Chapter Text
CRACK!
The sound of balls ricocheting across the pool table rang out over the clamor of the room. Glasses clinked, chairs groaned as their occupants shifted their weight, and a dozen conversations blended together into an unintelligible mass. A beat up radio on one end of the bar attempted in vain to relay the details of some kind of sporting event, but mostly just spewed static. Above everything else, the smell of cheap whiskey and a dozen lit cigarettes filled the air.
Shiv smiled as he walked in the door. It didn’t matter what part of the country he found himself in, dive bars like this always felt like home after a day on the road. He made his way over to the bar and sat on an open stool that was more cushioned than the rest, then waved the bartender over.
“Gimme a bourbon.”
The bartender, a portly Ixian with a thick mustache and red skin, just raised an eyebrow. “Can’t sit there.”
“Pretty sure I can.”
“That’s Sam’s stool.”
Shiv snorted. “Oh this is Sammy’s stool is it?” He made a show of looking around. “Well I don’t see little Sammy, so I guess it’s mine now.”
The bartender shrugged. “Suit yourself. You said bourbon?” He took a bottle down from the shelf and filled a glass for Shiv.
Shiv took it with a nod. “Open a tab, this ain’t gonna be a short night.” He drained the glass in one go, welcoming the familiar burn as it traveled down his throat and through his chest. He set the glass back down and tapped the bar for another.
“So, what brings you ‘round these parts?” The bartender asked as he refilled the glass.
Shiv grinned. “Oh, the open road, the wind in my hair, the cops gettin’ a little too familiar with me a few counties over. The usual.”
The bartender grunted as he slid the glass back over. “Well if that’s the case then you might want to keep moving.”
Shiv chuckled. “What? Worried I might cause trouble?” He took a slow sip of the second glass, this time making sure to savor the buttery texture of the bourbon across his tongue.
The bartender snorted. “Hardly. But if you’ve got a habit of rubbing the law the wrong way, this ain’t the time or place. Cops ‘round here’ve been on edge for a while now. There’s strange things afoot.”
Shiv actually laughed. “Ha! Strange things? Buddy, I don’t know if you’ve been reading the news lately, but it’s a strange world we live in these days. Spirits in the air, new magical doodads comin’ outta FI every week, and these back roads are full of all kinds of weird creatures.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Why, just the other day I spotted a fella who had red skin and horns. Like a demon outta an old storybook.” He chuckled again and took another sip of his bourbon.
The bartender scowled. “This ain’t a laughin’ matter. Something’s been tearing up the phone lines all over the county. Worse, I heard rumors of people going missing a few towns over too. The cops ain’t said nothing, but I’ve been seeing more of them on the road than usual, and they’re always in pairs. So if some preening peacock who thinks he’s hard starts causing problems in the middle of all this, they might get trigger happy.”
Shiv smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind.”
The bartender nodded and said, “Make sure you do.” Then he left Shiv alone with his drink.
Shiv spent the next while nursing his bourbon and examining the room. He had to admit, there was a tension in the air. The other patrons had an air of anticipation about them, though they tried to hide it with forced smiles and boisterous laughter. A few of them even watched him, though most tried to play it off like they’d just been scanning the room when he looked in their direction. Most of the other patrons were in close knit groups of three or four. There was only one man alone in the place, sitting in a corner with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. The slightest chill seemed to brush the back of Shiv’s neck, despite the drink warming him. He was almost starting to consider taking the bartender’s advice and making an early exit.
“You’re in my spot.” A voice like thunder rumbled behind him.
Any trace of unease vanished as Shiv’s attention snapped back to the moment. He turned to look, and saw an absolutely colossal man looming over him. Bald, bearded, and at least seven feet tall, Shiv was genuinely shocked that the man appeared to be entirely human.
“Evenin’ Samson.” The bartender called from the other end of the bar.
“Roy.” Samson nodded in response.
Roy the bartender turned to Shiv. “Told you that was Sam’s stool.”
“So you did.” Shiv took a long, slow sip to finish his drink, eyes locked with Samson the whole time.
The massive man sighed. “Right, you’ve had your drink and your fun. Now piss off. I’m not in the mood to deal with whatever this is.”
“Now that’s funny,” Shiv replied, “cause I’m not in the mood for some overgrown son of a bitch to think he can tell me where I can and can’t sit.” He gave Samson a smirk, making it clear he wasn’t going to back down. Now the only question was, would Samson?
He got his answer a second later as Samson grabbed one of the stool’s legs and yanked it out from under him. Shiv caught himself on the bar, and lashed out with a kick to Samson’s gut. It connected with a solid WHUMP, but Shiv felt like he’d just kicked a sack of cement. “The hell is he made of?” he thought to himself.
“Try not to break anything this time.” Roy’s tired voice came from behind him.
Samson grunted in reply, then took a swing at Shiv’s face. It connected with his jaw, and sent him spinning to the ground. But Shiv knew how to take a punch. He sprang to his feet and took a stance with a grin, already tasting blood seeping from his lip. “Well? Let’s play.”
The other bar patrons started to spread out across the room to get better views of the action. Shiv saw money change more than a few hands.
Samson set the stool back down and cracked his knuckles. “You shoulda quit while you were-“
Shiv darted forward and threw a series of quick jabs, catching the larger man off guard. He raised his arms to ward off the blows, leaving his body exposed. Shiv took advantage of the opening and went for a liver shot. It landed with a satisfying thud, causing Samson to stagger back with a gasp and fall against the bar.
