𝕕𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤

22. Vampires,

**COD Ghost story. Currently in love with him so... Sorry in advance. This is a very long story. Do not read if you don't want a silly story about a fictional video game character and a vampire (even tho there's not much vampiring)**

Sitting at the bar proved more lonesome than originally thought. The men sitting around the joint were all too busy drowning themselves in their own sorrows to look up and notice anything else. Even the bartender had more to attend to as I was the last thought on anyone's mind. It wasn't particularly bothersome, yet part of me was looking for at least one person to think I was interesting enough to talk to.

Here I sat, alone.

As time passed, more and more alcohol was passed to everyone sitting around- including myself. Everyone around me sitting probably 7 drinks in. Maybe more? I was at a sore 5. Yet, even though mine were considered mixed drinks, it packed more of a punch than most of those around me. Alcohol threatened to swish in my brain, yet whatever tolerance built up within my liver shut the thought down immediately. Instead, an eerily calm hand raised the glass to my lips for another drink.

Behind me, with a clamor of what seemed to be genuine emotion, soft laughter filled the bar. Following suit was a barrage of footsteps- heavy boots that tempted the floor beneath it to cave in underneath them. Suddenly, their sounds muted as the sullen environment around them sucked whatever joy they had left. I had been tempted to turn around and gaze at them, wanting no part in their buffoonery yet it seemed every other sunken man in this place seemed to be doing it already.

"Tough crowd," A rough Irish accented voice said. A grumble came after his words seeming to come from another member of the party.

Hearing their footsteps travel along the wood silently was no match to the whispers accompanying them.

"Why are we here, Price?"

"Fuckin' hell. This place is a hell hole."

"I'm going to leave you all here if you don't shut the fuck up."

I couldn't lie and say I wasn't intrigued by what they had to say. A group of men that reeked of death and cigarettes- one of my favorite scents. Confidence poured off only a few tall bodies yet uneasiness crept through them all. Lingering smells of machine guns covered their fingers- enough to make most retreat back. It seems our little bar was putting the tough guys off their rockers. Despite their musk, it was obvious it wasn't their first time stepping into the lion's den.

A strong pair of hands rested on the bar, not yet flagging down the intimidated bartender. Silently beckoned as if scared, the man serving drinks skittered over as if his tail was tucked between his legs. "Yes sir, what can I get you?" Immediate respect filtered through his lips. The display was enough to make me sick. Leaning back in my seat, I placed my eyes anywhere but the pitiful man.

Hesitance.

Curiosity.

As if holding himself back from speaking to someone, whoever stood just a few feet away from me grunted. "Whiskey- 5 of 'em." A deep, raspy, British voice said. Whoever this man was stood there with confidence, demanding attention and respect as if it were his job. With a clear of his throat, I could feel his gaze falling on me.

He was trying to burn a hole through me with his interest. It sparked on his lip while traveling through his entire body. I could feel the hum of electricity. The thoughts running rampant through his brain took notice of my fingers delicately swirling an empty glass between them.

"And whatever the lady's drinking." The man added to his order.

Once the words exited his lips... Four more pairs of eyes noticed where I sat. Pretending as if they all hadn't taken attention upon walking into the bar. A flicker of amusement upon gazing at me. Some interested by the way I sat like a sore thumb among everyone else in this sullen place. Others wondering- asking themselves why.