Alright, I have to be completely honest with you. The witch’s coven, had to be one of the weirdest places in Bournemouth. And that is saying something. Paul’s raving about it being the place to check out was a little heavy handed, but he won over Silvia, and she had hounded me day and night till I finally relented. God knows I didn’t want to be there, the thought of the crowd made me feel uneasy. Even more so because I was such a bloody jinx.

The club I will admit was quite cool, the entire vibe it gave off was dark and edgy and with a hint of mystical, plants and props, effigies carved into stone, hanging talismans and the likes, with different lighting and a lot of dry ice. The dancefloors were understandably packed with people elbow to elbow trying to gyrate in some sort of rhythm to the dance music thrumming throughout. I sipped my beer and looked around, three floors up and still busy, I glanced around, I wasn’t all that into people watching because of a few personal issues I had to contend with daily, so I just tried to be present, soaking in the atmosphere.

Alright, fine, I had no fucking clue what I was doing. There especially.

“Here’s to finally dragging Jack out from behind his desk, it only took six months.” I wrinkled my nose at this. This would have been the fourth time Paul had celebrated this fact since he started drinking a little earlier. Sylvia smiled, and held her drink up clinking the bottles together, I joined in out of obligation.

“To the first night of many.” She added, levelling her gaze at me.

Not bloody likely, but it’s nice to get out now and then. I thought somewhat morosely. I looked around at the staff carrying trays filled with vials for shot glasses, and a smoking cauldron at the centre of each, which I could only assume would be filled with loose change? I didn’t envy anyone trying to get a job at this place, there was clearly harsh vetting process to make sure that everyone working had a dancer’s grace not to mention their top physiques. The male and female staff were honestly, almost otherworldly with their looks, which of course helped with the hole “Witch’s coven” theme I supposed. Spooky.

“Your turn to get the drinks in Jack!” Paul sang during one of the few lulls of the music. He looked to Sylvia then back to me with an expectant look. I took the hint, I really did, I knew he wanted me to go so he would have a chance to sweet talk Sylvia, because he clearly had not otherwise had the opportunity to. Being the gentleman that I am I began to stand up when a waitress manifested from behind me, along with a tray of beers.

“Beers?” she offered, the grey and blue haired petite beauty was dotted with various piercings and either face tattoos or makeup showing the moon in its various cycles across her forehead.

“That would be amazing thanks, and just how many piercings do you have?”

“You’re a little direct don’t you think?” She said quirking a brow and smiling.

“I have been known to be a little direct at times. I’m sorry if I offended you?” She watched me for a moment, then relaxed. Setting down three beers she held out a card reader which I promptly tapped with my phone.

“It’s fine. And to answer your question I shall first ask you one of my own. It’s only fair right?”

This brought a smile to my face, and I nodded.

“Please do.”

“Why haven’t you told your friend here that you are not interested in her, instead of leading her on?” My eyes went wide, and I looked suddenly to Sylvia whose cheeks had gone a little red even under the teal lighting.

“That’s not-” I started when she butted in.

“-Sorry, I have been known to be a little direct at times.”

That was a little out of order and, not entirely true.

“Is it true that you guys gotta be psychic to get a job here?” Paul asked either having missed what was being said or just trying to actively change the subject. Our waitress looked to him, cocking her head to one side.

“No. But it helps.” She offered.

“I love it. It’s like one of those RP bars that I looked up on Reddit.”

“I’ll take your word for it man, it is a nice place though.” I grumbled.

“Thank you human.” The waitress said, her contacts flashing under the mood lighting.

I was thinking of something witty to say when some commotion to our left caught our tables attention, and when I turned back our waitress had bolted.

“Alright, that was actually well timed.”

“What was?” Sylvie asked looking back from where two dude bros had collided spilling beer and looking all huffy.

“The waitress, don’t you think?”

“I don’t get what you mean.” Paul joined in looking a little ruffled. He was pulling some sort of face, and still wanting me to vacate the table by the look of things, so I took a sip from one of the bottles of beer and stood up.

“Be right back.” I said. Giving Paul a flat stair.

You do you bud. Good luck.

The place was heaving, the queue outside took us the best part of fifteen minutes to wade through, and when we did get to the door, we were met by what could only be described as sexy gorillas. Two bulky guys one just shy of seven feet the other shorter and stocky but he moved like his spine was fused, teetering around like a child’s toy. Each had one contact in that flashed under the noxious green light given off by the neon cauldron around the door.

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“You look lost.” A silky voice purred from just behind me. “And it seems you are falling behind your friends a bit.” I turned a little startled to see our waitress from before inches from me.

“Hey again, you know you never answered my question.”

“And you didn’t answer mine.” Her smile was coquettish. I wanted to scowl, but she elicited a laugh from me instead.

“Fair. Fine, I have not been leading her on, I told her from the get-go that I am too cursed to start anything.”

“Cursed, funny choice of words in a place like this?” She beamed.

“Yeah, the irony was not lost on me.”

“She still seems to think otherwise.”

“Well, I did agree to come out with her and Paul.”

“You other friend who clearly has a thing for her too?” I nodded.

“So, you are in a love triangle? That must be fun right?”

“Nah it ain’t no love triangle.” I said in a thick west country accent.

“What accent was that just then?”

“Bristolian, sorry. I slip right into farmer Giles mode now and then.”

