Summer sighed. Harry was a trouble maker with a capitol T. Summer watched as Harry sauntered up to the bar for a beer and started flirting with the new girl. The new girl giggled. Harry wrapped his arm around her waist and just about carried her onto the dance floor. The new girl didn’t have a clue Summer thought as she watched the girl’s boyfriend glancing around for her.
Summer grabbed her purse, left her table and tucked herself into a corner. Better to be safe than injured, she smirked.
The new girl took Harry’s hand and brushed closer to him.
Harry was quite the looker, and he used it to his advantage, but his main goal was to fight as many men as he could and come out of the fights the winner. The notches on his belt were from bar fights, not how many women he could get into his bed.
Summer glanced at the new girl’s boyfriend and the look of disgust written all over his face. She grinned, waiting for the fun to begin. She glanced around at the other customers. Some of them were real flesh and blood. Some were spirits who had died in this bar. She couldn’t figure out why they hadn’t closed down this place for good, there had been multiple killings here over the years.
Of course, the bar would actually close and a new one would open in its place. Same bar, same place, always a different name.
She spotted a gorgeous brunette walking through the crowded room, her head held high. She wore an old white and pink brothel dress, her hair was pulled back in a braid, blood seeped out of a hole in her chest and ran down her clothing. Bullet or stab wound? Summer wondered. A cowboy with dark sandy hair winked at her and tugged her onto the dance floor. Half of his back was missing, the other half riddled with bullet holes. This was the reason Summer always visited this particular bar, the ghosts gave her great ideas for her short stories.
She refocused her eyes onto the new girl and the fight she knew was only a few minutes away. She quickly picked out two names to give that particular couple in her story. Paul and Linda fit their profiles perfectly.
Summer noticed the new girls other half think differently on the matter of her flirtatious ways. Halfway through the dance he grabbed his girl and challenged Harry to a fight. His friends stood behind him, as if to threaten Harry.
Harry’s friends gathered around too, knives were drawn and the fight ensued.
Summer knew the frenzy would escalate fast so she made herself more comfortable in the corner, out of the way of flying glasses and furniture. She had a perfect view of the brawl.
Dead poker players grabbed Summer’s attention for a brief second. Money flowed as bets were made on who would win the fight and who would die.
Both gangs went for each-other’s throats. Friends and foes were beaten and stabbed. The band stopped playing, furniture was demolished, and bottles were broken for use as weapons. By the end of the fight the bar was trashed beyond belief. People either lay unconscious on the floor or had taken refuge in the corners or behind fallen tables to tend to their wounds.
Thrashed, Harry lost his battle with the knives edge that the boyfriend still held in Harry’s throat fiercely. Harry fell to the floor. All of the members of both gangs were injured, including the girls boyfriend.
But Summer didn’t care about the living, her eyes were glued on Harry. She watched as Harry’s spirit abruptly departed from his body. Blood flowing from multiple stab wounds stained his ratted shirt and torn jeans. A hole gaped in his throat where the knife had been. He winked at her before slowly disappearing. All Summer could think was, another one bites the dust. She heard sirens in the distance. Too bad, the night had been fun. She held her purse tight around her shoulder and drifted out the front door.