Shiv moved to follow him, but was caught by surprise when Samson swung a titanic arm in a backhanded arc. He caught the blow on his forearms but the force was enough to send him skidding away. The other patrons started shouting encouragement and advice.
“Atta boy Sam!”
“Don’t take that from him!”
“Show that pretty boy who’s boss!”
Samson pushed himself up off the bar with a final wheeze, then rolled his shoulders and put his fists up. “Wanna try that again you little shit?”
Shiv leaned back and spread his arms. “Ready when you are.” Samson snorted and charged Shiv. He threw a barrage of brutal punches. There wasn’t much technique behind them, but plenty of power. Shiv weathered the storm, dodging and blocking what he could, rolling with what he couldn’t. It was only a few seconds before Samson’s breath started to come short, the liver blow still taking a toll despite the man’s incredible fortitude.
The blows slowed, and Shiv started to counterattack. Whenever one of Samson’s blows failed, Shiv would seize the moment to land his own, aiming for the bigger man’s gut in hopes of aggravating the pain he’d already suffered. But his hits seemed to have little effect. Samson simply tensed his muscles and shrugged them off as though they were nothing but the strikes of a petulant child. Shiv grit his teeth, realizing the liver shot hadn’t been enough; he’d have to find another opening to hit him somewhere softer.
Any beginnings of such a plan were crushed along with Shiv’s chest as Samson abandoned punching in favor of simply charging forward to slam Shiv against the wall. Samson pinned Shiv there with one forearm, and drew back his fist to drive it into Shiv’s gut. The air rushed from Shiv’s lungs, and he felt his knees weaken. Samson took his arm away, and Shiv staggered forward and fell to one knee. He raised an arm in anticipation of an incoming blow, but was shocked when it didn’t come. He looked up, and saw Samson stride back to the bar without paying him a second glance. Roy brought Samson a glass of whiskey, and the giant man drained it to the cheers of the other bargoers. Those that had placed winning bets held their hands out to their competitors with smug grins.
Shiv’s temper flared as he realized that everyone considered the fight finished. He took a heavy breath, got to his feet, then smiled again despite his building fury. “What? You done already? I was just startin’ to have some fun. Or can you tell you ain’t gonna win this fight?” The crowd went silent, then swelled with noise and the rustling of bills as presumed losers reclaimed their bets.
Samson slapped a hand down on the bar and stomped over, the once coveted stool now forgotten. Shiv tensed, waiting for the last moment to react. Samson reeled back and threw a haymaker that could have taken a man’s head off. Shiv dashed forward, ducking under the blow to get behind his opponent. As he stood, he drove his elbow into Samson’s kidney. The giant shouted in pain and collapsed, hitting the floor hard enough to shake the light fixtures overhead.
A series of shouts came from the audience, some sympathetic, others more amused. Samson rolled onto his side, still groaning in pain, then Shiv kicked him in the ribs. He felt something crack in the impact and went for another. The crowd started to cry out in indignation.
One man stepped forward, trying to get between the two of them. “He’s down! You won! Now lay off you jackass!” He put a hand on Shiv’s chest and tried to push him back.
Shiv grabbed him by the wrist and snarled at him. “You put another hand on me,” he yanked his knife free from its sheathe, “and I’ll take a finger.” He threw the offending hand away and glared, daring the man to try something. The man backed away, eyes wide and hands raised now that a weapon had entered the equation. Shiv stared him down, and swept his gaze over the rest of the crowd. Most looked at him in fear or anger, though the one man sitting by himself grinned in approval. Shiv looked back down at Samson, who lay on the floor, clutching at his chest and groaning. “Don’t you for a second think you’re better than me.”
The unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped came from behind Shiv, and he turned to see Roy aiming a sawed-off at him with a scowl. “Best put that knife away.”
Shiv bounced the blade in his hand. A part of him wanted to whip it across the bar into the barkeep’s gun arm, but he’d made his point. He sighed and slid his knife back into its sheath, then crouched down next to Samson and slipped the wallet from the groaning man’s pocket. “Heh, thanks for buying tonight, big man. Let’s do it again sometime.” He got to his feet and slipped a ten from the wallet and flicked it towards the bar, where it promptly fluttered to the floor. Shiv smirked at Roy, then took the rest of the cash and tossed the wallet aside. Roy scowled, but put the shotgun away and brought a healing rite out from under the counter and approached.
Shiv stepped towards the door, making room for Roy to crouch down and place the thick green candle next to Samson. The barkeep snapped his fingers over the wick, creating a spark that quickly grew into a green flame. A green glow started to stream off the flame and envelop Samson, and his groans began to fade. Shiv snorted, then headed out the door. “You folks have a nice night now.”
He stepped out into the cold and took a deep breath, letting the chill fill his lungs. It was a clear night, with a crescent moon so thin it looked fit to pierce the sky around it. Shiv licked his bleeding lip and smiled, then zipped up his coat and headed over to his motorcycle. The little dive bar was the only building for miles, tucked away at the edge of a forest. Shiv would be on the road for another couple of hours before he reached a town to bed down for the night. He kickstarted his bike, slipped his goggles over his pompadour, and sped away into the dark. All in all, it’d been a pretty good night so far.