Fearsome Friday

Happy Friday everyone – and the Friday of a long weekend at that! Here’s to hoping this May 2-4 stays sunny and hot, ushering in our short yet savoured summers. Thanks for stopping by to check out this week’s Fearsome Friday.

“God what a crazy night, I can’t believe so many people called in. Lazy long-weekend assholes,” Becky laughed, putting up the last few chairs in the bar while Dave counted his tips from the night.

“Yeah, but at least it meant more money for us,” he winked, fanning out his twenties.

“True. God I can’t wait to get out of here. I took off the next couple days, patios here I come,” Becky’s laugh tinkled  in the empty bar.

“I’m gonna change and I’ll help with the chairs, ” Dave said, disappearing into the back.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you will,” Becky muttered, shaking her head but smiling, hoping Dave would ask her out for a drink after he was changed.

A moment later, the lights went out, the only light the red emergency sign and light by the doors.

“Hey! Dave! Not funny!” Becky yelled, annoyance colouring her tone. He knew how freaked out she got here by herself after close.

Becky felt her way along the bar, fingers light on the just-wiped and wet bar top.  A chair behind her fell and she jumped, squinting in the dark.

“Dave? You can come out now,” Becky said, trying to sound teasing. She didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle a joke. The bar music came on, the late night bass echoing. Becky’s throat tightened, her heart speeding up as she spun towards the music system, far from the chair that had toppled.

“Dave?” her voice shook and she moved to the back of the restaurant, trying to find her coworker.  

She saw a figure dart around the corner, the shadow bouncing on the far wall, under the emergency light. She heard deep laughter and sighed in relief. She could play games too.

“Dave, I’m gonna get you!” she laughed, running towards the light, music reverberating in her chest as she skidded around the corner, staring at the empty hall. The music stopped and she could hear footsteps from the bar again. 

“You owe me  a drink when I catch you buddy,” she yelled, following the retreating sound of steps. She slowed when she reached the bar area once more, feeling her way along the barstools. Squinting, she could make out Dave, sitting at the table where he had just counted his night’s earnings. 

“How about that drink?” Becky said, her voice low. About a foot away she slipped in a puddle, cursing the cleaning staff as she fell on her ass. 
“Thanks for the help; what’s your problem?” she muttered, pulling herself up when Dave didn’t move to help.

When she was standing, the lights came back on, and Becky could see her friend, propped against the bar, a knife sticking out of his chest. Blood dripped from him rhythmically, forming the pool Becky had just slipped in.

Becky screamed, the sound echoing in the empty restaurant as she read the note attached to the knife, “Tag, you’re it.” 

Thanks for reading, see you next Friday!

 

 

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