Splunker’s The Cat Productions

An uncontrollable shiver made it’s way over Richard’s body. No amount of wrapping himself in his own arms could fight off the unearthly chill that surrounded him. He walked past silent buildings. He wondered about the residents of this place silently as he rounded a corner into a small square. In the center of the square was a statue carved from the same dark blue stone everything else was made with. It was a robed figure standing on top of a rock holding aloft in one hand a set of scales, and in the other tucked under the arm an hourglass. The face of the person depicted was hooded. The craftsmanship reminded Richard of ancient Grecian statues he’d seen in text books during school. He looked at the buildings around the square. A tall building with a sign stating “HOSPITALE” in a large roman-esque font.

Richard raised an eyebrow and gazed around to the other side of the square. He noticed a series of fruit stands of varying designs. There were baskets and bowls strewn about the counters but they were all empty. As far as he could tell they’d been abandoned for some time. There was a large building with a high set of steps. Large columns supported an extended gabled roof. It looked like a very unoriginal stately courthouse or something similar to Richard. His eyes focused on the front of the gabled roof supported by the pillars and saw an engraving of scales confirming his suspicions.

He shrugged and made his way to the final building in the square that was remotely interesting. Interesting in more than just the large neon sign hanging out front, but it seemed to be the only place Richard has seen so far that had sound coming from it. He made his way up to the free swinging saloon doors and pushed his way inside.

The place was packed full of all sorts of people. So many faces and voices filled the place it almost overwhelmed Richard. He focused on the bar and slowly made his way to an empty seat. He huddled over the bar cautiously looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was looking at him. Of course there were a handful of onlookers, but no one seemed very interested in him. He could see a group of men sitting at a nearby table playing cards and laughing amongst themselves. He stared at them for a moment as one man burst out laughing. It was a laugh of victory as he placed his winning hand on the table and raked in the pile of gold and jewels that sat in the middle.

Something about his laugh rubbed Richard the wrong way and caused him to shiver a bit more. He turned back to look for the bartender who appeared to be an young man with his hair swept back not long enough to tie back, yet not short enough to stay out of his eyes whenever he leaned over to pick up a glass from beneath the bar top. Richard could see he had a short beard and mustache which was very neatly trimmed and made him look older than he seemed from a distance. He soon came over to Richard.

“What can I get for you sir?” he spoke with a very light accent that Richard couldn’t quite place.

“A shirt and some shoes would be wonderful.” he replied. Feeling a bit odd to be joking with an undead bar tender in what was by all explanations a tavern in purgatory.

“Ha! It is pretty obvious that you are new to these parts. Anyone who has been here for some time knows they can change their own appearance. If you are cold it is only because you think you should be cold.” he smirked and raised his hand to push the hair out of his eyes again and in an act of demonstration his hair grew another few inches and he tied it back with a black ribbon he pulled from his apron pocket.

Richard thought about the holes in his neck and reached back to feel. The wounds had completely closed up during his walk to the bar. So he closed his eyes in concentration. He could feel the chill leave his body slowly. He opened his eyes and looked to see he was wearing a black t-shirt and a olive colored field jacket his sister had bought him for his birthday a year ago.

He stared in amazement. It was the very same jacket! Two button close breast pockets, and two zipper hip pockets on the outside. It was zipped up halfway and the buttons that were used to closed over the zipper were open. He reached down to verify that the button that was second from the bottom was still missing. He looked up at the bartender who was smirking at him bemused.

“This is amazing!” exclaimed the still surprised Richard. He reached into the jacket to probe the inner breast pocket for a folded scrap of paper that read:

“Thought you’d think this was a pretty cool coat. Happy birthday, Love Maggie.”

He swallowed hard and tucked the paper back into the coat pocket. He’d kept it there since she’d given him the jacket. He almost smiled when it dawned on him that he’d never be able to see her again.

“I see you are now realizing that you will never see your loved ones again.” the bartender said calmly. Richard looked up to see the bartender was saddened by this.

“It was my choice. You shouldn’t feel bad because I was stupid.” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Oh? So you did yourself in?” the bartender asked intrigued.

“Would it be to much to ask for a drink even though I have no money to pay for it?” Richard asked, cutting the bartender off before he could ask why.

“Certainly. Since it is your first night in Reaper’s Gate you are entitled to free drinks.” the bartender said as he pulled a glass from beneath the counter and began to fill it with a clear liquid. As soon as he’d filled the glass he moved on to help another patron. Richard assumed it was because he’d cut him off.

He thought nothing of it and took a sip from his drink. It was cool and tasted like mint. It washed down his once damaged throat and took some of the blood taste with it. He swallowed hard and took a breath. The breath turned into a sigh and he slumped forward on the bar.

His thoughts were conflicted. He wanted to go back and undo the previous day. He wanted to go and apologize to his sister. She was the only person in his life that he could consistently count on. After their parents went missing when they were still kids. He was ten and she was thirteen. Their parents had gone out for the evening leaving them with their long time babysitter Mrs. Crow. She was a nice young widow who lived next door. Richard always loved the way she would smile when she saw him. Something about her smile always gave him hope. He smiled as he thought about it. He shook his head and took another drink before returning to his reminiscence.

