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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1891049-Special-of-the-Day
Rated: GC · Fiction · Horror/Scary · #1891049
A trip to a run down bar contains mystery on a day gone awry. Horror Contest Entry - 987.
With every step James took, his frustration mounted.  His car had never given him trouble.  He decided to take an impromptu journey to see Kate, and his car, now treacherous, decided that it wouldn’t be involved in such an endeavor.  It transformed from a model of reliability to a useless husk that he’d have to eventually get towed from here.  Wherever he was, of course.

         Kate had taken a week long substitute teaching job two and a half hours north from their home.  The last day of her job would be tomorrow, Friday.  He thought he would have to work until Friday, but he decided to take Friday off.  So, what better way to spend his Thursday night than to surprise Kate?

         Instead of driving two and a half hours, he’d now been walking that long.  The sun was beginning to set, bringing on dusk.  He no longer bothered to look at his cell phone, as it failed him just like his car.  Before night completely engulfed him, though, he saw his first break upon the horizon.  A run down shack sat thirty yards away, but it looked like the Taj Mahal after his long trek.   

         Trying to calm his anger, James hoped there would be someone inside.  The building looked like it definitely had seen better days, but his hopes rose when he saw lights on inside.  His luck was changing finally, for the better.  Soon this day would just be something that he could look back upon and laugh.

         When he arrived, he was taken aback to find out this shack was a business.  A neon open sign flashed in the window.  Instead of knocking, he put his hand on the knob and entered the building.

         A bar greeted him.  The tiny space was filled with a mahogany bar and what, at first glance to James, looked like a full stocked bar.  They were a few tables, completely empty.  A bar man was polishing some glasses, and he didn’t even look up from his task when James entered.  There was one other patron, an old man who sat at the end of the bar.  The old man also didn’t turn to look at James, just sat focused on the half empty drink in front of him.

         James went up to the bar and leaned over to get the barkeep’s attention.

         “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the barkeep said.  “Sit down, I’ll be right with you.”

         “I don’t need service,” James said.

         “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  You’re in the wrong place if you don’t need a drink.  Sit down, I’ll be right with you.”

         Tired from his unexpected journey, James plopped on a stool and waited for the barkeep to come over.  He finally did, complete in his apron and bowtie.  It struck James as funny and overly formal to man a bar in the middle of nowhere.  The barkeep was as thin as a skeleton, and James thought the man produced creeking noises as he went over to his stool.

         “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  What can I do for you?”

         “My car broke down, and I need to phone for a tow.”

         “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  No phone here, sorry.”

         “Of course,” James muttered to himself.  “Is there a garage nearby?”

         “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Of course, but it’s in town, bout 10-15 miles north of here.”

         James wanted to slam his head into the bar.  It was that kind of day, and it wasn’t going to stop now, not in a rundown bar in the middle of nowhere.

         He turned to the man at the end of the bar.  “Do you have a car?  Can you help me?”

         The man deeply chuckled, still focused on his glass refusing to look at James.  “Everyone walks here.”

         “The hell with it,” James said, showing more frustration than he wanted to.  “You got any specials here tonight?”

         “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the barkeep said, grinning widely.  “A lad, with poor luck like yours?  I’d be happy to make up a Head Wrapper on the house.  Special of the day, just for you.”

         “A what?  You know, I don’t really care.  If it’s on the house, I’m accepting.”

         The barkeep worked quickly, his thin hands moving like a blur.  He presented a drink unlike any James had seen.  The drink was fluorescent green, with faint smoke coming off it.  The barkeep stepped back, still grinning waiting on James to drink it.

         “Bottoms up,” James said, and knocked the drink back in one swallow.

         He hadn’t even put the glass back on the bar when the room immediately became fuzzier on him.  What was in this drink?  He felt like he had just downed a fifth of whiskey in five seconds.  He held onto the bar, to make sure he didn’t tumble off his stool.

         “What…what…” he tried to compose a rational thought, but his tongue felt a million miles away. 

             The man at the end of the bar cleared his throat, “Don’t need to worry.  Don’t need to worry about anything anymore.  You’re lucky, kid.  Some of us need several drinks, not just one.”

         He slowly turned around to face James.  The side that had been shielded away from James was completely gone.  In his fuzziness, James couldn’t turn away from the half man at the end of the bar.  His empty orbital socket glared at him.  The right side of his rib cage jutted out, the color of polished ivory.  He took his right arm, also nothing more than bone at this point, and took another swig of his drink.  His left cheek gave, crashing down onto the bar with a sickening wet thump.

         James tried to scream, but his tongue fell into his lap, pulsating against his thigh like a fish out of water.

         He felt the bony hand of the barkeep from behind him, his touch sinking into his shoulder.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the barkeep whispered through clinched teeth into his ear.

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