Spawn Of A Mad-Man

Let There Be Fire

23/3/2047

Wing wandered to the bar counter, slowly, ignoring all the stares, and glares, and the oozing agony that emanated from the strangers within the Midway.

"What can I get you?" The barman said, with a smile, as if he wasn't working in a place that held so much misery.

"Whiskey. Neat. No preference." They responded.

The barman glanced towards the whiskeys sitting neatly behind him, on a shelf, organised well.

"I think you'd like this one." He said, as if it mattered.

The one he grasped was amber in colour and upon it, sat imagery one could only refer to as Satanic.

Wing gave a slight smirk towards the man, finding the choice fitting for a creature as hellish as themselves.

"I haven't seen you before have I?" He queried, making conversation as any decent barkeep tends to do.

"You have not." They answered sternly.

He began filling a small round glass with the liquor, careful not to fill it too much.

"Does the mystery man have a name?" He placed the glass down before Wing, gesturing for them to try it.

Wing stared deeply into his eyes, trying with all their strength to understand the man before them.

"I do, but you wouldn't know it, nor do I care to tell it. And I'm no man, merely a passer-by." Their words were honest despite the vague replies.

They moved the glass carefully to their lips, the liquid, upon touching their fake tongue, was surprisingly pleasant like the taste of chocolate to an excitable child.

"There is one name however, a title of sorts, that you may know well." They had peaked the interest of the man, who had begun cleaning an already cleansed glass, "The Winged Killer is what the papers call me."

The man stood shocked for a mere moment before leaning slightly closer.

"And what is it you are looking for here?" He asked, experienced with such evil.

"Fascinating," Wing said, enthused, "I can hear your heart beating and yet, it barely changed. You don't seem the least bit frightened, beyond understandable surprise."

The barkeep looked down a second before meeting Wing's crimson filled eyes.

"I meet the likes of you daily. There's very little I still fear. Now what brings you here? Everyone has a reason above just a desire for a drink and meaningless chit-chat." The man spoke as though it was merely script to him.

"A couple of months ago, a rich twat, an old friend of mine walked through those doors," they pointed to the battered and scratched entrance, "most likley sat at this very same bar." They scraped their palm along it's top. "He, accompanied by 2 others, asked for information regarding his brother. Then you, I presume it to have been you, gave him 4 tickets to a grand ball that you had believed would be helpful."

"Yes, I remember him." The bartender uttered, being very careful with his own words, unsure of the danger he was in.

Wing stared, filled with might, into the man's eyes, never blinking.

"And I assume you know how the host of that ball was found, a mere month later. His face, separated from his head." They couldn't hide their smirk as it began to creep at the edge of their mouth.

"They said the Winged killer did it. Which must mean you did it." The man remained stern, hiding any sign of fear.

"Correct." They said, their expression unmoving.

Wing, gently sipped the golden whiskey that now sat back in their hand, savouring the flavour as if it was the essence of life itself.

"He was the giver of identities so I tuck his myself." Wing uttered, with a great deal of pride.

"Why are you here?" The bartender feared this answer but had no choice, except to ask.

"I have a list of sorts. A mental catalog of people I want dead. And the people sat drinking, and bargaining, a thieving in this bar are the next lot to get crossed off." They stared deeply at the man, realising their own mistake in their speech. "I do not wish for you to fear. You are safe. You helped my friend. However, that promise of safety is offered on one condition."

The man eased slightly, but remained cautious of the creature who spoke before him.

"What is the condition?" He spoke quickly, despite the lump sat within his throat.

"Leave now. Use the backdoor and lock it behind you. Do not look back. Do not worry about being blamed for these murders. The police will know you are not at fault, for I have already left my mark on the bouncers outside." They stated holding an eagerness to dispel any concerns, as well as a strong passion to be rid of these names from the list.

With little objection the barkeep made for the exit, as dread seeped within his soul.

The killer began the tirade by first throwing the, now empty, glass towards the shelves of various liquor.

The collapsing of the unit and the bottles that shattered upon the floor, sent panic into the room beginning an orgy of confusion anger and terror.

As the criminals in the bar stood with fury and malice, the killer spat fire from their left arm, covering the place in crimson fllame.

The lighting of which, was aided immensely by the drink on the ground.

One ran towards the door, hoping to live, but instead had her hand pinned to the exit by a silver blade, thrown by the very devil they wished to flee.

The more they tried to fight the demon, the more blood puddled on the hardwood flooring beneath their feet.

The combination of blood and flesh and flame was the perfect concoction of agony, true and everlasting.

Bodies laid flat on the ground, the flesh beggining to smell like the barbecues often found in the mid-Summer.

It was merely minutes that Wing spent setting the place ablaze before they began to leave;  removing the knife still nailed into a hand as they left.

Upon reaching the moonlight, they admired their work.

They took great pleasure in hearing those final screams, and even more pleasure in the final thuds of the dead hitting ground.

They took one last look towards the bouncers that sat at peace near the Midway's entreating door, before deciding to go after the bartender.

Their only reason, in which being, to make sure the deal is honored, and that the barman remains safe from the ensuing aftermath of Wing's chaos.