User:Nextoy/Farside Pub/Snowed In

''Winter has been coming sooner and sooner in some places. While the argument about climate change goes on regarding the origin of this phenomenon, it is true that not everywhere experiences this naturally. ''

“What is causing this damn blizzard!? Ain’t supposed to snow for another month!” One of the patrons shouted in frustration. He was a large man, but not muscular. A hard worker, no doubt, but with a build that came from manual labor and not an active desire to exercise.

“You’re drinking whiskey with a giant cat and a goblin, and now you find something to be confused about?” The barkeep asked. The two laughed in unison, knowing he’d been here far too many times to be affected by the strange place.

“Now you listen here. These are my friends. That out there,” The customer pointed towards the door, “Ain’t my friend.”

“Yeah, yeah, and if it’s somethin’ like what comes in here it’ll be taken care of.” The barkeep assured. “Now go ahead and take your excuse to keep drinking in peace, Frank.”

And so business carried on as usual despite the heavy snow just beyond Farside’s doors. Though few were enjoying the weather, many tolerated it. It was only the security guard that looked particularly uncomfortable. He had a sneaking suspicion what this might all be, yet no desire to investigate for himself. Partially because he was on duty at the time. Partially because he didn’t want to be right.

Both Smith and his employer had seen the kinds of anger that turn up in Farside. His job may have been to keep the peace, but safety was a delicacy when working security. It was his life that went on the line for others. And the possibility of this storm being the work of a scorned magician, sorcerer, or shaman was always on his mind.

Or worse, there simply existed a creature which naturally does this to the environment around itself.

“Johnny.” The barkeep caught his attention, snapping the security guard back into the real world. “You need a break?”

“No, just some coffee. Or maybe a Redbull.” Smith walked over to the counter, sitting down. One thing he’d learned from working at Farside is that Redbull is a staple product at bars. Though Farside rarely got the kind of crowd who drank the cocktails it’s used in.

“You don’t have to act as though the weight of this bar is on your shoulders.” The can was set down, already opened, and the security guard wasted no time refuelling. “Believe it or not, I have this place handled most of the time.”

“It’s just my job, sir.” Smith turned to watch the door. The customers weren’t rowdy, so he could focus on there the snow was.

“I don’t want to have to say it as your boss, John.” The barkeep glared at his friend. Smith didn’t look back over to him, knowing what would happen if he did. But staring out the window was possibly worse. “You hearing me, boy?”

“Yes, sir. I’m just-”

“Stop acting like your in the military. I know you’re trying to be polite and it’s during work hours, but I’m trying to talk to you like a normal person right now.” Smith sighed and turned to meet his employer.

“Yes, sir.” The security guard got up out of his chair and walked towards the door. “In that case, I’ll take a smoke break outside.” He told the barkeep as he walked past.

Were the snow outside rain, it would be pouring more like that of a waterfall than any normal weather pattern. The dark of night aided it in blocking visibility further. The smoke of a cigarette and lights leading up to the bar, like lighthouses in a sea storm, were all that Smith could see. Despite this his eyes were transfixed on a single spot. He didn’t know how he knew this, or why they were, except that he was staring at something hidden in the frozen mist. And he knew it was something, for it stared back at him.

It and him.

Him and it.

Smith’s mind was like the snow before him. Moving at speeds that caused each flake to blur into a single mass, yet cold and serene. One hand moved the cigarette back to his lips as the other moved from his pocket to his gun. Something shined in obscurity as he felt the eyes move from his own to that hand.

Both had prepared themselves for whatever may come to pass.

“Fuck it’s cold!” A man spoke as he walked outside. On instinct Smith drew his gun from the sudden exclamation. Portly and reddening from the snow battering his unprotected face, the customer walked through the snow as it parted around him.

Both Smith and the thing hidden in the snow understood the significance of an innocent bystander. Both allowed him to pass, unknowing of what he may have walked in on. The man merely got on his bike and rode off back onto the highway.

Smith looked back to where he knew the creature was. It had no intentions of starting anything while there could be collateral among the living.

And so Smith flicked his cigarette into the snow and walked back inside, wondering what it was he had almost shot at.