It’s cold outside tonight…but that doesn’t matter to the patrons of The Barnhouse. The warm lights, plentiful drinks and the press of people make it perfect weather for a night of dancing. The dresses twirl and the people sway.
“Come on in,” says the doorman with a smile, “Have a great night!”
People’s faces are flushed with drink; smiles and laughter are shared all around.
The doorman shivers with the cold. “Welcome,” he says, “Enjoy The Barnhouse.” He smiles to everyone, but it never reaches his eyes.
Some smiles fade as the night goes on. Drinks are traded for pills…smiles come back, and the people sway.
The doorman’s eyes are searching, always searching – soon, he sees what he’s been watching for.
“Sorry, we’re closed.”
The man gives a friendly smile and peers past the doorman. “But it’s still early! You’re not full, surely…be a pal!”
“We don’t serve your type here,” The doorman’s smile had disappeared, his eyes now a hard stare.
“Alright, then, I didn’t want to have to show this,” says the man, pulling papers from his pocket, “This warrant allows me to search this premesis, on suspicion of…illicit activity. You are required to let me in.”
The doorman’s eyes glinted and he flashed a predatory smirk. “Of course, sir. We have a side-entrance just this way.”
The sound echoed through The Barnhouse, and the people ground to a stop. Murmurs passed through the crowd.
The doorman came in, flashing his usual smile. “Nothing to worry about,” he called out cheerfully, “Just a car backfiring.”
The dresses twirled, the people swayed and the music played on.
Outisde, the man shivered. It was cold, so cold. The wind bit painfully at the wound in his chest. He watched as the air frosted with his final breath.