I Sing Of Chaos And Eternal Night

1200

Location: Screeching Owl Saloon, La Isla de Arena, Inner Reaches.

Date: Sometime in the near future.

Filthy.

That is the word that repeats on an endless loop as I clean the grayish water spots off the shot glasses. There are rows and rows of them, neatly stacked against the bar counter. But whoever had previously cleaned these had done a poor job. We couldn't serve whiskey to the guests out of these.

4. 5. 6.

I count as I make my way down the row, wiping each glass until it twinkles under the glow of the candlelights. I make it as far as fifty before I hear the wooden doors swing open with a creak. I toss the rag under the counter, and with a quick pat against my loose curls, I ensure the purple feather is secure.

"Hi, honey! Welcome to the Screeching Owl Saloon," Charlotte purrs from beside the doorway. "What can I do for you today?"

I fail to hear the answer. Instead, heavy footsteps squeak across the floorboards towards the bar. I lean myself against the bar, propping up my chin in one hand. "Want something to wet your whistle? You can ask me or ol' Fred right here." I jerk my gloved hand towards the unsmiling man who has just appeared behind me. "Unlike him, I'll serve it with a smile."

"Now that's a sight I could get used to." The guest chuckles. He is heavy-set and tall- six feet and two hundred and fifty pounds to be exact. This causes the stool to creak from under him as he takes a seat. "I'll take a bourbon on the rocks, Darlin.'"

As promised, I pour him a glass with a smile plastered on my face. "Here you go, honey!" I slide it towards him, and he catches it with his hand.

"Wow, what was that? Three seconds?" He lifts the glass to his mouth and takes a sip. "You're faster than any bartender I've ever seen."

"Just takes years and years of practice." I wink. "Of course, it's not the only thing I'm good at." I lower my tone to a whisper, causing him to choke on his drink. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have other guests to attend to." I leave him after seeing more guests beginning to trickle inside.

My eyes scan over the crowd before landing on the pair of guests standing in front of the doors. They are both males, as most of the guests are. But one is far older than the other. His face is covered in wrinkles, and his hair is gray and thinning.

"It hasn't changed at all." He squints his eyes as he looks around. "It's exactly as I remember."

His companion, who looks no older than a teenager, gapes at the sight in front of him- his brown eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. "Dad, this is incredible! Why haven't we come sooner?"

They're blocking the doors.

Get them away from the doors.

"Are you two gentlemen lost?" I step forward upon command. "Or is this just your first time?" I continue smiling.

The older guest's eyes suddenly widen as he scans me from head to toe. "Julia?"

"So you have been here before?" I raise my eyebrow teasingly.

"Yes!" His eyes rake over my black dress again. "But I don't understand... What's happened to you? Why—Why are you like this?!" He points to my dress with a hiss.

I blink. "Pardon me, sir. But I do not know what you mean."

"Julia," he says my name again, but in a much softer tone. "Do you know who I am?"

I shake my head. "I apologize, sir, but I don't. However..." I take another step closer to him and place my hand over his chest, my fingers creeping up towards his shoulder. "I could."

He immediately takes a step back, almost knocking another guest over. "Julia! It's me! Peter!" The man points to himself. "I know I probably don't look like the young man you met years ago, but it's me!"

The other guests are staring at us now. Even the cheery piano tune that had been floating through the air has come to an abrupt stop.

De-escalate situation.

"Sir," I repeat. "We have many guests here. It would be impossible to remember each one."

"Dammit, Julia" He grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me closer to him until our faces are only inches apart.

"Dad." The younger guest pulls his father back, and his grip is instantly released off me. "What's going on? Do you know this woman?"

"I did... once," the older man sighs.

"Now, is there anything I can do for you two gentlemen?" I ask, putting on another large smile.

But before either of them can answer, the doors swing open, and an older woman storms forward. She is heading straight for us.

"Peter, I've been looking for you all over this place!" She glares at the older man. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I'm sorry, dear. Matthew wanted to see the saloon, and I couldn't just tell him no..." The man's words become nothing but static as I stare at the scowling woman. From behind, another young man enters and comes to her side, but he is just an indistinguishable shape in front of me. My eyes are fixed only on the woman. She is all I can see.

She turns to me, and our eyes meet. Her hazel ones burn into my brown ones, just as they had once before.

Attack.

Before I can process this command, my hand shoots out and strikes her across the face. Somewhere in the saloon, a loud scream erupts.

But I ignore it. My attention is on the woman sprawled across the floor. She is clutching her crooked nose. Some sort of red liquid is seeping out of it and onto her fingers.

I raise my hand to my face and turn it over. My eyes lock on the stained silken glove for a moment. It is the same color. Red.

Filthy.

I pause, examining it. Then suddenly it is gone as everything around me goes dark.