawk from his belt. He began closing in, soon getting within melee range of Django. “You should’ve given up when you could’ve” he said as he brought up the axe. But Django was done just get, with all the strength he had left, he brought forwards his hand, a metallic click sounding as he did so.

In his hand was a simple derringer, pointed towards Jonah ribs. With a bang, the gun fired off. But instead of landing home, the gun misse as Jonah contorted at the waist, the bullet only just piercing his flesh. Jonah, now panicked, then brought down the axe into Django, the blade piercing his shoulder and onto his neck. In one last act of belligerence, Django grabbed Jonah's hand, trying to stop him from striking again. But due to a mix of blood loss and physical damage, Django wasn’t strong enough. Jonah pulled the axe free, bringing it down on Django's head, killing the black bounty hunter. Jonah then stumbled backwards, panting heavily. He was wounded and in pain, but alive, and with a sizable bounty now under his belt. He laid back, grabbing at his wounded hand. As he panted, a number of citizens arrived, surrounding him. “Fetch the Sheriff and a Doctor” he said as he closed his eyes in exhaustion, letting the people’s him running to get him aid.

Expert's Opinion[]

While Django put up one hell of a fight, Jonah simply had him beat in most catagories. Jonah was a more trained and experience warrior, pretty much winning him the X-factor catagory. He also had much greater feats to his name, doing things which far exceeding anything Django could do. And to top it all off, most voters generally sided with Jonah as having better equipment, which pretty much gave garenteed Jonahs victory.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Battle vs Kenshin Himura (by Killermoves)[]

It was an era of innovation, a century of civil wars. A time for industry and revolution, a time for the feudal ways to die. The 19th century was known for many things, from science, warfare, and literature; a real period far from its romanticized and bastardized Victorian caricature.

Deep in the jungle, the smell of smoke and embers permeated from a makeshift camp that a lonely Japanese man had built. He sat down near the fire, his katana on his shoulder, hugging it tight as one would cradle a child. He shivered behind his long red Japanese dress, his eyes constricted as he fought the wetness and the cold. Lonely and silent, he only had the banana trees, acacia trees, and the bugs to keep him company. He’d killed a lot of men in his youth, but bugs, and nature itself, was an enemy he had never been able to defeat.

It seemed for him, that this godforsaken jungle-infested island, was not built for people to live in.

The man was known as the Hitokiri Battousai of the Bakumatsu, but by the Meiji era, he became known as the pacifistic wandering rounin. His name was Kenshin Himura, and he now slightly regretted agreeing to take part in this government mission to the island dotted somewhere in the Pacific.

“Kaoru-san…” he murmured. “I miss you, my dear wife…”

Suddenly, the peace would be disturbed by a loud bang, and the ronin would disappear from his campfire. The cocking of a lever-action rifle came next, followed by the rustling of leaves and branches.

Out came a man wearing a brown uniform and a Confederate slouch hat. His rifle breathed smoke as he surveyed the area in front of him. His face was so scarred and grotesque that not even the tortorous jungle could match its horror. It was as if Satan himself had decided to take a walk in the mortal world.

“Where the hell did he go?” the man said to himself, perplexed. His name was Jonah Hex, and while he had faced a lot of enemies throughout the years, it was the first time he’d seen someone disappear into thin air. His mind had begun thinking; maybe it was no man he tried to kill, maybe it was a ghost.

Slowly, Jonah began backing away from the camp. It was a bad move, walking out like that into the open. He had the advantage of the jungle when he attempted that ambush. But now? Not only was he bereft of his initial advantage, but the jungle now masked his dangerous prey, turning itself into his disadvantage.

Suddenly, a glimmer of a blade appeared out of the foliage. Hex could barely dodge the slash, but the blade did connect with his rifle, somehow cutting it in two. The cowboy then rolled on the ground while simultaneously discarding the remnants of his rifle. He already had his revolvers drawn when landed back to his feet.

In front of him, was Himura Kenshin; his hands gripping his katana tightly, his eyes burning with rage. Jonah cocked both his revolvers and said, “I swear you coulda cut me if you wanted to with that speed of yers.”

“Sumimasen,” Kenshin replied, eyes still enraged.

Kenshin wanted to know why that man tried to shoot him. But he was jestering to himself. Even with that horrible mug, Kenshin could still sense the emotions that leaked out of him. He knew the man was also here against his will. Like him, he was there to kill. Though the reason still escaped him.

Was the reason similar to Kenshin’s? Was the man here because of patriotism and the wanting to serve his fellow persons? Or maybe it was because of something else? Something more malicious? Like money? Or reputation? Or maybe just pure apathy and sadism?

Jonah was not a man who would kill someone for no reason at all. He made murdering a business, but he always killed only those that needed killing. He didn’t know if that man was any more as evil as him — maybe even less evil than those ants that like to ruin Sunday picnics. So he had no assurance if what he was doing was right. Everything he did here was a red flag against his principle. Maybe he should have never participated in this contest…

Jonah began firing his two revolvers, with the initial barrage easily being dodged by the samurai with a series of side steps. As Kenshin began moving forward, a bullet did tag him in the ribs, causing searing pain. Kenshin grunted, cursing to himself for underestimating this gunman. With full godspeed, Kenshin charged at Jonah, yelling, “Ryukansen!”

It was Jonah’s turn to underestimate his opponent’s speed. He did not see the dash or the swings of the sword. All he felt was three slashes that hit him in the side, followed by a last slash that slammed into his face like a boxer’s hook. The force of the slash threw him towards a tree, slamming his body into it, making hundreds of leaves fall like it was raining.

