Dog Flight: And Other Short Horror Stories by D. T. Adams

Author:D. T. Adams [Adams, D. T.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-04-30T00:00:00+00:00

***

Michael should have expected this to happen. As he opened the door to his flat, he saw the man from his vision standing there. He got a fright at first, but the fear quickly turned to frustration. The night had been much better than expected and he didn’t want the memory of it to be marred by this mental anomaly.

‘You have less than a day,’ the man said, his tone serious.

‘You know what? Fine! If you want me to go and kill some ghost, I’ll do it. Just tell me where.’

The man eyed Michael in silence.

‘Come on then, tell me so I can stop you pestering me.’

‘You ought to dispose of him for the right reason, and that is so you can move on. Remember that.’

‘If you really want me to kill him, tell me where he is,’ Michael demanded with impatience.

‘Your favourite haunt, of course.’

The man disappeared and Michael decided he wasn’t going to dawdle. He had to see if this was real or not. He left his flat and knew immediately that the illusory man was referring to The Crypt. It was an underground bar that was popular with students. Every night of the week the place was packed with older teens and people in their early twenties getting in various states of drunkenness, dancing like maniacs, jabbering away about completely random things and frolicking about without a care in the world.

The Crypt was the bar that Michael used to go to the most while at university. No matter where he started the night, he would more often than not end up there. The place had a great reputation thanks to its ridiculously cheap drinks. He hadn’t set foot in the bar in many years and he imagined the drinks wouldn’t be so generously priced now.

It was Thursday evening and if the bar’s popularity had not waned, it would be full of students. If this phantom did exist, finding him would be a nuisance of a task.

Even though it was quite close to where Michael lived, he hadn’t walked past the place in many years – he couldn’t remember when he last saw the blaring sign and the stairs leading to the bar below.

As he neared it, he wondered whether it had changed or whether, like him, it had stayed the same.

The sign was different. The stairs had been given an upgrade. The biggest change was in the name: it was no longer The Crypt and was now The Bunker. There must be new management or something.

There was a short queue of people a decade or so younger than Michael waiting to get in, with two bouncers checking IDs and keeping their eyes out for any troublesome acts.

Down by the side of the building that housed the bar was the alley where Michael had had one or two lucky encounters with the opposite sex. It was common for two people who were physically attracted to each other, not to mention drunk out of their minds, to nip down the alley and get to know each other a bit better.

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