In Gods’ Hollow: May 15, 1912

They weren’t pleased to see me.

The mustachioed bartender started to speak as soon as the door closed behind me, and I put a slug through his open mouth, blowing his brains out over the liquor bottles and the nearest man.

Pistols were drawn, as were knives, and the men charged toward me.

The cold fury within my heart exploded, and I emptied both Colts into them. My shots were sloppy, killing far more of them than I intended. Their rounds went wild, fear throwing off their aim. They had heard of me, it seemed, for they were calling my name out to one another and one of them raced for the back door.

The raven shot after him, slamming into the back of the man’s head and driving him to the floor as I waded into the survivors with my knife drawn.

The fighting was hard and brutal, and I was soaked in blood and brains by the time I finished.

There were only three men, still alive and conscious. Others were still clinging to life, but they would provide little information. As the survivors watched, I gutted the unconscious men.

While I reloaded my Colts, Grimnir moved from corpse to corpse, plucking out eyes and nipping at tongues.

When I had regained my composure, I walked around the back of the bar, found a bottle of whiskey, and wiped the brains of the bartender off it. As I took a drink, I walked back around to where the three living men sat, watching me.

I asked the first man where the Coffin boy was, and he spat in my face.

I suspect he believed he was showing me how strong and fearless he was.

He was screaming by the time I finished sawing the nose off his face. He fainted when I poured some of the whiskey on the open wound.

The second man didn’t respond when I asked the same question. He stared straight ahead, his teeth clenched.

I cut a hole in his belly and stuck my hand in. When I found his liver, I squeezed. The shock of it killed him.

The third man told me that the Coffin boy was three levels down, and would reach the sorting room within a week, if not sooner.

I blew the man’s brains out.

I killed the others and left with the whiskey.

#horror #monsters #supernatural #death

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Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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