Jonah tried to get back up, with only one revolver remaining in his hand. All the wind from his lungs was forced out of him with that stroke. It did feel weird that he was hit with what he thought was a blunt sword. If it was a sharp sword, his body would have been sliced into steaks, ready to be cooked.

“Ryutsuisen!” screamed Kenshin as he appeared from above, preparing a downward slash unto Jonah’s head. This time, Jonah managed to move out of the way, leaving Kenshin carving out a huge chunk of the tree Jonah previously slammed into. With equal speed, Jonah aimed his gun and fired twice, hitting Kenshin both times in the thigh, hoping these would slow him down. But Kenshin just spun around, yelled “Soryusen!”, and hit Jonah in the hand, knocking away his remaining pistol.

Undeterred, Jonah drew his tomahawk and bowie knife. He rushed at Kenshin and began to dance with the samurai. The cowboy was fast, but Kenshin had no problem dodging away at the former’s small and pitiful arsenal. Every jab from the knife was easily dodged with a backstep or a sidestep. Every swing of the ax was easily blocked with Kenshin’s sakaboto or sheath. Yet, even in melee, Kenshin’s own forte, the samurai could not allow himself to underestimate his foe again.

With a graceful retraction of his arm, he brought his blade forth near his sheath. He then said, “Ryumeisen!”, and sheath his sword so loudly that it deafened Jonah.

“Gawd dammit!” Jonah cursed as his hearing felt numb and the defeaning silence hurt his head. Seeing his opponent stunned, Kenshin prepared to unleash another devastating technique. “Kuzuryusen!” Kenshin yelled.

In blind rage, Jonah threw his tomahawk in an effort to buy himself some time. The ax embedded itself into Kenshin’s shoulder, drawing blood and making the samurai scream in pain. Jonah then used the oppurtunity to retreat into the jungle, leaving Kenshin once again alone.

Kenshin managed to pull away the ax, though it tore his shoulder, leaving him with a gaping wound. Breathing and tired, Kenshin now had to finish this fight lest he ended up bleeding to death. He then ran towards the jungle in pursuit of his adversary. He searhed and searched, cutting away vegetation, almost stumbling on the rocks and slipping through the mud. However, Jonah Hex was nowhere to be found.

And before Kenshin knew it, a knife was plunged into his spine. “Dumb move, kid…” responded Jonah as he pushed the knife deeper. Gritting through the pain, Kenshin managed to wildly slash his sword into the air. Jonah could feel himself being pulled after that slash — it was as if a tornado was summoned out of nowhere, pulling him in.

But Jonah was not going to let his chance of winning slide. He punched Kenshin in the face before he could swing his sword again, finally knocking the exhausted rounin out.

Epilogue[]

God continued to be unegotiable, and the island remained a hell for the poor saps. The weather was moody, swinging from shivering wet cold to dry unforgiving heat. The forest, on the other hand, never ran out of blood-sucking bugs to feed. Yet Kenshin remained unconscious; that was until the worst headache woke him up from his slumber.

“Finally, the manslayer awakes,” greeted a white man. He wore a brown coat and tie, paired with black slacks and leather shoes. On his back was a cape and on his head was a peculiar cap with flaps on the side — a deerstalker. He sat on a log with his legs crossed, exhaling smoke from a large wooden pipe he held in his left hand. He had black hair, smooth forehead, a beak shaped like that of a hawk, and the eyes that seemed to penetrate right into the soul.

Kenshin remained in his bed. Besides the headache, he could feel the bandages and patches, tightly wrapped around his abdomen. The mere fact that he was still alive meant the wound from the gunfighter’s knife was not that fatal. Either way, Kenshin was damn lucky.

As Kenshin observed, beside the white man was another man, this time an Easterner similar to Kenshin, but different for he was more of a medium built compared to the slim samurai, wearing a white uniform similar to what the old xialon monks had. Half of his head from the forehead was hairless, almost shimmering and flawless, while the back of it had a long ponytail tied into a lock.

“Do you speak English?” the man with the funny hat said. “Your country has been in isolation for so long I’m afraid only a few learned your dialect.”

“I speak few,” Kenshin said. “I understand few…”

“That’s good enough. I am Sherlock Holmes by the way. From Great Britain. And this Chinese man with me is Wong Fei Hung.”

Hung then went to Holmes and spoke to him of something that Kenshin could not understand. There was an urgency in his face, as the groggy Kenshin noticed. And some doubt too. Probably some disgust in there as well. Holmes nodded and turned back to Kenshin, before saying, “My friend wants me to tell you that we are all friends here. And we would request that if we are to survive in this place, we have to work together.”

Before Kenshin could speak, Jonah Hex came from behind, surprising the former. He then said to Holmes, “I can vouch for this guy. He could have killed me, but he didn’t.”

“I…” Kenshin murmured, head still slightly buzzing. “I do not kill.”

“Good for you then,” Jonah said. “Ain’t the Japanese man such a Christian?”

“Settle down, yank,” Holmes said. “Listen, all of us here volunteered to represent our county in this… tournament. But we never knew that this tournament is actually some sort of game of death. Some sort of battle royale. And we all were told to kill each other.”

“Kill in the name of our countries…” commented Jonah. “Ain’t it so beautiful.”

“But we agreed not to take part in it,” Holmes continued. “We have to work together to get out of this island and watch out for that Cossack who owns this. Surviving is about thinking, not just strength.”

“Surviving is also about movin’,” Jonah replied. “And we need to move now. Y’all are free to stay here, but I’m gettin’ out of here.”

Expert’s Opinion[]

While Kenshin Himura was deemed to be the better melee and close quarters combatant, Jonah Hex’s longer range weapons, stealth, and intellect still triumphed in the end.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

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