August 14, 2011

Demon Bar

[...Posted by Ted H]

Well I've been without internets for a while so I guess we finally missed an upd-What? One of the authors actually posted something last week? HOLY FUCKING SHIT! That means we havent missed a week yet. Mad props to Will for actually remembering to show up! As you can see bud, I havent changed the locks...yet...

Anyway, Will led off the month in case youre confused,. Not taking this as a sign that things will be any different from here on out though, Im gonna throw up an update now and buckle up for the next 30 weeks cuz I doubt lightning'll strike twice.

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[Demon Bar]

He walked right into the bar and was slightly taken aback. It was dimly lit but the lack of light was made up for by noise; loud music playing and people talking. There were lots of people in here. “Can I take them all?” he thought as he walked to the closest table. A couple of large men were sitting by talking about whatever the hell it is large men talk about while grasping their giant glasses of beer. The specifics of their conversation were lost to the static of the background noises and his own impatience to get started.

D reached over and grabbed one of the men’s beer glasses. The man immediately stood up and demanded his drink back before things got violent. He had no intentions on drinking, but the only way he could start tonight is if someone else initiated things. It’s not a rule or anything, but tonight he felt like changing things up a bit, perhaps justify a little murder, if only a fraction of the murdering.

He decided to give the mans drink back in the fashion of smashing the glass over his head. The glass didn’t break, it was too strong, but its contents did spill all over the man. The man didn’t waste any time in rearing back and cracking D in the jaw with his fist. He almost took to the air but ended up just toppling over into a wall. Laughter erupted as the man cracked his knuckles, indicating he wasn’t finished yet.

D’s jaw was definitely hurt. A fracture or maybe a tooth chipped, either way blood was coming out the corner of his mouth. Beautiful. He returned to his feet as the man approached, now followed by his friend from the table. He reached to his back and pulled out his sword. Slightly bent at places and a handle worn to the point where he had to wrap it in tape, it was still as sharp as the day it was made, perhaps even sharper. The little light in the bar reflected off the weapon and both men hesitated for only a moment before continuing their approach; they clearly thought one sword couldn’t stop two burly men.

They hesitated, he wouldn’t. In a quick, fluid motion he ducked below the first man, his sword trailing behind him as he came up in front of the other man and swung his sword upward, striking up in the middle of the face. Not a deep slash, but enough for the man to raise his hands to his face and scream.

D then shifted around the man and faced the friend as he reached for his other sword strapped horizontally on his belt. As he freed it, he continued the motion around him an right across the friends stomach. The three just stood there for a moment; the men clutching their wounds and D in between them with one arm in the air and the other out to his right, clutching a sword in each hand.

It was time to finish this. D dropped his right arm and shifted his hold on the sword and drove it through the back of the first man while he brought his other arm back around, straightened it up and drove it through the second mans chest. He then withdrew both swords and let both men fall dying to the ground.

The rest of the bar, finally realizing what just happened, started to panic as people broke for the front door. D was still closer to that door than anyone and moved into the path of people. He knew some might slip passed him, but the majority of them would meet one of his blades. He started slashing at drunks and whores as blood flew in all directions. The more that fell, the more difficult it would be to navigate to the exit, the easier it would be for D to kill them.

“Such a fire hazard,” D said when he realized that there was no other exit to the bar. The bartender had remained behind the bar. D saw the fear in his eye, saw that he had no escape. Too bad. All in all D could tell that only two people had managed to slip passed and out into the night. He’s done worse, and it would feel fitting if he left three people surviving, but a certain look of determination in the bartender’s eyes swayed D from any thought of mercy. Something about that man seemed to suggest that fighting him would be more worthwhile than even the man who punched him.

“You wish to die?” D said aloud, more of a statement than a question, as he started running for the bar. He could easily jump it, but there was something in the air that suggested an ulterior motive. No matter, D took to the air, both swords over his head as he prepared to swing down on the poor sap when he felt himself flying backwards. He collapsed backwards onto a table which tipped and sent him toppling down onto the ground. He dropped one of his swords and he found it difficult to even sit up.

“What the fuck?” he screamed as he tasted the air and realized what happened. Burning. The bartender fired a weapon. The intense pain in his stomach painted a clear enough picture as to where the bartender fired and the size of the wound and the mortal damage to his intestines suggested that as clich├ęd as it was, the bartender was indeed packing a shotgun behind that bar.

The bartender cocked his weapon and circled around the bar. “What a faggot, cheating like that,” D said while spewing up blood. “At least you could see my swords when I enter-” he cut himself off as he forced his body to roll over. He couldn’t find his other sword, no matter.

The bartender was approaching for apparently what was suppose to be the kill shot. D stood up and used a chair to steady himself for a moment, before tossing it at the bartender. The chair smacked into his arm as he tried to dodge. When he went to aim again, D rushed into him and elbowed the shotgun away. “Did you really think that would stop me?” he asked as he stuck his sword through the bartender’s throat and sliced.

“What a mess,” D said as he surveyed his stomach, which was bleeding everywhere. “Definitely gonna need a new shirt,” he said as he sheathed his one sword and began searching for the other. “Where the fuck did that thing go?” he asked as he glanced and saw a young woman clutching it nearby an overturned table. “What have we here?” D asked as he casually walked over.

“Stay back,” the woman said as she held the sword out. “You probably would’ve gone unnoticed had you not picked that up,” D said as he now stood over the woman. She didn’t know what to do and D felt like fucking with her. “Go ahead, kill me,” he said with a smile “Strike me down and save countless lives. BE THE HERO OF THIS NIGHT!” He could barely hold back the will to laugh when suddenly the woman screamed and stabbed him through the chest. D clutched at the hilt which was now right under his chin as he fell backwards onto the ground.

The woman let out a sigh as she sidestepped D’s body and started for the door. D then reached and grabbed her ankle, causing her to scream and fall over. D didn’t hold back any laughs as he stood up and pulled his sword out of himself. “You really thought that would kill me, didn’t cha?” he asked as he prepared to kill the woman but stopped himself.

“I like you,” he said as he put his sword back in its sheath. “I’ll let you live.” The woman almost couldn’t comprehend what D just said. “What?” she finally said. “Yeah,” D said “You can go home now. Though in return, I might have to crash with you one night, you know, as a return favor for sparing you.” D then turned around and sprinted out the door. The police were coming.

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