He remembered it was raining. His parents had promised to be home by ten that night. Something was unsettling about that night, but Richard couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He knew something was just wrong that night because Mrs. Crow was unnerved as well. She fed them a home made dish that Richard couldn’t remember anymore and sent them to bed early. He remembered Maggie complaining, but he didn’t remember having any trouble getting to sleep.

The next day he went into the living room to find Mrs. Crow sleeping on the couch. He moved over to look out the window to see if his parents car was back but the driveway was still empty. His parents never came home that night.

The following week was nothing but feelings of loss and being a scared ten year old kid. He remembered the police coming and talking to Mrs. Crow. She was the one who broke the news of their parents sudden complete disappearance to them. Maggie cried non-stop for what seemed like hours. He just tried to understand.

The police believed his parents were abducted at some point. Their car was found on the outskirts of the town where they lived abandoned. No signs of another vehicle or a struggle or anything. They were just gone. All his life he’d wondered about what happened that night.

Mrs. Crow ended up adopting them and seeing them through school. She cared for them as much as she would have cared for her own kids. Richard loved her like she was his own mother. He still went to see her when he got the chance. She lived just outside of the city where he and Maggie had moved. A new pain ached in his heart as he thought about never seeing her again. He wondered if Maggie had been to see her since he died.

He was about to cry when someone slammed their hand on the bar in front of him. He could feel someone standing very close to him where he sat. He looked up to see a man with stringy shoulder length blonde hair standing beside him, he was staring at the bartender.

“Oi, Frenchy! Give me a proper drink before I climb across this bar and slam your head into the bloody cheap beer bottles you got litterin’ the counter back there!” the man yelled before sitting at the bar stool next to Richard.

He man wore a leather jacket with a fur lined collar sticking straight up. He pulled a cigarette from behind his ear as he sat down. He placed it in his mouth and nodded at the bartender who was pouring a dark brown drink into a crystal glass.

“My thanks.” he mumbled as he brought the fickle flame of a disposable lighter to his cigarette.

Richard stared at the man for a moment. He watched as he puffed on his cigarette and took a sip from his glass. Richard’s eyes were transfixed as something drifted across the man he was looking at. It appeared to be a bubble. It moved it’s way across his shoulder revealing beneath blackened burnt flesh. It drifted upwards to his neck and onto his face. Richard stared in horror at the burned remnants of the man’s face as the bubble made it visible. The man turned and caught Richard staring.

“What’s the matter? You never seen a dead man?” the bubble passed over the man’s eye as he spoke to Richard. It revealed a horrible black hole where there was a stern blue eye just a moment before.

Richard couldn’t speak so he just looked away. This caused the man to get closer.

“You must be new ’round ‘ere.” he said, he was so close Richard could taste his cigarette.

Richard coughed and the man backed off a bit. He flicked his cigarette into an ashtray sitting on the bar before taking another drink. He sat his now empty glass on the bar and extended a hand towards Richard. He was wearing fingerless biker gloves.

“Name’s Daren, Daren Cheese!” he announced waiting for Richard to accept his handshake.

“Richard Cullen…” Richard said hesitantly. He took Daren by the hand and gave him a solid shake.

“Richard eh? Mind if I call ya Rick? So, how’d ya get here Rick? Did ya get hit by a bus or sumthing like that?” he asked, his cigarette bobbing up in down between his lips as he spoke.

“No… No… I uh… I sh-”

“Another drink here frenchy!” he interrupted. “Sorry mate, carry on.”

“I shot myself.” he said looking down almost ashamed. He felt like an idiot sitting in a room full of people who had probably had much more interesting lives than he, and had probably died in much more interesting ways.

“Well now, if I had a penny for every bloke who gunned himself out of that world I’d have a full pocket.” he laughed putting out his cigarette butt.

“Well… How did you get here… Um…?”

“Daren. I was asleep in my home when some arsehole decided he wanted to be warm for a few hours and firebombed the fuckin’ place! Just thinking about it pisses me right off!” he had snatched the drink from the bartender who had just refreshed it.

“I don’t know why someone would do something like that.” Richard said, trying to sound sympathetic.

“Right. I imagine you don’t want to talk about why you went and killed yourself so let’s change the subject. Where are you from?” Richard asked lighting up another cigarette.

“Uh…”

“You know what? That’s not important. Let’s talk about the Gate. I’m sure you got loads of questions about this place. I’ve been here for a good fifteen years meself.” he chuckled and pointed to his knee which is where the bubble showed a blackened knee cap. “Fifteen years and I still can’t get rid of this bloody black patch! It’s quite frustratin‘. They say you’re abilities are in direct proportion to your spirit, I guess I wasn’t a very spirited person when I was amongst the livin’.”