horrors2

Batmanuel.The_Strang.tex

  1\chapauth{Batmanuel}
  2\chapter{The Stranger. Bavarious. }
  3
  4{\bf For mature readers only}
  5
  6
  7
  8``Whiskey.'' The stranger sat hunched over in the dark
  9corner of the bar. I would have missed him if it weren't for
 10my curiosity and his harsh cigarette tinged voice. I sat the glass
 11down, opened the bottle and poured. ``Leave the
 12bottle.''
 13
 14
 15
 16``What's troubling you, Mack?'' I asked as I pulled
 17my hand away from the bottle. He didn't look up. I tended to
 18pry, but I got the feeling that this guy wasn't someone to
 19fuck with.
 20
 21
 22
 23Minutes passed and I forgot all about this stranger. Smoke hung
 24aimlessly in the air as someone busted out a trick shot in the
 25billiards game on the other side of the dark tavern. Maybe a fight
 26would break out. The regulars hate it when new people come in with
 27that slick shit. Almost right on cue, Jimmy Dean, a hulk of a man,
 28grabbed the trick shot artist around the neck and slammed his face
 29on to the table. This collision proved hard enough to send the
 30balls rolling in every direction. In practically the same breath,
 31the guy was thrown out onto the pavement. I let this shit happen.
 32No cops. Justice prevails and everything returns to a despairing
 33level of normality.
 34
 35
 36
 37I turn my attention back to the stranger only to find him gone and
 38a fifty dollar gold coin on the bar. Under the coin was a business
 39card with one word on it: Bavarious. How I missed a man dressed in
 40all black, wearing a knee length black leather trench coat duster,
 41walk right out the door is beyond me. He had to have crossed right
 42in front of my field of vision, but I must have been too distracted
 43by the fight to notice him leave. Whatever.
 44
 45
 46
 47I couldn't sleep that night. A feeling of uneasiness stuck
 48with me after my brief encounter with the stranger. He just wanted
 49a drink, right, lots of people do that, nothing weird about them.
 50All I could think of was his name. Bavarious. What did it
 51mean?
 52
 53
 54
 55The next day, I enter the shit hole and take over for the night. I
 56expect much of the same. The regulars were already there and most
 57likely drunk. The stale air welcomed me as I pushed through the
 58wooden doors of the tavern. I felt a chill rush down my spine as I
 59looked towards the end of the bar. I didn't even make it
 60behind the bar before I heard a familiar voice that would remind me
 61of exactly why I could not sleep.
 62
 63
 64
 65``Whiskey.'' Fuck. The stranger sat in the exact same
 66spot. `Same shit, different night' I thought to myself.
 67As if he didn't remember the minute details from the night
 68before, his grizzled voice said, ``Leave the
 69bottle.''
 70
 71
 72
 73``So, are you drowning your sorrows away?'' I tended to
 74pry. He didn't look up, so I turned back to cleaning a yellow
 75beer stained mug. My mind wandered and I began to picture a lost
 76love. For some reason, I came to the conclusion that he fit the
 77motif of a heartbroken pathetic being taking everything he did
 78wrong out on himself. After this, he's probably going to the
 79nearest bridge and tease ending it all by dangling one foot over
 80the railing. Pathetic bitches never actually jump since
 81they're always back the next day drinking the same drink. If
 82not the bridge, he'll probably stare down the cold steel
 83barrel of a Beretta. Visions of my ideal womanly being played in my
 84head and I wanted to join him in downing the fuel of the unwanted.
 85The poor bastard losing the dark haired, tan skinned, beauty
 86running through a meadow on a sunny day, must be hell. I snapped
 87back to reality, shook my head and spun around towards this guy
 88with another bottle of whiskey. Almost exactly like the night
 89before, I fail to see him leave and I'm left to wonder why he
 90leaves the coin. One fucking tip.
 91
 92
 93
 94``Hey Marv, did you see that cowboy looking son of a bitch
 95leave?'' Marv, the rat-faced bug-eyed shrew of a motherfucker,
 96shook his head with a look of confusion. I didn't look too
 97much into it, as the smoke hovering in the air tends to get to my
 98head. Unlike the night before, I was able to thwart any thoughts on
 99the guy. I mean, I was never the obsessive little bitch type. I
100tended to pry, but that was part of the job title. I had to talk to
101these characters while they drank the night away.
102
103
104
105These nights always seem to run together. The same rituals repeat
106themselves. The same poor saps gather in this shit hole. The same
107rain falls outside. Jimmy and his gang exchange the same stories.
108The same game of pool is played. The same fight breaks out. The
109same song plays on the jukebox in the corner. The same `out
110of service' sign hangs on the bathroom door. The same tourist
111loses a wheel on the same pothole and drags his scared wife
112who'd much rather stay in the car inside to use our phone.
113The same poor fools come and go like fucking clockwork. I
114can't complain.
115
116
117
118Every night for the past week, the Stranger sat in the same stool
119under the same shadow, said the same four words, drank the same
120whiskey, left the same goddamn coin and vanished the same way. If
121it weren't for the same bad vibes that surrounded him, I
122would not have even noticed him.
