21 June 2012
Music blasted from the speakers around the bar as he fixed a Krucifiction for the girl that had just wandered up to him. She looked to be barely legal, and dressed like she needed to be crucified. Flame red hair, short in the back and long in the front, hung over hazel covered eyes that were outlined in a little too much eyeliner. Her eyebrows were as black as her lipstick, obviously not a natural red head. She wore a strapless, shiny black dress that barely covered all the important parts. It didn't leave much for the imagination, but was still nice to look at as she leaned over the bar watching him. He knew from watching her on the dance floor that she was wearing a pair of red CFM heels that made her pale legs look longer. He finished mixing her drink and set it down in front of her, watching as she took a sip, her eyes never leaving his face.
"So," she drawled, "What’s your name?"
"Well, little lady," he said in an Irish accent, "my name is Minus, what's yours?"
"Selena."
"Well Selena, I don't believe I've seen you in here before, are you new in town?"
“You could say that," she swirled her glass and peeked up at him.
"Oh ya, so what brings a pretty girl like you all the way to Wolf Point, Montana? You look like the type of girl who thrives in the atmosphere of Los Angeles or some sort."
"Well, Minus, as it so happens I am from Los Angeles, and I'm just passin through. Why? Do I stand out?"
"Don't take it the wrong way love; we just don't get a lot of visitors all the way out here, that’s all."
The music continued to pulse through the room, different scents wafted through the air around them. Most people in the bar were dressed in cowboy boots and jeans. The town was made up of mostly ranch hands, cattlers, and herders. It was the largest town in the Fort Peck Indian Reservation, but it was still small with barely 3,000 people. Strangers as extravagant as this one were a rare commodity. Selena kicked back her drink, eyed him once more and wandered back onto the dance floor.
“So, who’s the new girl?” His brother Jonah walked up next to him, cleaning out a pitcher with a hand towel. He and his brother had moved from Ireland to Wolf Point six years earlier and opened up an Irish Pub.
“Her name’s Selena, she’s from Los Angeles. Said she’s passin through.”
“She must be lost then, this right here is the first stop to nowhere.” They laughed and turned to watch as the new girl slinked through the night crowd. She was attracting attention from every corner of the room as she stopped in front of an older fella with a beer gut and started to dance.
“Tell ya what though, I’ll bet ya anything she’s gonna cause all kinds of trouble before she leaves,” said Jonah, turning away to help a young couple that had just sat down.
Minus went into the back room to get another case of bottled beer and came back out in time to see another stranger walk through the door.
“Hey Jonah, check this out,” he nodded his head to the girl still standing in the doorway.
“Bloody hell, are we missing something? First we get Dracula’s bride on the dance floor, then Buffy comes in. I just hope they don’t know each other, I’d hate to have a fight on our hands,” shaking his head he turns to go into the back but Minus stops him, suddenly very serious.
“You don’t think she’s one of them do ya?” he says in an undertone.
“I don’t think so; I heard that they prefer big cities, more people ya know. But even so, we got Big Jake under the bar, that’ll make em think twice.” Louder he added, “Relax, it’s just college kids on break or something,” in retreated in the back leaving him to deal with Buffy.
A coffee-black, wide brimmed hat covered most of her face. An old, worn looking, black trench coat fell to the floor around her feet. Underneath the coat, she was wearing what looked like a corset with just one strap that came up over her left shoulder. A small cross hung around her neck, while a much larger one hung down to her navel, both silver. A black leather belt hung around her hips with a large silver belt buckle in the shape of a dragon. Leather pants enclosed shapely legs, and knee high combat looking boots with straps around the tops covered her feet and calves.
“Well hello there, what can I get for ya.” The girl sat down at the bar, facing the dance floor across the room. She left her hat on, strangely.
“I’ll have a screwdriver, hold the vodka please,” her voice was soft, but commanding, no tease or hesitation. Interesting.
“Hmm, alright love, but tell me,” he got a glass and started to fill it with ice and orange juice, “what brings a little girl like you, all the way out to the middle of nowhere, to the only Irish Pub in town, in the middle of the night, to get a nice tall glass of orange juice?” He set the glass down in front of her, and leaned against the bar watching her. She picked up the glass to take a sip and noticed that she had a black fingerless knuckles glove covering her left palm and thumb.
“Just passing through,” she said, setting the glass down.
“So where ya from?”
“Don’t bother carrying on idle chit chat with me Minus, I have proven to be a very boring conversation partner.”
He hesitated, “I never told you my name.”
“No need, it’s printed on the bottom of the picture of you and your brother on the wall,” she said bluntly, taking another sip.
“Aye, lass, but how do ya know that’s my brother, and that I’m Minus?” he asked, intrigued now.
“Because you’re twins and your name tag says Minus. Who’s the redhead giving the old man a heart attack?”
“I thought you said you were a boring conversation.”
“I am,” she said, setting down the glass with a definite snap, “you didn’t answer the question.” She lifted her head slightly and a got a glimpse of her eyes. One blue and one green. Freaky.
“Just a college kid from Los Angeles,” he said, going on the defensive, “who are you?”
“I’m passing through, and that’s no college kid.”
He turned around and froze. The old man with the beer gut was still sitting in his chair, his head tipped back and blood running freely down his chest and onto the floor. Everyone in the room was still as stone, frozen in fear as the redhead was standing right in front of him.
“You know,” she said, running a blood red nail down his face, “I always did have athing for foreigners.” The music suddenly shorted out and stopped, leaving the room in silence. A voice sounded behind him.
“Selena McKenzie, you have been charged with the murders seventeen men, twelve women, and eighteen children. By order of the US Government you have been sentenced to death.” Minus turned to see the Buffy girl standing and holding a big ass crossbow pointed in his direction. The red head snarled, fangs protruding from her mouth, blood dripping from her chin, and jumped over him, landing on the bar in front of the Buffy girl.
“And just who the fuck do you think you are, little girl? The governments own private assassin?” She trailed a finger across the blood on her chest and brought it up to her mouth.
“As a matter of fact,” she said, cocking the bow, “I am. My name is Van Helsing.” She brought up the bow and fired.
-to be continued
† Into the Night † • Opuss № I