(A quick caveat before publishing this post: I've been publishing things I've written before, some of them quite a long time ago. In no way do these stories represent the current state of mind of the author.)
He walked into the room, the swinging doors creaking closed behind him. His black, wide-brimmed hat lay low on his head, just enough to cover his eyes. His pale mouth was frozen in a half smirk. As soon as he walked in, the ordinary loud and boisterous room got as silent as a winter midnight. Everyone looked up to see who had come in. I knew immediately that there was going to be trouble; those kinds of men always bring trouble with them.
He walked slowly up to the bar and asked for a beer. I was sitting in the corner, but I heard everything. Everyone was still staring at him, sizing him up. Little by little, conversations began to start again, but only in hushed whispers, afraid to break the silence that had reigned for the last couple of minutes. When the man got his beer, he sat back and stared openly at the people gathered there. When he did this, I finally got a glimpse of his eyes. They were black, not just dark brown, but black as coal mined deep in the darkness where the sun never sees. They seemed to look straight through you into the darkest corners of your soul. When that evil pair passed by me in the corner, I shuddered at the eeriness in that stare.
I quickly got up and left after that episode. I couldn’t stand being in the same room as that man for another second. I left quickly, muttering to the bartender to keep the change as I shoved a bill at him. If I could have run out of there I would have. I was so uneasy that I had to leave. It seemed as if I was the only one. Everyone else had regained their composure (to an extent, at least) and were talking more and more loudly. When I finally left the tavern, I ran to my house on the edge of town. I didn’t want to be within a hundred feet of that man.
I threw open the door after unlocking it and slammed it behind me. I leaned heavily against the door breathing hard. For some reason, I still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread I had felt in that man’s presence. It was as if it had followed me here. I locked the door behind me out of paranoia, maybe, then slowly walked into the kitchen, looking for some water to pour down my dry throat.
To my utter dismay, and extreme fright, the man stepped out from behind the kitchen door only five feet in front of me. I jumped back, terrified and ready to run. I bit my lip in terror, but stood firm. We stood there for a full minute, him with his piercing black eyes and uncomfortable smirk and me with my eyes wide and bleeding lip.
“Wh-wh-who ar-re y-y-you?” I stammered.
“I’m the guy who’s gonna take away your pain.” He said in an eerily uncomfortable rasping voice.
“Wh-what p-pain?”
“You know what it is.” He looked up. “It’s your life!”
At that, I could hold it in no longer and ran. I ran for the front door and fumbled with the keys, trying to get out.
“It won’t do you any good, y’know.” His voice approached.
I got even more frantic than ever as I heard his heavy boots moving my way. I glanced over my shoulder and nearly jumped out of my skin. He was standing right behind me, his eyes level with mine and his disgusting smirk glaring at me. I tried to move away, but was held in place by some invisible force. I struggled against it, but only got myself tangled more and more. When I was totally immobilized, the man took one step back, pulled a Colt revolver out of its holster, cocked it, and pointed it at my head.
“Bye, bye.” he said waving with his other hand.
I woke up panting and screaming in my own bed at home. It had all been a dream. I tried to move and found that my sheets had wound themselves around me forming a cocoon. I breathed a sigh of relief and began to unwind myself. Suddenly, I heard a heavy boot hit the ground beside the bed. I turned and saw the man there pointing his revolver at my head. My eyes went wide.
“Bye, bye.” He said pulling the trigger.
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