123
124
125
126I still have trouble sleeping at night. It's not that I
127don't want to sleep; it's just that I can't. I
128stopped trying. Techniques that bobble heads preach up and down to
129levels of total effectiveness fail. Pills don't work, lying
130in bed passively watching infomercial after infomercial have the
131effects of making me wonder what exactly will blend. When I am able
132to close my eyes, my mind begins to play a constant slide show of
133the worst things imaginable. Decapitations. Bodies buried in
134shallow graves. Houses burning. Screams fill my ears and I awake in
135a cold sweat. I can't breathe. These problems began the first
136night the stranger came into my dive.
137
138
139
140I find myself feeling nothing but disdain when I gaze upon my
141tattered reflection in the mirror. The unshaven man staring back is
142not me. Bloodshot eyes sunken deep into hollow cheeks. I lift my
143hand up and it shakes as if my blood created vibrations as it moved
144through my protruding veins. The mirror not only shows a vacant
145waste of a man, but also serves as a vessel for vengeful shadows
146that dance around in the dimness created by the talking heads on
147their soapboxes of lies. I look again at my shaking hand to find it
148in a tightly clenched fist flying towards the primitive zombie in
149the glass imprisonment. The glass shatters into a sea of red.
150
151
152
153``Whiskey.'' He's there. Right fucking there. No
154one knows where he comes from. No one even bothers to notice this
155motherfucker. ``Leave the bottle.''
156
157
158
159``You know, you've been coming in here for a while now
160and it's the same four fucking words.'' I tended to pry,
161but it has gotten to the point where this dude needs a crowbar
162upside the head! I wanted answers or just a simple response.
163``And man, you don't need to leave a fucking gold coin
164lying there. That's too much goddamn money.''
165
166
167
168As always, he finished off the bottle and left. As always, a
169dirtied gold coin was on the counter. It was right then that I came
170up with the worst idea of my life. Worse than moving out to this
171fucking desolate place. This dumbass decision is probably my only
172regret. Given the circumstances, this was a pretty sound idea and
173very simple in execution. I called on Jimmy Dean and his gang to
174rough the stranger up a bit. Easy as that. Not to really hurt him,
175but to serve as an initiation of sorts.
176
177
178
179Jimmy Dean was the type of brute that would fit in prison,
180professional wrestling or driving a truck for a repossession
181company. The brute, with his shoulder length hair, beard, sharply
182clad in leather and denim, carried himself with a high enough level
183of untapped fury that assured me that a show was just on the
184horizon. His gang lacked the size, and I'd say intelligence,
185but Jimmy aint exactly a member of Mensa. It was clear that the
1866'6'' tall Jimmy was the leader of the group. These
187hours of darkness were going to be something to remember.
188
189
190
191``Whiskey.'' Like clockwork. I couldn't help but
192crack a smile knowing that this dude was about to get fucked up.
193``Leave the bottle.''
194
195
196
197The jukebox in the corner began playing ``Here Comes the
198Sun.'' Jimmy Dean and his cronies approached the stran\-ger.
199Unpromisingly, the green pained lights shuttered as the air became
200stale. Marv sat in the stool to the left of the stranger, the other
201guy behind him and Jimmy stood to his right. ``Who the fuck
202are you?'' Jimmy asked in a slow but forceful tone as he
203reached for the bottle. He picked it up, unscrewed the cap and took
204a swig. He set the bottle down in a violent enough motion to cause
205the liquid to splash on the bar. The stranger didn't flinch.
206Hands still clasped around the glass, eyes still looking down.
207``This isn't the a film noir. Hey asshole, I'm
208talking to you!''
209
210
211
212Jimmy reached out for the strangers collar. The temperature in the
213room rose, but I felt cold enough to see my breath. My spine felt
214severed as I fell back towards the wall behind me. Jimmy now had a
215fistful of shirt and was close to unleashing a mallet of a fist on
216this guy, when, in the blink of an eye, it was all over. The
217stranger threw a swift enough boot to Jimmy's kneecap that
218created a sound comparable to a thunderclap. As Jimmy doubled over
219in immense pain, the stranger swung his hand around grabbing the
220side of Jimmy's head, and, in a fluid motion, flung it down
221towards the bar. The hard wood surface of the bar gave way to the
222man's fucking head! The wood splintered around the hole that
223was now host to a man's head. A second later, the man
224standing behind the stranger took flight towards the pool tables,
225slammed into the wall and became one with a pool cue. Marv, the
226third man, suffered a brutal shot to the throat that sent blood
227flying out of his mouth. He collapsed to the floor clutching his
228sunken windpipe and gasping for air. I couldn't move.
229
230
231
232The stranger turned his gaze to me. His eyes created black holes
233amongst the leathery, sandblasted, sun damaged face. His black hair
234dangled in strands from under his black hat. He reached up, stroked
235the stubble on his chin and sighed. After surveying the
236destruction, he non-chalantly picked up his glass, downed it,
237reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. His eyes never moved
238from mine, and then a moment of clarity came upon me. The
239uneasiness. I froze. I could see flames in the blackness. He stared
240a hole directly through my soul. The carnage still existed among an
241eerie peacefulness. He flipped the coin in the air, caught it with
242his right hand, smiled and placed it on the counter. He then tipped
243his hat and left. I remember seeing lights. 
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