Shadows Of The Dead

Chapter 3

Just one more glass of beer and he's done. The club had horns and deadly shots which easily had people drunk. The bartender gave Craven another glass of beer and attended another customer.

Craven barely able to stand, bumped into a muscular man. Trying to head himself out of the club, this man created a mess.

"Watch it you drunk man" The muscular man mouthed off.

"Who says I'm drunk?" Craven asked in a sleepy tone, not able to stand controllably.

"Get the drunk out of this club" The man called over the guards.

The two guards galvanized as they carried Craven out of the club. And they threw Craven out.

Stumbling over, Craven steadied himself and shouted back. "Your big dad drunk, that's what I'm saying"

Then the door shut off in his face.  "That only happens to me.. Bibulous guy" He thought.

Ambling over the empty streets, with just the streetlights and cold wind under the full moon. Craven acted gnomic. It was twilight, people usually stay home at that time.

Yet again, Craven's house was just a few miles away. He can walk that far unless something amiss happens, he can make a run.

Out of nowhere, something hissed. A noise of anger and guilt. Craven's heart sank, he was getting numb.

Many thoughts appeared in  his minds. Was it a murderer? Was there a robber? Was there a GHOST?

Craven choked. "No.. That can't be.. Ghosts ain't real"

The hissing grew louder and horrified Craven's mind. He stopped at his footsteps and glanced around the empty street.

Out of the unnatural causes of death, Ahana fell from the darkness around Craven. This darkness soon transformed into a dark figure without any natural face or body. Just a silhouette. It was disreputable. Ahana stood up dither and pale, staring at the devil with her sword standing by her side.

Craven slowly scrambled down the footpath, making his way out of trouble. Ahana and the figure stared back at eachother until they raged.

Ahana screamed in anger and dramatically sent her sword across the  devil's chest. The silhouette dribbled in groan, disappearing into a distinguished cold air.

The weather changed in its cause, making it drizzle. Slightly drizzling as Ahana turned her face to scrutinize the drunk man. Craven was staring at her with disbelief. His eyes filled with terror, thinking it was hogwash.

Ahana placed her sword at the side and irrationally looked at him. Craven blinked. Was this a joke? Wait.. There must be a shooting going on..

Ahana glanced around the empty streets once she saw that Craven was irreproachable. Magnificent stores glittering into her green eyes and the streetlights made her luxuriate.

"You also drunk, or this is a shooting going on here somewhere?" Craven asked as he lounged on the cemented footpath.

"What is this place?" Ahana asked, giving Craven a irresolute stare. "Who are you?"

"Oh,princess.. This is New Orleans.. " Craven replied. "And I'm Craven Michaelson.. Just please call me Craven"

"But.. I was.. how could.. this.." Ahana went through her thoughts in anger. Then she looked at the drunk man. "What year is this?"

"This is 2020... " Craven smiled. Then his thoughts came back, he was talking to stranger who came out of the darkness at midnight. Returning his gaze to the drizzling, he stood up and saluted her. "Well.. I think its gonna rain, I have to go home"

Craven struggled to walk in a ambled pleasure until he heard the woman shout. His eyes flickered.

"Stop!" Ahana shouted. She walked over to him and glared at his sleepy face. "How do I get back to 1200?"

Craven started laughing. "Princess.. Talk to the cops, they know"

Ahana glanced around, no one was there. "Take me with you" She told him.

"I'm sorry... I'll have to run" Craven said and struggled his legs to escape Ahana. He made a great run, panting.

"Wait" Ahana shouted, chasing him.

Craven ran before, struggling and panting. Ahana ran after, faster and inviolately.