“It’s cute, farm-boy.” She stuck her tongue out a little and more piercings appeared making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I don’t want to sound like some repressed 17th century noble, but I was having some quite impure thoughts at that moment in time.

“So, about your piercings…” She rolled her eyes and smiled again.

“Fifteen that I can show ...” She paused to study me as I processed this news, I assume this had the effect she wanted as she tittered.

“Your face is something right now.”

“Cheers, it is one of the few things my birth parents left me that I am grateful for.”

“Shit, that sounds heavy, now I feel like I could do with a shot, what do you say farm-boy, wanna do a shot with me?”

“No, thank you though, one of us has to keep their head about them. Especially in this cave filled with monsters.”

“Monsters?”

“Monsters.” I said with a smirk. It hit me then. I winced, as prickling cold crept over me, my vision lost focus, and I began to see images.

“Please excuse me.” I said, pushing past, and looking for the bathroom or smokers’ area, whatever was closest. Colours and swirls of thoughts and feelings began to press in on me, it was enough to turn my stomach. Every single time I was gifted one of these visions I was knocked around a little, it was like being in two places at once, and just when you start to get used to the idea you are brought back throwing you off again. Ugh. This one was different than any I had before though. The first part was a flash of the outside, this club being the place, next was a glimpse inside it kind of felt like now, or soon at least, followed by where and by what. This beautiful fragile looking red head was about to get dragged into a room, outback by some messed up meat suit, eyes black and red. Followed by screams and blood. A lot of blood. I could taste it. I looked around the room for what could be the cause of my vision, the victim or the perpetrator. My pulse immediately began to hike.

Just another fun filled night, coulda stayed in but oh no my gut said I should go out, I should have a good time. Fucking dumbass that I am.

We were on the third floor, the bass was thrumming, now I needed to know if it was this floor or not, or if I was going to be running up and down several flights of stairs over the coming minutes. I closed my eyes and went over the details.

Second floor. My gut told me. It was usually right. I pressed pass some club goers, some in worse states than others, under the low lighting a few hands fished seeking to find purchase on my person.

Everyone gets handsy when they have one too many drinks. Just focus man.

I passed by the occasional couple getting hot and heavy finding a popular spot being the stairwell, I smirked.

Get out the bloody way love birds. I grizzled. The song changed in tempo and volume as I hit the second floor. More of the stunning staff pirouetted their ways around carrying drinks dodging advances and searching touches. Another prerequisite to be hired, a well known sixth sense. Impressive. I mean I had my ass grabbed at least twice in the past two minutes. And that’s exactly what it was because my cash was in a money clip in a little RFID blocking pouch tucked in a body wallet holstered to one side. I ain’t getting none of my pockets picked.

I know by this point you are probably saying to yourself, or did a while ago, if you have visions like that why not tell the police? Or the club security, and that is simple, it usually happens too soon to have finished explaining to not come across as an accomplice. The fallout wasn’t worth it. Fuck that. Deal with it, move on.

Dear lord, the sheer amount of Chad’s in this place… Male and female. Look I am sure they are decent people but when you are out and about dressing like you have just been dicking, I am going to mentally cordon you off as a deviant. And then I saw him. A guy who stood out like a sore thumb. A sore thumb with an aura of blood, mixed in a muddy puddle.

Thanks again gifts. It usually took me some time to focus and look at one’s aura, but when my gift was working the subject of the matter stood out on occasion, providing they were corporeal, and thank God for that, because if I had to open my sight, I would have been blinded by the sheer amount of lust desperation, and sadly a lot of loneliness to. Freaking crowds. Freaking people.

The figure started making a press through the people slipping by with nary a glance.

“Shit.” I tried to move faster, but groups of people kept getting in the way, I could feel my blood pressure rising.

Right then, time for another of my “gifts” I was over six foot four, and though I am not a gym rat I am quite well built. Though after hitting thirty, I may have been a little softer in some areas than others. I could have pushed myself through, but I didn’t want to draw any attention my way, so I focused on being unremarkable. It’s like imagining being beige.

Don’t none of you bastards look at me. I thought repeatedly, as I stilled my outward emotions. One of the downsides of using said gift was that I got a tremendous headache after, that would have me drinking water will I passed out on my living room armchair.

“Water” you say? Yeah water. You think booze is going to help you have a cluster headache? Caffeine? Nicotine? I just tell myself I am dehydrated; look don’t question the theory to my madness a lot of the dumb shit I seem to be able to do is based on my beliefs, okay? My intuition, and if it’s telling me to drink plenty of water you can bet your ass, I am going to do just that. Don’t question all shit, sometimes just do. Simple.

Right before you distracted me, I was cutting a swathe across the dancefloor, while the figure I pursued was slipping past security staff unmolested.

The fuck, he like me? Or does he work here? My gut said the first, because not one of the staff even gave him a cursory glance, too busy showing off tattoos or pointing out the local talent… alright that wasn’t fair, most door staff may act that way, but like I said, the staff in this place were different. I approached and for a moment I thought they were going to see and stop me, so I doubled down.

Beige, boiled eggs, bread, paper. Going to my niece’s school harvest festival performance. They kept on looking past me. I slipped past and started to run down the corridor. There was the sound of some commotion and a door slamming.

Shite was I too late? I thundered down the corridor spotting the familiar door. Which had blood starting to pool out from underneath it.

Shit. I was too late.