Mummy (The Maze Runner X Physco)

Prologue Vince

I sat, swirling the pissy brown liquid around the interior rim of the glass. Cheap whiskey, I thought to myself, Before I looked down to the small pile of change besides my glass, realizing I wasn't going to get anything better tonight. I took yet another sip letting it burn the back of my throat with its rough static. I returned the glass to its seat on the bar slightly moving one side up and down letting it clink on the bar's wooden glaze, giving me a momentary break from this awful jukebox tune. Regrettably, I downed the rest leaving only the stale aged smell. I held my glass up,

"Another" I slurred, gesturing to the bartender as he walked past trying to avoid my eye, cleaning another glass in his hands as almost a distraction for himself, his eyes squarely on the dishrag. "Another," I said louder with slightly more authority.

"Sure," He sighed, putting the glass down on the bar with a little more force than was likely necessary, "Same again?" he huffed

I grunted in agreement with his suggestion, so he took the cheapest whiskey bottle from the wall behind him, filling my glass to just below the rim and nothing more.

"Thanks," I said reaching to the pocket of my battered grey jacket until my hand met the well-worn leather of my wallet, Gripping it and pulling it out unflipping it on the well-used fold, the glint of my badge in the bars dingey light, The bartender seemed to stop a moment noticing the glisten and its origin from my wallet.

"You must be that new Officer?" he began, "Mikey told me about you, Andrew right?"

"Vince" I corrected my voice slurring slightly as I handed him the faded bills from my wallet. 

"The Crook Cop" 

"I'm a cop yeah" I answered, "And you're Mikey's new drink jockey?" I smile curling across my lips, He huffed walking to the other end of the bar, immediately I gave up on the hope of my change.

I caught the glint of my badge in my eye again, but as I looked to fold it away I caught the smiling faces that filled my heart with a heat that the whiskey never could, Even if I had tried...

Mary, I looked up at the clock. She'd have gone to bed by now tired of waiting, The children had long since been put to sleep all of them likely put up a fight as they no doubt wanted to see me home, but she'd force the four upstairs with threats of the hairbrush on the backs of their legs... shit I'd be scared too. I smirked to myself at the image of it all in my head, before taking another sip of that awful crap the bartender tried to poison me with. Sometimes I wish I'd not been such a mother fucker. She'd expected me home after work, but there was no goddamn way in hell I was heading home today without a drink, or four... Maybe more, I can't remember anymore, who's counting anyway? Not that dick head anyways. I glared at the bartender across the way, and he doesn't even acknowledge me serving some asshole at that end of the bar.

There was a time I would go to work without a drink, times a day at work would be the highlight of my day. But this shit isn't as simple as you'd think, It's not right and wrong. Not even black and white, this job, this life, this world is nothing but grey.

I downed the rest of that god awful rat poison, and looked over at the bartender... What's an ex-con got to do to get some god damn fucking good whiskey nowadays.