Sianna and the Soulweaver

Chapter 1 - The Dusting

The man wore all black, his eyes shielded behind a pair of sunglasses although the sun had long set.

Glancing around the dimly-lit bar, I watch as the flickering neon signs cast dancing shadows on the polished wooden surfaces. The faint strains of some oldies tune plays like a soundtrack to a horror film, the discordant and forlorn notes doing little to comfort me. Tension coils in my stomach but I convince myself that I'm overreacting, anxious from fighting with my boyfriend and a long day at work. I settle into my seat and try to relax, leaning my elbows on the counter and snacking on some peanuts.

That is, until he walks in.

Goosebumps attack my flesh, the sight of him sending chills down my spine. His presence brings about a foreboding feeling that I am unable to shake, sinking into my bones and burrowing straight through to my soul. His head turns just for a second in my direction as he snags a seat at one of the many empty bar stools, shaking his head no when the bartender asks if he'd like to order anything. Taking advantage of his attention, I signal to the server myself and order a cosmopolitan, craving something sweet but strong. Tearing idly at the paper napkin he sets in front of me, I give him a half-hearted smile when he walks away to make my drink. Simultaneously ignoring the frequent glances from the man to my left, I finish ripping up most of the napkin in an attempt to look unbothered and to keep my hands busy. Thankfully the bartender returns fairly quickly due to the slow environment, especially being only 10pm on a Thursday night. By the sticker on his name tag I can see that his name is Ronaldo, reminding me of my pet Basset Hound named after Ronald Weasley.

Speaking of Ron, I need to text Annie and remind her to feed him dinner, actually.

Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I sip at my cosmo and send her a quick message, reminding her where the spare key is and making sure the text delivers before shoving my phone back into my jeans. A movement to my left catches my eye, although I continue staring at my drink indifferently in the hope that he'll just leave me alone. Originally there had been a space between us but the stranger has moved, closing the gap and sitting on the stool right next to me. I cringe, so not in the mood to be potentially hit on right now, especially after dealing with James' bullshit last night. I continue feeling his stare but just sip my cosmo and pretend that he isn't there, letting the warmth from the alcohol wash away my nerves. Signaling to Ronaldo for another round, I down the last few drops and wipe my mouth off on the remainder of my napkin.

"Put her drinks on my tab." The man beside me speaks up, the words making me roll my eyes and my rejection immediate.

"Thank you, but I'll pay for my own drinks." Ronaldo smirks at my response and gives me a subtle wink, placing the martini glass daintily in front of me and sauntering off. The man is quiet and at first doesn't move an inch from his place on the stool, continuing to look in my direction but remaining silent. My patience with him starts to wear thin, the goosebumps I felt earlier nearly turning into full-blown hives.

What does this dude want? Sheesh, take a hint.

Finally I return his gaze, scrutinizing him with what I hope is a deadly expression. "May I help you with something?"

"Yes." He answers simply, not a hint of humor in his voice.

I sigh, my exasperation obvious at this point. "And that would be...?"

The man lowers his sunglasses, the pitch-black color of his irises appearing almost unnatural. The moment our eyes connect, however, the tension between us goes from unsettling to downright sinister. A dark and evil embodiment of emotions suddenly wrack through my body, clouding my senses and fogging my brain. It feels as if each and every one of my nerve endings has been dipped in sludge, a concrete casing entrapping my free will. The man parts his lips as if to speak―but no intelligible words come out. Instead, to both my horror and my amazement, a shimmer of some sort of dusting seems to exude from his mouth through the air.