“Welcome to the bar “Night!” the barman greeted a new customer who appeared from another side of the counter. “What can I offer you?”

“Whiskey,” said briefly the man in a black leather coat sitting on a high chair.

Darnell O’Dell was watching the young pal craftily fulfilling his order. When he turned away ready to leave to other customers, the man knocked his glass and called him back.

“Hey, repeat.”

The barman looked at him with a bit of surprise and came back. After filling the glass, he stared at his gloomy visitor for a couple of seconds and prepared to leave again.

“You are new here, right?” asked Darnell pulling out a pack of smokes and putting it in front of him. “Haven’t seen you around before.”

“It’s my first shift today. Smoking here is not allowed,” the barmen said disapprovingly, watching the customer.

“But I do smoke,” proclaimed Darnell putting a cigarette into the mouth, and shoved his hand into the pocket of the coat looking for a lighter.

“Leave him alone, Mik,” a man with a beard came from the back of the younger barmen. He was dressed in a plaid shirt and always reminded Darnell of a Norwegian lumberman. He moved his subordinate aside. “Go to that side of the counter, there are lots of customers there.” He addressed Darnell who had time to light up his cigarette and was slowly puffing plumes of smoke. “Why are you scaring away my youngs?”

“Me? I’m not scaring. The boy hasn’t seen life but tries to teach me.”

“Here’s your bottle, and don’t pick on him anymore,” said the senior bartender and placed a bottle of whiskey and a glass ashtray in front of him.

“Now you're speaking my language.” Darnell waved the barman letting him go.

The bar was full as always. The man tried not to attract attention after the recent problems in the Agency but couldn’t help his Sunday visiting of the favorite public place. Darnell was really fond of this place for its permanent semi-darkness and not too loud heavy music. He had been visiting this bar for the last 5 years, from the moment it had just opened, and saw all its ups and downs. As well as its permanent barman Walter saw all the ups and downs of Darnell that he was ritually drowning away with whiskey sitting behind this very counter.

Hiding in the furthest corner, he was painstakingly getting drunk, smoking one cigarette after another. If people were looking less askance at him, he would prefer drinking right from the bottleneck. But, for saving the remnants of human shape, he had to use a glass. When the whiskey reached the middle of the bottle, a demon fell onto the chair next to him, shoving him with a black wing. The newcomer was dressed in a snow-white shirt with two unbuttoned upper buttons that bared his yellowish skin, and classic black pants with a wide leather belt. Darnell was always curious about how the demon managed to put this shirt on having the wings of almost his body size.