CaNdY

The atmosphere was somewhat less than cheery. In fact it was almost what one could consider to be depressing. A constant haze filled the bar, it was second hand smoke, lung cancer whisping about, leaving its seed in the lungs of those in its path. Charlie’s was the sort of place a man could go to cheat on his wife and score big in a poker match at the same time. The floors were sticky and coated with years of filth and grime. There was no music, with the exception of the clinking of glasses the shuffling of chairs, mixed with the constant murmur of voices.

Every now and then someone would slip a coin into the juke box and play a tune, but the majority of the people there, weren’t there for its entertainment values. This particular hangout had a reputation for being a little on the rough side, little being the understatement. The only people who hung out at Charlie’s were hookers, crooks, and killers.

The bar tender was a woman about mid-thirties with an eye patch over her right eye. She had dark red hair that looked faker than hooker’s breasts. Her face was long and slender, her lips were almost non-existent. The only thing that set her apart from the rest of the trash was her green apron with the name ‘TRISH’ embroidered in the center.

A blonde woman sat in one of the booths in the back of the place. Her hair was uneven and wild, the opposite of her face, which was cold and stern. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of red mirror sunglasses. Her lips were full and painted cherry red.

A tall slender woman with long black hair crawled onto the stage and the already dim light cut off with the exception of a few lights facing the stage. Her eyes were golden framed in a thick layer of eye liner. Her heels clicked loudly against the wood floor. Her breasts were far too large for her body. She swayed her hips as some slow music came on. Her black lacey brassiere and matching thong left nothing to the imagination.

She started to dance, flaunting her chest and moving her hips suggestively. The men in the club began to drool on themselves as she began to mouth the words of the song as she ran her hands over her abdomen and down her thighs. The woman stepped down and walked around the tables stopping and teasing several men as she slowly made her way to the back to the blonde woman. The brunette climbed onto the blondes table and sat up on her knees.

The blonde didn’t so much as flinch when the other woman ran her fingers threw her choppy hair.

The brunette leaned in and licked the blonde’s cheek and whispered in her ear. The blonde remained emotionless. The brunette pulled back and ran her nail across the blonde’s cheek as she looked into the blondes glasses.

“Dance with me and lets show these boys a good time love…”

“I don’t think so…” the words seemed to flow from the blonde’s lips like poison. Her voice was laced with a cool anger.

“What’s your name love?” The brunette was faking a heavy French accent.
The blonde brought her hand from under the table and swiped a knife across the woman’s throat faster than she had to react.

“Candy.”

The brunette tried to scream but it came out more of a sickening gurgle as blood oozed from both her mouth and the gash in her throat. She fumbled back and squirmed on the floor as she flung blood all over the floor.

Candy pushed the table over and pulled out a large hand gun and aimed it at the wriggling girl’s head. All the men and even the bar tender seemed to be stunned.

Two large men from a poker game stood up and cracked their fists. One was dressed in a white tank with cut off shorts and a raggedy bandana, the other was wearing a leather jacket and was a bit leaner. They both seemed to be missing quite a bit of teeth. They seemed to be growling.

“We’s don’ ‘preciate you’s taken’ out our fun there baby cakes.” The one in the tank top smirked at his own bad grammar. “So whatcha say you’s be a good little girl and climb your sweet ass up on the stage and take her place. If you take off some of ‘dem cloths we might consider a tip even.”

The blonde re-aimed her gun to the man in the tank top and shot the whiskey glass out of his hand.

“The next one will make you unable to reproduce…” She took aim at the mans crotch.

The man yelled and jumped back as he looked at his hands several times, almost sure that he would find one of his fingers missing, but they were all there. The guy in the jacket sat back down in a hurry with his hands out in front of him like a peace offering.

The woman’s body grew still. Candy aimed her gun at the dead body and waited. The bar tenders hands slipped beneath the counter searching for the familiar metal shaft of her shotgun. This woman was going too far, not only was she harassing her paying customers, but she had just killed a woman dead right in the middle of HER bar.

Trish’s hand finally found what it was searching for, she quickly unlatched it and pulled it out.

“Alright Missy, I don’t want no trouble, so I think its best you leave before things get out’ a hand.” The bar tender had the gun cocked and aimed at Candy.
Candy still refused to move.

“I ain’t foolin’ around Miss, I’ve shot guys for less than cuttin’ up people in my bar.”
Suddenly the brunette’s body began to seizure.

“Oh Christ she’s still alive…” Trish thought she was going to toss her cookies.
Again the body stilled. Now there was a silence in the room. A crackling sound could be heard, it was the sound of bone cartilage stretching and breaking apart. The girl sat up and arched her back as she tried to breathe. Candy knew what was about to happen.

Soon the girl’s skin would start to feel as if it were on fire, she would scream and tear at her own chest until she had shredded her skin with her own finger nails.

Then just as the ghost would come through she would regain her human mind just long enough to feel the pain of death. Right on cue, the brunette’s chest began to bulge as she clawed at her bra, soon ripping it off. The ghost burst out and shrieked so loudly the men’s ears began to bleed.

Everyone in the bar dropped to their knees except Candy, who Trish now realized, was wearing ear plugs. The ghost was covered in blood, its white flesh hidden beneath bits of tissue stuck on its hooks that surrounded its small body. Candy knew that hesitation would prove fatal. Ghosts resembled small albino children with golden eyes.

Their appearance sometimes caused people to hesitate, that’s when they struck. Candy was not that ignorant. The Ghost screamed again showing its three rows of razor sharp teeth.

There was something odd about this one. As it stared straight into Candy’s glasses, it seemed to be probing her mind, like it could see through the mirrored reflection.

“Mary mother of Jesus!” Trish was on her feet and trembling. She couldn’t believe it. In HER bar…a Ghost. She took aim with her shot gun. She fired but missed. She was shaking to bad to be accurate. The ghost turned and faced Trish its golden eyes burning into her.

“Don’t move.” Candy said in a hushed voice. Trish couldn’t tell if she was talking to her or the Ghost, honestly she didn’t care. She looked to the ghost and then to the door leading into the back room. It was only about ten feet away. She had heard that Ghosts moved fast, but she was almost certain she could make it.

Don’t do it, you won’t make it three feet. Don’t be stupid. Candy knew that the bar tender was about to make the last mistake of her life.

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A/N: Warning this is a dark fic, those with weak stomachs please
exit the web page, thank you....But seriously if you don\'t like violence this isn\'t your thing. To all of you who like this story none the less, I would love to hear from you, Reveiw my story or Email me, maybe I send you a picture of CaNdY.

Love. Torne