I looked up at the clock above the bar and noticed it was fifteen minutes till two and had to start kicking everyone out when I noticed him. A tall slender man in a black suit, black shirt and a red vest accompanied with a silver bow low tie, a beautiful oval piece of jet in the middle. His hair was slick black with a sliver of grey streaking through his neatly combed hair. Looking like a sort of racing stripe. The man was staring directly at me. Almost through me. There was something familiar about him I just couldn't place my finger on. I walked towards him saying you better drink up quickly. it's almost closing time. What do you want? With a devilish grin he asked for a scotch on the rocks, then softly said while looking into my eyes. Like he was looking directly into my soul. almost threateningly. It's not me who is going to be running out of time. What did he mean by that? I thought to myself.

I laughed it off. Drunkards say crazy things to me every night. I reached under the bar for the rocks glass. Fill it with ice, pour his scotch and place it on a napkin in front of him. I turned towards the back wall and shouted for last call while flicking the bar lights on and off. Asking everyone to pay up and go home. The man staring at his own reflection in the mirror behind the bar sipped his drink. Like he didn't even hear me. While he lifted his drink to his mouth I noticed his cufflinks. well polished silver human skulls with rubies for eyes. He placed his drink down on the napkin and gave me a wink.

One by one the patrons paid their tabs and staggered out the door. But the man still sat. Sipping his drink. Until he was the last person at the bar. Alright buddy you don't have to go home but you can't stay here. I said politely yet firmly. He continued to sip his drink. I could feel my blood starting to boil. Hey! I shouted. Are you def or just plain rude? It's time to go pay up and go home! He wouldn't have been the first person I've had to throw out of the bar, and I'm sure he won't be the last. I thought to myself as I started walking towards him. Finally he turned his head and leaned back into his chair. Throwing his arm around the back. He smiled that evil grin he showed me before. The sides of his mouth came to sharp points. His teeth looked like glimmering daggers behind his thin red lips. Now, now, young Michael. Is that any way to speak to paying customers? He said through that demonic smile. How did he know my name? I don't think I introduced myself earlier, did i? I thought to myself.

I don't think now is a good time to be rushing me. He said smugly. Reaching with the arm he had around the chair. He tapped the rim of the glass with his thin boney index finger. How about you pour me another drink and we have a nice little chat. Shall we? I don't like rushing these kinds of things.He said almost menacingly. My heart started to beat through my chest. I could feel it wanting to jump out of my throat. H how did you know my name? I asked, my voice shaking. I know many things about you. He said as he leaned forward and folded his hands on the bar. Like you live on the fifth floor of 145 peedmonte street. Apartment 502. You drive a red nineteen ninety four volvo that's parked right outside this door behind me.

I could feel my eyes widen from terror that is beginning to consume me. I took a big gulp to try and get rid of this lump in my throat from fear. Looking through the small window on the door he mentioned I could see it was raining outside. I guess I couldn't hear the thunder over the music that was being played over the jukebox. My hands began to tremble at my sides. He tapped his glass one more time and said. So how about that second drink? I reached under the bar to grab the bottle of scotch. Reached over the bar and poured into his glass. Filling it up halfway. Putting the bottle back I began to ask. Who are you? But before I could get the words out he interrupted me. Saying, no ice? Tisk tisk Michael. Who is this man? I asked myself. I reached for the ice scoop, my hands shaking enough that half the ice fell out onto the bar top and floor before it reached his glass.

He began to stir his drink with his finger. His nails were stained yellow and jagged. With dark brown and black filth underneath his nail. Who am i? Is that what you were going to ask? He said while still fingering his drink. You could say I'm one of the most popular men in the world. Saying this very matter of factly as he sucked the scotch off his finger. Everyone on earth knows my name. Everyone gets to meet me at least one time. My mind was racing a million miles an hour. I wanted to hop over the bar slam that damn door open and drive away as quickly as i could. But my legs were frozen to the floor with fear. He started to wave his finger at me with his elbow still on the bar. I could see some of the grime under his fingernail has washed away into his drink. And the faint smell of the scotch wafted towards my nose. You've been a very naughty boy Michael. He said with a menacing laugh. A very busy, naughty boy.

