H A U N T E D

e p i l o g u e

e p i l o g u e

⚠️ mentions of SA & suicide

It is three in the morning - some mortals call this the witching hour, when things that go bump at night, causes chaos. The pub is dark with long shadows that hide monsters from the mortals, unless one of these creatures come forward and claim the soul whose destiny has been laced with ours from the time of their birth. What a lonely journey it must be, to be in another's arms and meeting Death with such tragedy.

Alex Kim sits at the end of the bar, throwing back another glass of whiskey that has long stopped burning. These days, he stays out and closes down most bars - no one waits for him at home any more. Nicole is the only one who calls him, and even then, her voice is strained and holds back tears. It is hard to believe in one's innocence when guilt knocks on your door like a thief at night. The bartender informs Alex that it's time to go home now, he needs to lock up for the night. Even the bartender, who has heard drunken murder confessions, struggles to hide his grimace when speaking to Alex. The man who orphaned a girl he had forcefully sired, and allowed her to be ostracised until her death three years ago, when she gave up her life for another. Even though the bartender hopes that maybe this time, Alex Kim might have drank too much, he knows it is wishful thinking.

Tomorrow, once the sun sets, Alex will sit here again, emptying whiskey bottles.

The bartender goes around to the back to lock up and cash in the money they made today. Hopefully, when he comes back, Alex Kim has staggered home.

Alex Kim bends over the counter, struggling to stand on two feet. His knees threaten to buckle under him, but his fingers strain against the counter for support. He looks older than his fifty years of age, he knows it. His golden hair has long since grayed, and the wrinkles on his face show that time moves faster when you constantly have to look over your shoulder. The sound of leaves rustling in the late summer night catches his stupor attention, and he could've sworn he heard footsteps closing in on him. The older man's murky eyes search outside in the yellow light of the streets in Homer, a town that turnt against him. Once he was ejected from the council, and ostracized the way he allowed Jenna to be excluded, he wanted to spit at them. They didn't see the tight shirts and shirt dresses she wore, or the way she batted her eyes at him.

He tried to be nice about it, he gave her amazing grades, took her to the movies, fed her on wild nights out. She owed it to him, and when she didn't want to pay up, he took what was his.

A noise closer this time, makes him look up, struggling to focus on one figure that has appeared in the closed entrance of the pub. For a moment, he squints his eyes together tightly, trying to make away with the delusions, before reopening them. In the second it took him, the figure seems to have grown in size, and his heart races at the sight. The yellow street lights from outside throws a silhouette over the cloaked figure, hiding their identity. Alex squints and tries to move forward, but the figure takes one threatening step forward. The man staggers back, grabbing his empty beer bottle to use as a weapon.

"Who-who are you?", he demands in a slurred outcry. I raise my hands to lift the hood from my head, revealing myself as shadows illuminates my face. Alex Kim squints one last time, before he finally realizes who it is with a strangled gasp. The beer bottle slips from his hands, shattering against the tiled floors. I would be scared too, when the Grim Reaper comes to collect a long-overdue debt. Like I said, Death is a lonely journey. Hopefully, it'll be painful too, with suffering that makes you wish Death would have accompanied you sooner.

"N-No!", he yells out, walking backwards. The glass splinters sounds like gravel underneath his feet. The air smells foul with the alcohol that stains his breath, and the distasteful sound of his heartbeat makes me grimace.