Prompt 7 -
Word Limit: 2000 words.
Word Count: 1102 words.
Warning: Coarse language.

👻🎃

★★★

The Vagabond

The streets were wet with last nights rain, leaving intricate designs throughout the many sidewalk cracks.

Denny always strolled into the pub on the corner of Federation Road every Friday night. His goal was always the same - to get piss drunk.

Today wasn't any different except he was in an extra bad mood.

Every day he willed himself to get through the work week so he could succumb to his depression at the bottom of several spirit bottles.

He presented the perfectly put together businessman during work hours, always showed up on time and ensured he did it with a smile even if it never matched his eyes.

None of his colleagues knew the dark truth behind the facade and the broken man that dwelled beneath the surface.

Even he himself could barely come to terms with the way his life was now.

Everything had gone downhill since that fateful night five years ago and he had never recovered. Not that he had even attempted to. He chose the booze over therapy, as if numbing the pain was far easier than healing it.

As he sat down on the very same bar stool as the previous weeks, he looked over at the bartender and held his hand up for his usual while he placed his hard earned cash atop the bar.

"Don't you think it's time you quit, buddy?" The man asked as he walked over to Denny, barely batting an eyelash at the cash on the counter.

"I don't pay you to suggest things," Denny grumbled with a shake of his head, not in the mood for the man's attitude.

"I'll never quit," he mumbled as an afterthought as he looked up at the wall with a blank stare.

After all these years, he could recount everything that was displayed on the ugly purple walls.

The same old photographs of sporting events and the neo-green sign that said 'Striped Arrow' that depicted the name of the pub.

The place had stayed exactly the same just like he had.

"All right then," the man drawled in a slow voice as he grabbed the cash and went to pull down one of the bottles from the top shelf.

"You know, you could singlehandedly fund my entire business," the man continued with a chuckle.

"Good, at least someone's life can be better," Denny muttered as he opened the bottle and took a large swig of it.

"Uh, fuck me it burns," he commented after coughing for a second.

"You think you'd be used to it by now," chuckled the owner with a disapproving shake of his head.

"Never," Denny grumbled back and took another large gulp of the bottle as his fingers tightened around the neck of it.

His pale fingers had started turning a reddish-white colour from the pressure.

"Slow down or I'll have to kick you out early tonight," the man responded as he stared down at Denny.

"You wouldn't dare, Rocky." He responded with a growl.

"Watch me," Rocky threatened as he walked away to serve another customer.

It was several more minutes of Denny chugging away before the bottle was empty and he had laid his head down on the cold counter as he attempted to cool himself down.

He cared little for the stickiness of the grim surface and enjoyed the intoxicating smell of alcohol entering through his nostrils with great pleasure.

"That's it, mate, you're cut off. Go home and sleep it off," Rocky stated as he approached him once more.

"No, more," Denny mumbled his demand with his face still on the bar as he ruffled through his pockets for more cash.

"I told you, you're finished for the night. Come on, big boy, time to get up," Rocky responded as he came around the bar and went to help pull him off the bar stool.

"But I don't wanna go," Denny slurred as he accepted the help and they began walking towards the exit.

"Well, tough tits. I am tired of seeing you like this," murmured Rocky with a sad look on his face.

"It's been five years, man, it's time to move on from whatever is eating at ya'."

"I can't," Denny's barely audible voice replied as tears began brimming in his blue eyes.

"Well at least cut down on the drinking or you'll land yourself into an early grave. I don't wanna see that," Rocky commented as they walked outside.

The chilly air greeted them and it seemed to comfort Denny in a way. The way it nipped at his ears and tugged at his clothing.

"I don't deserve to be here..." He mumbled out as he stumbled onto the bench outside the pub.

"Go home," Rocky stressed, "You'll feel a little better in the morning."

"Fine," he huffed back as he stood up again on unsteady feet and began walking off down the street.

Denny kicked away a stray empty can as he continued down the footpath.

"Be careful!" Rocky shouted after him but eventually, Denny's figure became blurred in the distance as it mixed with the dark sky.

The owner retreated back into his pub with a deep seed of concern inside of his mind but he couldn't leave his pub unintended for one drunk fool.

In the morning, Denny was forced awake by the jarring sight of the nearly risen sun which only accentuated the pounding in his skull.

Goosebumps formed on the back of his neck when he suddenly felt eyes on him.

His own eyes caught sight of the stranger and they widened in shock and terror.

There stood his worst nightmare in the flesh: a clown in tatted whimsical clothing. The man was staring down at him with a creepy yet intrigued smile.

Denny jerked up into a sitting position, "Piss off. I ain't got time for the likes of ya'."

The clown only laughed back in return as he waved in an eerie fashion.

"Shoo!" Denny screamed as he put his arms out and then winced from the pain in his head.

"A little birdy told me you need some cheering up, hehe," the clown continued as he grinned back at the hungover man and tooted the almost broken horn in his hand.

"I'm fine," the drunk grumbled back, waving the clown off as he began to stand up.

"I'll make it all better," the clown commented as he grabbed Denny's arms.

"No," he replied as he struggled to break free from the other man's grip.

"Don't worry now, I've got you."

The clown stated with a laugh as he tugged Denny into a different direction than that of his home.

They disappeared around the corner of a new street and neither were ever seen again.

©️©️©️

I hope you all enjoyed this take on the prompt!

I don't really like clowns - and just like Denny - they are my worst nightmare.

If I am ever writing about one, just know they will be creepy as hell...

What do you all think about the way I ended this mini story?

Please let me know all of your thoughts down below. ♡

Please vote if you liked this!

Until next time,

©️ Elishia C. Xalfa ♡