"This is it?" he asked as he closed the door. The smell of cigars and sweat was heavy in the air.
Trombone was slowly playing a low tune at the podium. The people were oblivious to the sad sound as they nursed the drinks of their choice or talked with their companions. Bartender was behind the bar amusing guests, handing out drinks or making sure everyone had his ear as he moved left to right.
The woman's low voice was barely heard as she quietly said, "Yes." She avoided to look the old man in the eyes. Out of respect and fear.
Samael dug into his pocket and took out one single gold coin. The woman's eyes went wide as she opened the palm of her hand. Shakily waiting for the precious item to be lowered down. Slowly she followed the gold land softly into her waiting palm where she hungrily snatched it away. Without any further thought she was out the door. Running to feed her loved ones.
Samael scanned the dark and dingy tavern. Everyone was deeply invested with the drinks of their own choice, only the barkeep was aware of the arrival of his new patron. A quick glance and the seasoned barkeep already knew who he was dealing with. If the man decided to engage him in conversation, years of experience would tell him if this was an off-worlder. As they treated those, hungry for adventure, differently.
Taking several steps, he kept quietly conversing with his customers, handling their drinks, replenishing those that wanted one more shot to forget their misery.
He watched as the old man limped his way towards the stool that sat on the opposite end of the bar. The man obviously wanted privacy. He took a clean rag, slung it over his shoulder and walked towards the hooded man.
"What will it be?" the man asked with his rough voice.
Samael looked him in the eye and said, "One beer."
As he reached for a clean glass he asked, "Traveling through?"
Several empty bottles that were in the way were quickly moved, and one full bottle found itself tightly grasped between the barkeep's steady hands. Like he did all morning, he deftly removed the cap and slowly poured the brew into the waiting glass container.
"You might say so." Samael said, watching, mesmerized the deft hands work their magic on the pint that started pouring into his glass.
With an odd smile he received the offered pint of beer and started slowly sipping the foam of the top, the fumes slowly making their way to his nose, "Delicious. Just what the body needs."
"Tough day?" The bartender asked and smiled.
"You might say so." Samael repeated, with his gloved hand he pushed a coin towards the barkeep.
The barkeep chuckled, "Man of few words. Just as I like them. Quiet, sipping their beer and paying on time. You hear that Kent. Pay the fuck up."
"Fuck off, wanker," a voice shouted somewhere in the bar.
"Damn lousy drunk. You have until next week or I'll get the boys involved." The man shook his finger.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the voice burped, "You always say that. I pay. Next month it's all over again."
Barkeep shook his head, leaning in he started quietly talking with Samael, "He's right you know."
Ignoring their bickering Samael finally spoke, "Listen," Samael attracted the attention of the enraged bartender, "I'm looking for Aliana."
Whatever noises were in the bar stopped, everyone seemed to focus their attention on Samael.
"Now, what do you want to meet her dear sir. We had so much fun talking, drinking and -- well -- having fun." The bartender was suddenly paying more attention to Samael than the ruffling noises in front of the bar.
"Like I said I want to meet her." Samael explained, "As to reason;
why do I want to meet her
, well, that does not matter. I just do."
The man sneered taking out a knife from behind his back, "I think not. Sir, I must ask of you to die."
Everyone moved as one, chairs dragging, clothes ruffling, the bartender leading the attack, charging Samael with his sharp blade.
But before he could thrust his long blade into Samael's chest, the man found himself lying on the floor. Watching the dirty ceiling. The cobwebs were starting to accumulate on the beams and the corners of the wall.
"Pathetic," Samael whispered, the bartender could hear the creaking of the floorboards. "I must say I didn't expect this many people working for you."
He watched the celling as he listened to the patrons, some of them his long, close friends, screaming in abject horror and pain. The cobwebs moving silently in the draft. Left to right; up and down. The tiny spider that started to weave a new one oblivious to the murdering screams that started filling the room. Terror and abject desperation replaced whatever harmony remained.
