Bob found himself walking down the street late at night. He was walking from a concert venue that hosted his favorite band that night. The band's lead singer had died a while back but was replaced by another singer who maintained the same vibe and energy. It was his first time seeing the band play live with the new singer, and it was worth it. The crowd went wild when they came on stage, and the mosh pit erupted. Bob had been drinking pretty heavily at the concert and knew he needed to UBER back home. The venue drinks were always ridiculously priced, and he was running low on funds after having as much as he did.

Bob decided that walking a little ways from the venue before ordering his UBER, would save him a bit of money. The normal rates around the venue were really expensive, especially when an event was going on. So walking a mile or two down the road would save at least ten bucks on the ride home. It was getting late in the evening and very few people were out. The weather was muggy this time of year, even in the evening, so it was understandable that the streets were almost empty.

As he was walking down the street, he stopped at an intersection. There was no traffic so he wasn't concerned about crossing, but he noticed a group of people hanging by an alley entrance on the other side of the intersection just a little ways down. They were obviously up to something, probably tagging the alley, or maybe waiting for someone to rob, so he decided instead of walking past them he would turn at the intersection and go around. Walking an extra block was no big deal, plus not getting robbed was always a plus.

He went to the left at the intersection, walked 1 block down, and planned on going right at the next intersection but stopped. The lights down the road he wanted to walk were all blinking on and off. It was a strange strobing pattern. It was a confusing pattern. The buildings on the street were mainly industrial storage or construction companies that didn't have a night shift. Bob figured with no one working around there at night, that's why the city hadn't fixed the lights yet. He stared at the lights for a bit, but couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. He didn't think the alcohol he drank was affecting him that much.

"That's weird," Bob said muttering to himself. "Whatever, this is getting kind of creepy."

He looked around at his surroundings, to the right were the creepy strobing lights, behind him at the last intersection was the group up to no good, he couldn't go left since it was a T intersection, his only choice was to keep going straight. Shrugging, Bob kept going straight, he was on high alert at this point and moved his knife to be more easily accessible. He chuckled to himself remembering getting patted down by the security guard. He knew he shouldn't have brought his knife with him, but it always comforted him knowing he had some small amount of protection at the ready.

The concert venue always had lazy security and it was very easy to sneak things in. To sneak his knife in, he would simply tuck it in between his belt and pants, at the center belt loop near the small of his back. None of the security even thought to check there. Most people would try and sneak in alcohol or drugs. A lot of them were successful, some got caught. Bob remembered a girl in line trying to hide a whole bottle of vodka under her boobs. She obviously got caught and wasn't allowed in, she also couldn't get a refund on the tickets either.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

His knife was from a veteran-owned company that specialized in spring-assisted blades. It was lethally sharp and was very special to him. He had gotten it when he was deployed overseas to Iraq during the war. He had to smuggle the knife back with him for some stupid reason. The military still had to abide by TSA rules even though they flew mostly on military aircraft. It made no sense. He remembered stowing the knife behind one of the plates in his body armor, that way the X-ray machines didn't register it. Many of his friends coming back did the same with their knives. They were good knives, and nobody wanted to give them up or worse, throw them away.

Bob realized he got a little lost in his thoughts, even though all the creepy shit was happening behind him. He shook his head to clear it. The alcohol did seem to be affecting him a little bit at least. He stopped walking and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. Pulling up the rideshare app, he checked the prices again. They were still more expensive than what he wanted to pay. He put his phone back in his pocket and looked around again. He was near another alleyway, but this one had light shining from it. Not very far in was a big door with a neon sign above it.

Bob's Bar.

"Well damn, I can't not stop there," he said.

It wasn't too late in the night that the bars would be closed, and after the weird stuff happening during his walk, he felt he could use a drink. He knew he probably shouldn't, but with a name like that he felt it was destiny. He looked down the alley before walking to the bar. There were a couple back doors to businesses, but no other lights on besides the bar sign. There were a couple of large trash bins overflowing with garbage, but other than that nothing else seemed to be down there. Thankfully the garbage was a good way down away from the bar door. Bob felt like the patrons wouldn't appreciate the smell of garbage before going in.

Bob walked up to the bar door, the first thing he noticed was the door was a very dark red. Or at least he thought it was, maybe the neon sign was making the color off. The second thing was the door was very solidly built, possibly metal or heavy wood, and was a little larger than standard doors. Strange designs were going along the outside of the door. They looked kind of Norse, maybe Celtic in design. It was a repeating pattern. As he looked closer, he thought he could see some words intertwined with the design. It was cool. The main thing that caught his attention though, was the metal sign, dead center on the door.

"One drink per customer."

"ONLY"

The word only was in all caps.

"Only one drink, it better be a damn good drink," Bob thought to himself. "It must be one of those themed bars that have been popping up all over the place."

There were a bunch of bars that decided to follow a themed model, some were pirate-themed, others like you were on a Subway, or ones like old speakeasies. They were pretty cool. Bob had wanted to go to one, just never really had the chance. They usually all required reservations.

"Well, fuck it," he said. "Might as well check this place out."