Today is the beginning of a three part short story by Immoratal Alexander.
A man allowing himself to go down a hazardous path, meets some mysterious strangers that make his Saturday night into one he’ll never forget.
** Warning: Adult language and situations occur in this story**
Let’s enjoy the journey together, shall we? 🙂
It’s a and crisp autumn night in the city. Leaves are falling leaving the streets a slowly rotting organic mess. The night is crisp but the wind bellows like the devil himself come to collect the whole lot of us.
“We have become vain and selfish creatures with all the compassion of a pack of scorpions.” That’s what the bushy browed fellow sitting to my left said to me before slapping me on my back, causing me to spit my beer all over the bartender. The bartender wiped the beer off of his shirt with a pile of napkins and gave me the death glare.
The bartender looked like he was about to punch my lights out when the bushy browed man gave out a thunderous laugh, put his arm around me, and told me “we’re all going to have to give the Devil his due.”
His breath nearly knocked me off my barstool. I freed myself from his death grip and scanned my environment. This place was full to the brim with halfwits and losers. It was your typical rustic joint with little knick knacks hanging off of every post. In the back of the room two men were playing pool and having a smoke.
I looked back at the bartender who seemed more interested in bashing my face in than the two smoking companions in the back of the bar. As beer dripped off of my chin I suddenly noticed that the bushy browed man had a very strange odor about him that made my eyes water and my nostrils burn. I winced, he laughed. It wasn’t cigarettes or the booze that he had been so hurriedly guzzling, but something much stranger. A pungent kind of odor like rotting eggs left out in the blistering sun.
I finished my beer, slapped a few bills on the counter, and slipped off of my barstool. As I was putting on my brown leather jacket the bushy browed man grabbed me by the collar and shouted “Hey, you haven’t got much time left, you better give the Devil his due.” He laughed heartily.
I nearly threw up from the smell of his stinking hot breath.
I swallowed hard trying to force my supper back down. As he loosed me from his grip I forced out a small smile trying not to breath in too deeply. “Whatever you say buddy” I said to the bushy browed man.
He gave me a strange look of perplexion. I waved him off, and made my way toward the door.
As I exited into the night air the wind smacked me in the face with a biting chill. Just as my foot touched the sidewalk a leaf flying at high velocity smacked me in the face and remained there. The biting wind kept it pinned in place. I gave a little grin from under the maple leaf, yeah fuck you too mother nature I thought to myself before peeling the wet and rotting thing from my face.
I lost my job, wife left me, and now here I am, drinking with a bunch of stinking boozers.
Bars are always a sad mix of alcohol, cigarettes, urine, and loneliness. Things that I am now sadly very well acquainted with.
I pulled a zippo lighter out of my left pants pocket. The glint of the metal focused my attention for a brief moment. “She’s better off without me anyway” I thought to myself.
I grabbed a loose cigarette from my right shirt pocket and put it to my lips. I raised my brows as a idea popped into my head causing me to reach deep into the right pocket of my corduroy pants and feel around for some loose change.
Giant ball of lint, a little bit of dirt, then bingo.
I pulled a quarter from my well worn pocket and felt its smooth and bumpy surface between my thumb and forefinger before opening my hand and stared at George’s grungy old face.
“What do think we should do first old man” I asked George Washington.
He said nothing of course. He just kept staring straight forward ignoring my question. Prick I thought to myself.
I flicked open my lighter with my left hand, and ignited the flame. I raised it up to my left eye and held it there for a moment before lighting my cigarette. I took in a long hard drag, and without looking I flipped the coin into the air. If it landed on heads I’d go home to my dirty efficiency apartment and sleep it off, tails and I’d keep walking down the street to continue the nights depravity.
I opened my eyes and looked up.
Oddly the coin was still in the air. It continued to spin without falling for what seemed like an eternity.
The spinning kept my gaze transfixed on the coin as the glint of street light reflected on each side of its surface. In the blink of an eye a man dressed in all black appeared from the shadows snatching the coin right out of the air. “Nice night” he said in a gruff yet inviting voice. He took me by surprise so I took a step back and examined him more closely.
The flame of my still lit zippo shuttered from his quick movement as did I. He was an older gentleman who appeared to be around 65 years of age. His hair was jet black with the exception of a few white streaks that were partially covered by a dark grey fedora. He was very well dressed with a button up shirt, and a black silk tie. The man in black stared into my eyes and gave me a malevolent grin.
Just then another man dressed in all white appeared beneath a blinding street light and stepped towards me blowing out my lighters flame.
“Crisp and brutally windy isn’t it” said the man in white. He was soft spoken and wore a off white fedora and a simple silver ring that caught my attention. His hair was as white as freshly fallen snow except for a few black streaks, and his posture was slightly bent showing some of his frailty. He seemed about the same age as the other man but far less threatening.
The man in black opened his hand to reveal the quarter tails side up. He presented it to me and asked “Looking for a little excitement are you?”.
“Maybe he just needs a little pick me up” said the man in white.
I just stood there with a weird look on my face at both propositions. I probably looked constipated. It was a mix of the booze and the two strange men staring at me that left me feeling a little queer.
“Excuse me men” I said as I walked between them brushing my hands on their shoulders and making my way past. “I better be getting home, don’t want to keep the misses waiting” I said.
“What misses?” asked the man in black.
I stopped dead in my tracks. After a moment I turned slowly back towards the two men scraping the soles of my shoes on the pavement. I stared at the man in black perplexed and a little frightened. How could he have known?
“Leave him alone, he’s been through a lot you know” said the man in white.
With a quick spin I turned back away and started to sprint down the block. My shoes clapping loudly and so did my heart as I ran into the night. “Sorry fellas, but I gotta go” I shouted as I ran waiving my right hand in the air.
I could barely see anything in front of me as this part of the city wasn’t very well lit. Occasionally I looked to see if I was being pursued. After a couple of blocks I stopped and looked back.
Under the one working street light I could make out the two men just standing there. They didn’t move, or talk amongst themselves. They just… stood there and… stared. I was at least two blocks away and they were still just standing there, staring.
“What a couple of creepy fucks” I thought to myself. I caught my breath, and started to walk further into the night.
To be continued…. Next week Friday