Hounds of Hell Awaiting

“I’ll have another Max.” Max is the bartender of this shitty little tavern. Not that I’m complaining ’cause they’ve got plenty of booze. That’s all I want right now, something to take the edge off. I can hear them outside the bar just beyond the doors. Heavy breathing, the occasional whimper. These hounds want me bad.

Walking up to my spot Max says, “take it easy will you.” If only I could old buddy.

If only I could. Not that I’m going to tell him that though.

“Sure thing man, just keep a steady flow and I’ll try not to drink myself silly again.”

“You goddamned better slow it down Carl ’cause you might as well have been a cripple the other night. Had to carry you over to the couch myself and you know fucker, you know full well I don’t like letting people sleep it off in here like that.”

“I know, I know, I’ll take it easy tonight.” Hard ass. We’re supposed to be friends and he wants to bitch me out over passing out every now and then? The two-bit prick’s got no idea about my situation though. No way to know I’ve run out of time, and even if he did… he wouldn’t really know what that means. I’ve only got a vague idea myself and I’ll tell ya…

I’m sitting right here for as long as I can, middle of the bar where I’m surrounded by everybody else in here. Where there are plenty of warm bodies between me and the beat up wooden doors. Plenty of witnesses to keep the hounds at bay.

Never should have struck that deal.

The least I could have done was take a closer look at the wording for Christ’s sake. Then maybe I wouldn’t be stuck with a one way ticket to the pit or been set to take that ride with those goddamned beasts out there. Can’t imagine it feels good to be torn apart, and it’s in their eyes, I swear it is. That’s exactly what the bastards want to do.

Mephistopheles must want me in pieces before the night’s over.

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(MDM)