Ancient Fangs: Birth (Book 1)

1 A Night on the Town

In a messed-up world full of the stubbornly mundane trying to be superficially extraordinary, drunk nights could be impossibly trite. At least for a truly wasted person who wanted to be more plastered than he ever was in his life.

It was the fourth bar for Jake. He had meandered along in a drunken daze along the brightly lit strip the locals called Pleasure Row. After drinking beer or whiskey at the bar, he had left the other three for purely subjective reasons.

The first was a favorite watering hole for apparently successful yuppies. The bright, young faces glowing with the aura of shallow success, the branded and fashionable attire on casual yet arrogant display, the way the guys looked like they were already sure of scoring for the night, all just made him more miserable. A few beers and he was out of the pub. The damned place even smelled of expensive perfume.

The Copa Bar was a little better though it was filled with employees out for a night of drinking. At first, he didn't mind the loud voices bragging about promotions, projects done, and inter-office fucking. But little by little, the nonsense topics started to remind him of what a loser he was.

How he got fired three days ago - being absent from work when he sent back the divorce documents his bitch of a wife sent him. It just took him an hour of not being around, a freaking thirty minutes. It was time enough for hackers to devastate the entire data system of the company. It was his shift as the Cyber Security Supervisor and the whole team got fired.

And now, office mumbo-jumbo assaulted his ears. Not that he could tune the conversations out. His years of training and traitorous instincts wouldn't allow him.

What a way to get drunk, he mused. You get reminded over and over again on what a loser you were.

All Jake wanted was a quiet night of drinking out, one last look at the world which fucked up his life. He couldn't even drink at home. The repo man had fun with it five days ago.

That humiliating episode was on the heels of receiving divorce papers from that back-stabbing slut, his wife. The bitch had the gall to file for divorce! After spending and running off with Jake's hard-earned money. With her bastard stud. She did have the brilliant survival sense of moving to another state on the other side of the continent.

Bed and board gone, the nook he had found was far better than the isolated and dangerous spots Jake had the displeasure to use when on deep missions in the rocky crags of Afghanistan and Syria. Some assholes tried to disturb him while he was sleeping, seeking to practice armed proselytizing about their lofty aim of spreading the principle of unequal distribution of wealth.

They now have to worry about dislocated bones and hematomas. Jake did seriously consider a permanent retirement for a few of the extremely unsavory ones, but regretfully reconsidered. Beatings, no matter how severe, might be overlooked by those with shiny badges, but dead bodies would.

That was for a night, because Steve found out about it. Jake had left his meager belongings with his friend. When Steve discovered the truth, the man insisted that Jake stay with him. He finally agreed, but asked to live in the garage. Steve had a great wife, and Jake didn't want to impose more than he had to.

The third bar was a mistake. A large group of jeering neurons was loudly laughing at him for barging into the place. All he wanted was a joint where the liquor was cheap and plentiful. And a quiet corner to drink himself to oblivion.

What Jake got was an LGBT singles club. After some beers and a few flirting passes directed at him, he gave up and went out. A few free drinks from admirers was a bonus. Once outside, bleary eyes looked at the name of the bar: Michelangelo. He mentally kicked himself.