Necrophobia: The Bartender 1941

Part 3

My face morphed into confusion then conflicting emotions hit me at once. I laughed. "I can't leave this place. I just got here. Besides, I ain't leaving because of some fabled goon who is 'responsible' for the disappearance of dozens."

"Why? Just because you didn't believe in that doesn't mean your life isn't in danger," he barked.

Disbelief. My mind was in utter disbelief, more disappointed if anything. In a state of pure solemnity, I spoke my opinion. "I dictate my own life, Nile. If there is a serious hypothesis for any of the happenings, here's what I think. The town is to blame for its irresponsibility in further investigating the cases. They then started using jaded fairytales to excuse their poor, sob-ass authorities that couldn't find those people and capture the real suspects."

I continued, "And if you are worried about me, then how about yourself? Why not move out of the village if you knew something was out to get people?"

This time, Nile had it. He heaved a groan, "Fine. Do you want an answer? I will give it to you: my brother went into that damn building since he sniffed up some scent by the bar. He vanished after a week into madness; he never came back. "

"I'm only here because I'm certain he's still alive. I'm certain the bar has something to do with it." My eyes widened at his confession. It explained a lot: his reaction and possessive attitude kept me away. Yet despite hearing his side of the story, I recovered from my sympathy and stated my thoughts.

"My condolences, but I nonetheless stand with my argument. Your brother's disappearance might not be related to the bar," I explained densely. "That's a make-believe story; no ghosts or undead to dismiss or blame. You're being delusional. If he's missing for so long, and if that 'thing' is real, he might have died, Nile. He is dead."

My words that night were something I regretted for a long time.

Nile left the apartment after our argument. He drove off into the woods, and God knows where he was heading to. I didn't bother to call. It was best to assume my response gave him a difficult time. I would have liked him to adjust to his feelings before returning. So I loitered for a day.

Two days.

Three.

Five.

I waited for a week; he never came back. The weight of guilt slowly drove me mad until I filed for a missing person's report. However, even that wasn't enough to soothe me. Phone lines weren't reaching him either. As I waited, something in my mind screamed danger, that something wasn't right. I disputed as much as I considered what Nile said; the authorities were ass at their jobs, pretty much-lounging baboons in uniforms at most. If someone were to look for him immediately, it would have been me.

I had already scouted the town, and to my surprise, one saw him either. My best guess would have been to go searching in the forest. The road down the Hudson River grew bumpier and more forgotten as we passed more oaks and rocks. It was so close to winter that the ground was already frozen. The radio jammed some light jazz music, yet my fingers couldn't stop drumming the steering wheel out of stress. My gazes hovered towards the trees, hoping to find my friend Nile within them; still, no sign of him.

Soon it was already afternoon, and I couldn't look further. Circling the area, I purposely left the best for last. Nile specifically told me not to go near that place again. However, desperate situations call for desperate measures. I didn't want to lose him. Driving by the tight corner, I catch a glimpse of silver gray. As I drew closer, I held my breath and let go when I noticed it was a car.

It was Nile's car.

The car was there, yet no person was in sight; this wasn't like him. Confusion and concern spiked my mind. I traveled further to look for him. There's no way a person could roam this far by foot if it's going back to the town unless there was another destination they could have gone to. My breath hitched, stopping in my tracks as I contemplated my anxiety. The bar was near.