18-19

**Chapter 18: Terrifying**

*Zzzk!*
*Splash, splash, splash—*

"Ahh~"

Standing in front of the urinal, Martin unzipped his jeans to release the pressure in his bladder, letting out a satisfied sigh.

He shivered slightly, his hazy vision catching sight of the guy who had followed him into the restroom, standing in the adjacent stall.

At that moment, the man tilted his head at an odd angle, little by little, as if trying to peek at something.

"Buddy, *hic*, if you wanna take a look, just say so," Martin slurred, his voice tinged with drunken arrogance. "I get it, you guys are curious about this stuff. I mean, let's face it, we're naturally gifted down there..."

Instead of covering up, Martin leaned back proudly, exposing himself further, ready to revel in the shock and envy he expected to see on the man’s face.

He’d imagined the man might be surprised—but not to *this* extent.

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

To Martin’s horror, the tilted head seemed to lose its last bit of support, sliding off the neck and landing with a dull thud on the floor. It rolled a few times, like a soccer ball, before stopping.

Staring down at the decayed face, Martin could even see maggots wriggling in the hollowed eye sockets.

The grotesque sight left Martin’s alcohol-clouded mind completely blank.

Instinctively, he blurted out, "Dude, your head fell off."

"Oh, that’s not my head," came a low, guttural voice from the man’s body beside him.

Before Martin could process what was happening, the body split open. From its stomach emerged a dark red tongue, curling around the severed head on the ground and swallowing it whole.

---

At the bar counter, Cassie sipped her martini, her eyes scanning the scene. Bert and Susan were practically glued together, oblivious to the world, while Ian wandered aimlessly around the bar, clearly searching for someone to latch onto.

Curious, she leaned forward and asked the frail bartender, "How long has this bar been open?"

"It’s been here for a long time, ma’am," the bartender replied in a listless tone as he wiped a glass.

"Strange—I’ve never heard of it before," Cassie remarked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

"Perhaps it’s because the bar is in such a remote location. Typically, only our... 'approved' patrons visit."

"So, does that make us 'approved' patrons now?"

The bartender’s vague response piqued Cassie’s interest. Smiling drunkenly, she leaned closer to the skeletal figure behind the counter.

"That’s up to the boss to decide," he said. "If the boss approves of you, then you’re considered regulars."

Dodging the question, the bartender’s gaze flicked to her empty glass. "Would you like another drink, ma’am?"

Realizing her glass was empty, Cassie chuckled. "Sure, pour me another."

"Of course, ma’am."

Placing the empty glass on the counter, the bartender turned around, trembling slightly as he began preparing her drink.

While waiting, Cassie’s gaze wandered across the bar.

A lively country ballad from the early ’80s played in the background, its cheerful melody freezing time in an oddly surreal moment.

"Here’s your drink, ma’am," the bartender said, pulling Cassie back to the present.

She turned, just as a white, spherical object flashed past her eyes and dropped into the glass in front of her.

*Plunk!*

The liquid splashed, scattering drops all around the counter.

Cassie wiped the spilled drink off her wrist and peered into her glass.

Her blood ran cold, and her drunken haze evaporated in an instant. Floating in the glass was a pale, human eyeball.

"Apologies, ma’am..."

Before Cassie could react, the frail bartender reached into her glass with his bony fingers, plucked the eyeball out, and casually pressed it back into his hollow, black eye socket.

"The bar’s been so busy lately," he said, his tone as lifeless as before. "I’ve neglected proper care for my eye. If you’d like, I can make you a fresh drink—or, if you’re a fan of eyeball-flavored cocktails, that works too."

*Plop!*

Before he could finish, the skin on his face detached and fell onto the counter with a wet slap, revealing a grinning skull underneath.

"Ta-da! Complimentary service," the bartender quipped weakly, glancing at the fallen face skin as though it were a piece of abstract art.

Despite his attempts to downplay the horror, his efforts were in vain.

Cassie’s face twisted in terror, her mouth opening to scream—

"Ahhh!"

A louder, more piercing scream rang out behind her, drowning out her own.

The bar’s music abruptly stopped.

"Sweetheart, it’s not what it looks like!"

Susan sprang away from Bert as if shocked, stammering an excuse when Martin came barreling out of the restroom, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

"Run! *Run!*" Martin yelled, his voice trembling with fear. "Monsters—there are monsters in this bar!"

To Susan’s surprise, Martin wasn’t angry about what he’d seen. Instead, his face was etched with sheer panic.

His jeans were soaked down one leg, an unmistakable wet patch spreading from his thigh.

"Martin, ha-ha, you wet yourself!" Bert jeered, assuming Martin was fabricating the story to cover his embarrassment.

"Ha, ha—" Bert’s laughter died abruptly.

The bar had gone eerily silent.

All around them, the once-rowdy patrons now stood motionless, their vacant stares locked on the group.

"What’s going on?" Ian stammered, his voice shaking.

"Martin, what did you do to make everyone here so angry?!"

---

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 19: The Boss

“I’d rather ‘they’ were angry because of me!”

Retreating to the farthest edge of the bar counter, Martin looked at the surrounding "crowd" closing in. His dark face turned ashen pale in an instant.