One by one every patron of the bar underwent the torment of being cut by Samael's sharp blade. He never asked any questions, just seemed to revel in their torment as they screamed their last breath. Watching their eyes as they started to feel the blade scrape out their flesh, the blood seeping through the open wound and splashing their clothes. One started to gargle some incoherent words before he passed out from shock and pain.
He finally approached the bartender. Stepping over the piss that was slowly spreading beneath the immobile man. He then knelt near his head. Bloody blade in his hand. His eyes met Samael's.
Bartender knew death when he saw it.
Watching the man's face left no question that the noises he heard were real. His friends were gone. The man above him looked like he had lost everything and he wasn't planning of getting it back. The eyes of a man that even gods abandoned.
The fallen man spoke in quiet, calm tone, "I'll ask you again bartender. Where can I find Aliana?" It was so different from the scene that went on before. It was as if this was just another day of business as usual.
Samael gripped the blade tightly between his fist. The other hand took the man's hair and gripped it hard, "One last time. Where is she?"
The man simply closed his eyes, unaware that Samael had a foreboding smile on his face. He couldn't scream or call for help. The pain was unimaginable. The knife took layer after layer of his scalp, inch by grueling inch. The blade suddenly stopped.
Eyes half lidded he watched as the man beneath his blade went to shock and eventually expired. His voice barely a whimper.
"I just want to know." Samael repeated over and over as he exited the dingy bar; trailing blood drops as he went.
The weather was murky. Scent of rain was in the air.
People were mulling about, rushing from one point to another. Samael kept his head low, cloak over his head to protect him from any would be beggars. Farmers were out preparing their hoes. Sowing their crops. Kids playing in the distance. The deadly interrogation that happened in the bar was unknown to anyone.
He walked among the people. Bumping into several while his mind sifted the information he gathered so far. Another dead end it would seem. He wanted to point his ship's weapons and blast this infernal world to bits and pieces. However, kids joyously screamed and made his anger boil down. Eventually memories of his life past assuaged the rage that was slowly building.
The people were slowly becoming immaterial. He ignored them as he moved about. His empty mind not finding anything that would stand out. His search was slowly becoming moot.
Suddenly, he felt chill in the air. Samael stopped and looked around. The people were wearing lighter clothes. The men and women, even some of the children, were walking around as if they didn't feel anything. He started to see his breath. The cold slowly found its way to his bones.
He sensed something else was there. A terrible dark energy.
Then he saw the creature in the dark. Covered with tattered rags and partially decomposing flesh. Its face hidden behind the cowl of darkness. Its bony limbs started to slowly lift in the air. The abhorrent horror pointed one of his bony fingers back toward the building he just came out of. Samael grimaced. He glared towards the fallen horror, watching it for few moments. Eventually, the man relented. Samael turned and walked back into the dark room filled with death.
One man convulsed on the floor. As the man spotted Samael enter the bar one more time he started to crawl away from him. He started to drag his heavy limp body as fast as he could away from the danger. Desperate to get away. However, no matter how much life force the man still possessed Samael was beside him in no time, watching the struggling man attempt to stay alive.
Samael knelt on the ground, "Tell me where she is," he whispered, "And I'll bring you peace. Talk now. Or suffer."
The man kept crawling away from him. As if the terror he felt deafened his ability to hear. He was slowly advancing towards the door that led outside. Samael silently followed him with his eyes for a while, repeating the same question, finally Samael stuck a finger deep in one of his holes. Blood still slowly drizzling down.
The man gasped in shock, "Follow the road to the east. There is a... house on the road. It's hers." He desperately recited and turned to his side watching Samael's fallen face.
Samael finally smiled, extracted his fingers and quickly disposed of the dying man. The knife cutting deep through flesh and bone. Red blood spraying the wooden floor. The dying man convulsed several times then expired. Samael rose to his feet watching the decomposing horror inspect the murder scene. The bloody blade he tucked away in its sheet. The knife started to vibrate and sing as he moved it away, as it was ecstatic to be used. By the time he looked up the horror was gone. He growled in annoyance and went out the door, covering himself with a cloak as the rain was just starting to fall.