Leah's POV
As I walked into the Green Point Inn, everyone's head was turning at me.
I ignored the whistles and lewd talks, walking directly to the bar.
"I need Green Rabbit Old Ale," I told the bar attender.
"You don't belong here, young lady. Go back to where you belong." The bar attendant said without lifting his head. "We've got enough trouble for tonight."
"I'm not looking for trouble," I said. "I'm Uma and Damian's friend. I was at their funeral earlier this morning."
The bar attendant raised his eyebrows to look at me.
He was in his sixties. His face was etched with deep wrinkles that spoke of years of experience and wisdom. Despite his age, his eyes still sparkled with a keen intelligence that hinted at a life well-lived. His crisp white shirt was neatly tucked into a pair of dark slacks, and his polished leather shoes gleamed in the dim light.
"They died because of me. I have to do something," I held the edge of the counter and said.
The bar attender poured a glass of water and pushed it in front of me and said, "When people pass away, some people are sad and refuse to face reality by trying to blame themselves. This won't bring the dead ones back to life."
I said in a decisive voice, "I'm not sad. I'm angry. I want to do something to stop more people's lives being taken away."
"Anger leads to bad judgment, young lady. Why don't you drink some Kool-Aid so you can calm down a bit?" He pointed at the glass of water and said in a deep, sage-like voice.
I could sense that he was a man who had seen and done it all. His calm demeanor and steady gaze were reassuring, as if he had weathered countless storms and knew that everything would be alright in the end.
I became cross. His arrogance offended me. I hate it when people don't take me seriously.
So I said, "I'm not a kid and I'm not angry. I need to talk to someone who's in charge of this place and..."
"You're talking to him right now. I'm Frank Skakel and I'm in charge of everything between the ceiling and ground in this place," the old man said.
"No, I'm not looking for you. I'm looking for..."
I didn't finish my sentence before I heard a gunshot from the back of the bar.
The sharp crack of the gunshot shattered the drunken haze that had enveloped the bar, piercing through the smoky air and sending a shockwave of chaos rippling through the crowd.
Glasses and bottles clattered to the floor as patrons stumbled over each other in a frantic attempt to flee the scene. The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the panicked shouts of those trying to escape. Bodies jostled and collided, elbows and shoulders slamming into each other in a mad scramble for safety. The dimly lit bar was transformed into a frenzied battlefield, with panicked patrons dodging and weaving between overturned tables and chairs in a desperate bid to reach the door.
At that time, I saw a woman crawling out of a corridor, wearing nothing but a bra. She was covered in blood from head to toe. I couldn't even recognize the original color of her hair.
"Dead! He shot him! He blasted his head!" The woman screamed at the top of her lungs.
Then, I saw Darren walking out of the corridor, also covered in blood.
He looked surprised when he saw me.
"Leah? Why are you here?" he mumbled.
I approached him and held his arms in my hands.
"Darren, what happened?! Are you hurt?!" I panicked.
"I got some scratches. You should see the other guy." Darren said in a soothing voice.
"The other guy? Did you shoot someone?!" My eyes widened.
"He wanted to shoot me, but he ended up shooting himself," Darren said. "I'm fine, Leah. You don't need to worry about me."
At that time, the woman covered in blood jumped up and attacked Darren, yelling, "Fuck you! You fucking bastard! You almost got me killed! He was holding a gun at my head and you didn't even care! What if he had put a bullet in my head?! What if it was my head instead of his head that got blasted?!"
Darren dodged the woman's attack and pushed her away.
"Calm down, Ellie. I saved your life."
"Fuck you! You almost got me killed!"
As they were arguing, a tall dark figure charged out of the corridor, tripped, and stumbled, crashing to the floor as he tried to run on unsteady legs.
Then, I noticed something eccentric about this figure -
He didn't have a head.
...
The next thing I realized was that I was throwing everything I could get hold of at the dead corpse without a head, screaming and shouting at the same time.
Everyone in the bar panicked. They fled, crashing to the floor, while others pushed and shoved their way through the crowd, heedless of the harm they might cause in their haste.
Amidst the chaos, a few brave souls tried to take action, shouting for everyone to calm down and trying to steer people toward the exits. But their efforts were drowned out by the pandemonium of the moment, as the panicked crowd surged towards the door in a tide of fear. It was a scene of utter bedlam, a moment of pure and unadulterated terror that would haunt those who witnessed it for years to come.
Darren held me in his arms, trying to pull me out of the bar. But it seemed that the zombie-like headless corpse noticed it was me who threw things at me, so he paused a bit before he decided to charge in our direction at full speed.
Getting attacked by a headless zombie? I thought to myself. Great. Now I can cross that one off my bucket list.