I stood there. My mouth wide open paralized with sheer panic. The man reached for his glass and took a sip. With a mouth full of ice he said while setting his drink on the bar top. Continue cleaning up. You don't want to leave a mess when we leave.you've been very good at cleaning up so far, haven't you Michael? I turned my back to him to start to polish the glassware like he said. Looking at him with the reflection of the mirror. That's when the light flickered and the bar went black for a brief second. As a flash of lightning illuminated through the windows. I saw it in the reflection. His face wasn't the face of the man who was sitting talking to me. In that quick moment his face turned into a skull. The milky white bone almost glowed in the darkness. as the blue white light reflected off it. I almost fainted while cleaning the glasses. The one in my hand fell to the floor and shattered. Pieces of broken glass covering the rubber bar mat at my feet.

See something that scared you? He asked knowing the answer already. Maybe you just felt the same fear all four of your victims felt before you brought them to me. I could see that crooked smile begin to grow on his face in the reflection in the mirror. His thin red lips looked almost bloody against his white porcelain skin. I told you I know many things about you. His eyes locked onto me like a lion locks onto a gazelle before it starts the chase. I turned around quickly with the rag still clenched in my left hand. Beads of sweat dripping from my forehead down to my nose and onto the floor.

He pushed himself off of the chair with both his hands on the bar with an audible grunt. Now standing he says crossing his arms. Not a fun change of pace for you is it? You're the one who gives them fear. How does it feel. Being the one toyed with? How do you think Dana felt when you were strangling her in the bathroom? The last sounds she ever heard were the sounds of her choking, and gagging fighting for life while you shushed her. and put her hand directly into mine?

My legs began to feel weak. I was hyperventilating. The room began to spin and I started to get tunnel vision. My mouth suddenly filled with saliva as I doubled over and vomited directly onto the floor. The color of my vomit mixed with the broken glass reminded me of christmas for some reason. When I looked up the man was standing in front of me behind the bar. Oh, poor Michael. he said sarcastically empathetic. He patted my back and said to follow him from behind the bar.

I began to stand up slowly. My mouth is bitter from the taste of bile. burning the back of my tongue like battery acid. Slowing my breathing and regaining my composure I start to walk from behind the bar. With every footstep I was trying not to slip in my own vomit. The broken glass cracked and crunched under my shoes like walking on a frozen lake. Holding on to the cold brass at the edge of the bar I slowly walked around not letting the slender man out of my sight.

The click of his cowboy boots echoed through the empty bar as he walked to his chair. They were black snakeskin boots with a chrome heel. The man sighed as he sat down. What about Jessica? He asked. Do you think she felt fear when you grabbed her by the hair and cut her throat in the ally? When she could feel her flesh being torn layer upon layer. with your cold blade. from ear to ear, The warmth of her blood steaming in the winter air. Drowning in her own blood. Do you think she may have been scared?

You gave them all to me. All of them. You cleaned up after yourself and no traces left behind. Seems to me you're leaving quite the mess tonight, he said pointing behind the bar with a disgusted scowl on his face. I was leaning on the bar. bent at the waist. The brass cold on my forearm and inside my hand as I gripped it to hold myself up. The man leaned forward. His face inches from my own. Have you figured out who I am yet? He asked in a whisper. I. Am. Death!

I've come to collect you. He said, almost annoyed. While Taking a deep breath, It's a real shame because in the past month you've kept me pretty busy. I like your style kid. Gave em the ol Ted Bundy meets Jeffery Dahmer razzle dazzle. He said while making jazz hands rolling his eyes. But the big man asked for you by name. So here I am. He picked up his drink and finished it. Placing the empty glass on the bar. My voice cracked as I asked. But if I kept you and him busy. I said pointing up. Then why are you coming to collect me? The man laughed and slicked his hair back with his bone thin fingers. Then placed his hand on my shoulder. Looked at me and I watched his eyes turn from a piercing blue to a cold dark black. His teeth looked like they were sharpening before my very eyes. I'm a killer by Harley poe starts on the jukebox. He smiled and said, wrong big guy.