His wide eyes betrayed his growing despair, and his trembling jaw made an audible chattering noise as he fought back the primal fear rising from deep within. Glancing toward the "crowd," his gaze landed on a familiar figure behind them. That sight shattered the last shred of courage in Martin's heart.

His legs wobbled uncontrollably until he collapsed to the floor, shouting in terror.

“Monsters! ‘They’re’ all man-eating monsters! The entire bar is their lair! We’re doomed! We’re all going to die—we’ll all be eaten, just like the head in the bathroom!”

Martin’s panicked state only served to stoke the growing fear among the group.

Looking at the eerily expressionless "crowd," Burt pulled his lips into a grimace and said, still skeptical:

“Stop joking, Martin. That’s not funny at all.”

Compared to the monsters Martin was raving about, Burt preferred to believe it was drunken nonsense.

“Joking?”

“Look behind you, Burt!”

Unlike Burt and the others, who remained dubious, Cassie had already been convinced of Martin’s claims after seeing the bartender’s "true face." Her pale complexion and trembling voice gave her away.

“Aah!”

“A sk-sk-skull!”

Cassie’s words made Burt and the others nervously turn around.

The next moment, Susan let out a piercing scream as she pointed to the bartender, now reduced to nothing but a skull behind the bar. Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted on the spot.

Leaning toward Susan’s collapsed form, Martin peeked nervously. Two eyeballs popped out of the bartender’s sockets, rolling onto the bar counter and bouncing a few times before coming to a stop.

This gruesome sight caused both Burt and Ian, the pierced-nose man and the gay companion, to cling tightly to each other, their teeth chattering loudly as they screamed no less dramatically than Susan had.

...

“Why are there ordinary people here?”

“What’s going on?”

“So, what do we do? If regular people discover the bar’s secret, it’ll be a disaster.”

“Should we just eat them?”

“Do you think the boss would allow that?”

“Well, the boss isn’t in the bar right now.”

As Cassie and the others were surrounded, murmurs of debate rose from the "crowd."

Martin’s already pale face turned even whiter as he met the "crowd’s" gazes.

“I’ve seen them before…”

“No, I’ve seen them before!”

“Wait, no—*we’ve* seen them before.”

While the "crowd" argued about what to do with Cassie and her companions, three sudden voices emerged from the back of the group. Each vied for attention, insisting on their own version of events.

The "crowd" parted to reveal a tall figure draped in a trench coat and wide-brimmed hat stepping forward.

As the figure bent toward the panicked group by the bar, sharp voices continued to echo from within.

“I remember—that shiny-nosed guy touched my coat earlier!”

“It’s called a nose piercing, you idiot!”

“Why is it called a nose piercing and not an ear piercing or mouth piercing?”

“Because it’s on the nose!”

“Why does being on the nose make it a nose piercing?”

“Because that’s just what it’s called!”

“Why…”

“Shut up! This isn’t the time for this nonsense. Clearly, these people followed us into the bar!”

The last voice silenced the argument and continued.

“So, what do we do now?”

The figure’s words ignited a flicker of hope in Cassie and her friends’ despair-filled eyes.

“Why help them?”

However, another voice from the figure promptly extinguished that hope.

“Exactly. That guy touched me first!”

“If we’re choosing, I want the pierced-nose guy…”

The body under the trench coat twisted unnaturally as eager voices emerged.

As the figure’s words trailed off, the surrounding "crowd," which had briefly dispersed, closed in again, their eager expressions directed at Cassie and her companions.

“I only stepped away from the bar for a moment.”

A resigned sigh cut through the murmurs.

The "crowd" erupted into a panic.

“The boss is back!”

“Damn it, we were so close!”

“I don’t want to stick around and die…”

Under Cassie’s shocked gaze, the figure shed its trench coat, revealing three grotesque, terrified dwarves underneath. The towering figure had merely been an illusion created by the dwarves standing atop one another.

With sharp cries, the dwarves scrambled away, disappearing in an instant.

In their place stood a tall figure clad in a crimson suit.

“This isn’t a place for you.”

The dim light of the bar obscured the figure’s face, making their features impossible to discern.

Swirling the wine glass in their hand, the figure caused the crimson liquid inside to shimmer mesmerizingly in the light.

Cassie felt their gaze sweep over her and her companions.

“It’s time for you to return to reality.”

With those cryptic words, the figure snapped their fingers.

**Snap—**

...

The next moment, the dim bar was replaced by the dark stillness of the night.

“Isn’t this the same alley?”

Looking around at the familiar yet unsettling surroundings, Martin murmured.

“So… we’re safe?”

Ian quickly scanned their surroundings at Martin’s words, then shoved Burt—whom he had been clutching—away with a disgusted expression.

“Can someone explain what just happened?”

As fear gradually subsided, Burt, the pierced-nose man, asked the group in a trembling voice.

“…”

The group remained silent, unable to respond.

Susan lay unconscious on the cold, rough concrete, ignored.

Cassie, however, stood frozen, staring blankly at the alley wall where the bar had once been.

There, nothing remained of the strange, otherworldly bar.

*(End of Chapter)*