Untitled #2: Fiction

I sure do love some writing prompts. I might have to go looking for more soon, though.

Write about a guy who walks into a bar on a dark and stormy night.

[Side note #1: Cliches abound!]

[Side note #2: Another not-related-to-blogging-101!]

The door creaked open on that dark and blustery night back in March and on cue, every head turned to watch the stranger walk into the dingy bar. He was clutching his drab trench coat tightly around him as rain washed over him.

“Close the fucking door,” someone from the back yelled out.

The man nodded and made his way to the bar. He didn’t glance at the other regulars in the room but they all watched him with avid fascination. No one came into the bar unless you lived in the area, which really didn’t amount to a whole lot of people.

“What are you having,” I asked, warily eyeing the stranger. He wore a hat that hid his face as he fumbled for his wallet.

“Whiskey. Neat,” was all he said, his voice was scratchy rough. Goosebumps prickled my skin as I heard his voice, but I thought nothing of it as another order was shouted down the line.

“Got it,” I yelled back. I thought nothing more about the mysterious stranger as I poured the orders. The evening went by swiftly as I poured drink after drink. Outside, the storm only raged on and on as the front moved over us. Several flashes of lightning illuminated the trees outside, the shadows looking like looming creatures making their way slowly towards the bar. The lights flickered inside, as the cable blinked off throwing the tv into a loud and snowy mess. I sighed and went to rummage for the remote control.

“Don’t bother,” said the stranger as he looked up from his seat, his bright blue eyes peering into mine. “It’s too late. They’ve found us,” he said.

“What,” I asked, suddenly annoyed at the stranger. The lightning drew closer and as I looked out the windows, the shadows only drew closer.

“You might want to get down, Love,” the stranger said, pulling something out of his coat.

I didn’t have time to get ask what he was fucking on when all hell broke loose. And I do mean hell. I couldn’t even begin to tell you the kinds of creatures that seem to come out of nowhere. People that I thought I knew were suddenly transformed into ghastly beings. Smoke and fire erupted from the shaking ground as more thunder and lightning came down from the sky. Creatures came out from the storm outside and there I was cowering behind the stranger in the trench coat while I shouted something in a language that had to be older than time itself.

And then as suddenly as it started.

It stopped.

“Well,” the stranger said.

I could only gape.

“That wasn’t what I was expecting, Love.”

[Side note #3: And all of a sudden it became John Constantine fanfic. Who knew? Not me.]

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