It’s New Year’s Eve, and the landlord is polishing his glasses. Unlike the rest of the pubs in the area, this one is devoid of customers. Anyone who would have stumbled onto this pub would have probably been confused and enquired if it was open.

It was open, but only to a particular crowd. To find this pub, you had to be part of that particular crowd. The first of which was about to arrive. The landlord glances to the side entrance which leads to a stable. The lights were dimming in that direction. The bony fella, first as always and on time.

“I will have my usual, please.” The landlord nods and opens a box that contains a jug of liquid that looks like it had flecks of starlight floating in it. He then grabs a mug that looks to be made of bone and pours a measure of the liquid in and puts it on the bar.

“I assume you will settle up now for the whole night?”

“Yes.” This man always paid the entire tab for the party up front and it was always right. Which might sound like the same was ordered every time, except it was not. Sometimes damage was accrued to the furnishings and the landlord would have to attach the charges that came of that. Yet, the proper amount was always paid at the beginning of the evening. “I will proceed to set up the pieces for the game.” The landlord nodded. This was the same as always. The same every time. The same since……. The landlord shook himself. No need to remind himself how long it had been.

The candles surrounding the main entrance suddenly flared. The landlord sighed. This man was always the second to arrive. He was the reason that the tab always came to a large total. He was generally a happy man. But the landlord always wearied of him before the evening was out. For everything had to be dramatic where this man was concerned. Ordering a drink, playing the game, and maybe trashing the pub if it didn’t go his way. Fortunately, he would always leave a tip, on top of the first man paying the tab. Always profitable.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Landlord, how good to see you! I have the frothiest of your beer! Perhaps a snack if you have any!” Always a bloody statement when a word or two would bloody suffice. He began to pour the beer out.

“We have no snacks. We always have no snacks. Here is your beer.” Not the most gracious of greetings, but something about the man always rubbed him the wrong way. Although, compared to the last guy, that always came……. All of a sudden, the last man was at the bar, making the landlord jump. Always the bloody same! This man was dangerous. Oh he was always polite and charming, but the senses of the landlord screamed at him that in front of him was a mask, and what was behind the mask was dangerous.

“Landlord, how lovely to see you as always. My usual please.” The man was suddenly holding his usual. The landlord could never figure out how it was always just like that. He watched as they went over into the corner where the first man had set up the game. He watched as they began to play. All of a sudden, Midnight would strike.

“This year’s game goes to the man in red.” Uttered the man in black who had been monitoring the game. The loser, suddenly enshrouded in light, kicked a chair, breaking it and threw a purse at the landlord and stormed out.

“Well, it looks like this year could be fun. Man, are you going to be busy on your white horse. Gotta dash” So saying he vanished as quickly as he had arrived, leaving the landlord and his first guest alone in the pub. The cloaked man leaves by the door closest to the stable. The landlord shuddered. At least it was over for another…... The landlord frowned, trying to remember how long it had been. As the first rays of the sun hit the pub, it began to fade out of sight, as if it had never been there.