The stranger looked at him for a long moment; trying to ascertain whether this was all just some hoax. But Dorn’s face said otherwise. This was no hoax. Whatever this “urge” was, it had the townspeople legitimately concerned.
The last few tavern goers left at this point. They had had enough.
“The urge, eh’?”
“I…I’ve said too much” Dorn stammered. “I think it’s time you left.”
Dorn walked around the bar to the door and pulled it open. It was raining now, and Dorn was surprised by a sudden burst of mist that blew in as he opened the door.
The stranger walked to the door and looked the tavern owner over once more.
“The name’s Miguel, by the way. I don’t suppose you’d have a room to let here?”
Dorn ignored him, staring straight at the opposite wall.
Miguel chuckled once more and patted Dorn on the shoulder as he stumbled out.
Dorn went to shut the door, when Miguel’s hand came out to stop it.
“I’m curious now, barkeep. I think I’ll be around for awhile.” And with that, he left.
Dorn shut the door quickly and bolted it; sighing heavily as he was finally alone.
Dorn checked the bolt again to make sure it was firmly in place before walking back to the bar. There was a second door next to the bar which Dorn bolted also. Dorn went to the fireplace, and poured on a large bucket of sand that sat next to it. Once he was satisfied the dinning room was sufficiently cleaned up, Dorn stepped behind the bar to a door that led to the back room.
Dorn reached into his pocket and pulled out a small set of keys. He rarely left anything unlocked in recent days. People were much too curious for their own good. Dorn unlocked the door and entered the small back room. He lit a candle that sat on a table just inside the room. The room was sparsely furnished with a desk, chair, bed, and large trunk.
But Dorn was not interested in any of that. He walked quickly to the far side of the room to the entrance to the cellar. This door was also locked. Dorn quickly unlocked the door and stepped through.
The cellar was dark. The entire tavern was dark, but the cellar was insulated with double thick walls and no windows. This was an evil darkness.
As Dorn stepped into the cellar, he could hear the faint breathing. As he neared the middle of the room, Dorn lit a torch that sat there and settled into a chair. The only piece of furniture in the room.
Dorn sat for several long moments watching.
“You’re hungry, no doubt.” He said it matter of factly. It was not out of pity or concern, merely an observation. It had been 2 days since he had fed her. He liked to keep the pattern: one large meal, then wait three days. Keeping her on the brink.
He wanted to torture her. He enjoyed sitting down here and eating in front of her.
He had killed others. That was easy. It also quickly lost its appeal. One moment alive and the next they're dead.
But this? This was unique. He didn’t just hold her life in the balance, no. He held her will to live. That’s where the thrill came from. He held her happiness. He held her joy. He held her hope. He held her passions and desires.
Dorn told her all about his day, the monotony of the tavern life, and of Miguel.
Dorn laughed. “He believed everything. I’ve acted well in the past, but I think today may have been my magnum opus!”
He told her everything. Everything he felt and thought and longed for.
After about an hour, Dorn stood. This was his favorite part of the day. This was the thrill.
He smiled slightly at her. Holding her tear filled gaze.
“I love you, Ellen.”
And with that, he left.
The last few tavern goers left at this point. They had had enough.
“The urge, eh’?”
“I…I’ve said too much” Dorn stammered. “I think it’s time you left.”
Dorn walked around the bar to the door and pulled it open. It was raining now, and Dorn was surprised by a sudden burst of mist that blew in as he opened the door.
The stranger walked to the door and looked the tavern owner over once more.
“The name’s Miguel, by the way. I don’t suppose you’d have a room to let here?”
Dorn ignored him, staring straight at the opposite wall.
Miguel chuckled once more and patted Dorn on the shoulder as he stumbled out.
Dorn went to shut the door, when Miguel’s hand came out to stop it.
“I’m curious now, barkeep. I think I’ll be around for awhile.” And with that, he left.
Dorn shut the door quickly and bolted it; sighing heavily as he was finally alone.
Dorn checked the bolt again to make sure it was firmly in place before walking back to the bar. There was a second door next to the bar which Dorn bolted also. Dorn went to the fireplace, and poured on a large bucket of sand that sat next to it. Once he was satisfied the dinning room was sufficiently cleaned up, Dorn stepped behind the bar to a door that led to the back room.
Dorn reached into his pocket and pulled out a small set of keys. He rarely left anything unlocked in recent days. People were much too curious for their own good. Dorn unlocked the door and entered the small back room. He lit a candle that sat on a table just inside the room. The room was sparsely furnished with a desk, chair, bed, and large trunk.
But Dorn was not interested in any of that. He walked quickly to the far side of the room to the entrance to the cellar. This door was also locked. Dorn quickly unlocked the door and stepped through.
The cellar was dark. The entire tavern was dark, but the cellar was insulated with double thick walls and no windows. This was an evil darkness.
As Dorn stepped into the cellar, he could hear the faint breathing. As he neared the middle of the room, Dorn lit a torch that sat there and settled into a chair. The only piece of furniture in the room.
Dorn sat for several long moments watching.
“You’re hungry, no doubt.” He said it matter of factly. It was not out of pity or concern, merely an observation. It had been 2 days since he had fed her. He liked to keep the pattern: one large meal, then wait three days. Keeping her on the brink.
He wanted to torture her. He enjoyed sitting down here and eating in front of her.
He had killed others. That was easy. It also quickly lost its appeal. One moment alive and the next they're dead.
But this? This was unique. He didn’t just hold her life in the balance, no. He held her will to live. That’s where the thrill came from. He held her happiness. He held her joy. He held her hope. He held her passions and desires.
Dorn told her all about his day, the monotony of the tavern life, and of Miguel.
Dorn laughed. “He believed everything. I’ve acted well in the past, but I think today may have been my magnum opus!”
He told her everything. Everything he felt and thought and longed for.
After about an hour, Dorn stood. This was his favorite part of the day. This was the thrill.
He smiled slightly at her. Holding her tear filled gaze.
“I love you, Ellen.”
And with that, he left.
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