ETHAN

For a gathering place in a small town teeming with history on the outskirts of a large forest, the local pub was surprisingly busy. I felt as if I could sense the eyes of all the university students and faculty filling the room on me. They were staring at the foreigner, wondering what could bring him to such a remote village in the middle of nowhere.

I scoffed, looking down at the bar and my half-empty glass.

The dull thrumming of music sent vibrations into the counter of the bar. My hands gripped the pint glass as my long curls fell in front of my face. I was already a few drinks in, and the rhythm of the bass made my head throb and vision blur.

‘Shit.’ There was no way I’d be driving back to the dorm in this state.

Dizzily, I lifted the glass to my lips, taking another large gulp of alcohol. I needed it. A new school–hell, a new country–and I still couldn’t shake everything I was leaving behind…everything I wanted to leave behind.

Forget it all, start over…

Grunting as I pushed away the memories, I downed the rest of the beer, slamming the empty glass on the counter. I flinched, shaking my head as the strong wave of alcohol hit me. Everything felt like it was swimming.

“Hey!” I shouted, waving over the bartender. My voice was loud and cloudy; even I could tell I was already drunk. “Another!”

The bartender winked, pointing at me as he put down the glass he’d been polishing. “Ye got it, laddy!”

The room spun a little as I was jostled by someone slamming into my side. I looked up, my muscles tensing with aggravation as my personal space was invaded by a grinning, brown-haired boy who seemed to be around the same age as me. His face was flushed, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead as he staggered next to my seat.

“Sure you need another? Doesn’t seem like you can hold your liquor!” His slurred words provoked a chorus of laughter from the group who had followed him up to the bar. “Can’t drive home like that, and no cab driver’s gonna understand that accent!”

If I thought I was drunk, the sight of this boy gave the word a whole new meaning. I gritted my teeth, an eyebrow raised. I was about to stand and offer the stranger a rather firm ‘piss off’ when he was pulled aside by a more sober companion.

“Go get another drink, Collin,” the drunkard’s friend suggested, giving him a push toward the others who were jostling for the bartender’s attention.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He took the empty seat next to me as he offered an apologetic smile. “Collin’s an idiot when he’s drunk, but he means well. Don’t listen to him. We try to make sure everybody gets back home safe. I’m Oliver, by the way.” He stretched his hand over his glass, stirring up the foam. “And you’re…Ethan Lennox, right? We’re in the same dorm.”

I hesitated before accepting the offered handshake, blinking with a rather focused determination as I tried to make a fair impression. “Yeah, Ethan. How’d you know?”

“Small town. Everybody knows everybody around here. Besides, I think you’re the only one that has enough balls to drive that wild beast you have parked out front.” He chuckled, taking a large swig of whatever he was drinking, and made a sour face, shaking his head as it hit him.

I smirked, nodding. “Oh…the motorcycle. Right, right.” He was right, I hadn’t seen any other vehicles quite as…flashy. People mostly walked or drove old, beaten-up trucks. More and more, I was sticking out like a sore thumb. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you, but you were in charge of orientation, right? You said your name was…?” Though he had just given me his name I was already blanking.

The man smirked. “Oliver.”

“Oliver!” I practically shouted, trying to make sure I remembered this time. “I apologize, I’m afraid your friend’s right. I can’t really hold my liquor. Not really one to frequent bars.”

“I take it you didn’t transfer to Folkhelm for the nightlife, then,” Oliver chuckled, taking a swig from his drink. “Not much else to draw new students other than a bunch of urban legends.”

I felt my palms sweat slightly as my brows raised. “Urban legends?”

“I shouldn’t spread rumors, but...sometimes strange things happen, and some people attract attention. ‘Specially around the woods at night.” Shoulders tense, Oliver cleared his throat. “It’s probably better you don’t know, since that’s not why you transferred in. So, what really brought you all the way out here?”

The question made a shiver trail up my spine and my hairs stand on end. My mouth was dry as I gripped my glass tightly, sweat gluing my palms to it. “Oh you know…” I tried to sound nonchalant, hoping I was successful in keeping my voice level, “I heard you guys had a really great philosophy program.” The response was generic and plain..normal. Everything I wanted from this fresh start.

Though I could tell Oliver was about to continue interrogating me, I was granted a form of relief when a very drunk and flailing Collin caught Oliver’s attention...though I really couldn’t believe anyone would miss the animated arm waves.

“Oliver!” Collin hissed, his voice carrying even over the blaring music. He was much too loud for somebody trying to keep something private. “He’s here again! Look at him, actin’ like he’s one of us!”

His dramatic gestures caught the attention of somebody at the other end of the bar.

I couldn’t help but find the man striking, with his dark eyes and even darker hair. Long strands of ebony were pulled away from his angular face, and his skin was pale. He was so different from what I looked like- different from any person I had seen. His long, slender fingers were tight with what could only be rage around his glass, and his jaw was set. He looked older than we were, and his eyes were like daggers as he watched Collin acting a fool.

“Shut up!” Oliver snapped at his raving friend, making me jump and pulling my attention away from the stranger.

Collin was clearly too aggravated to listen. “He’s looking at us! What if he does something? What if the rumors are true?! What if he really can-!”

“Collin! You’ll be fine if you be quiet!” Oliver grabbed Collin’s arm and pulled him down to sit. He looked worried as he forced a smile at the man Collin had been rambling about. “If Lyn wants to drink, by God let him, man! Isn’t that easier than trying to chase him out and getting cursed? Or worse?”

Collin grumbled, but kept his head down as other worried friends gathered around.

I craned my neck, gazing around them at the gothic man they’d called ‘Lyn.’ Rumors? Curse? Was this what Oliver had been referring to when he’d so vaguely described the fabled ‘urban legends?’

“Hey,” I whispered, leaning in so Oliver could hear me over the music. I was feeling suddenly sober as I asked, “Who is that guy?”

Oliver gritted his teeth, glancing up at the man for a second as if worried he would be heard as he spoke even though his voice was near a whisper. “That’s Lyndon Weir. He’s an assistant professor at the university. They say he’s…different. That he curses people he doesn’t like.”

“He’s creepy.” A girl who had been rubbing Oliver’s shoulder to comfort him chimed in, her voice trembling. “Everyone in his lectures says so. He’s always collecting weird plants, and leaving strange things around campus! And a friend of mine got sick after she talked to him!”

Grimacing, Oliver shushed her before she could work herself up like Collin. “Your friend can’t prove anything. Nobody can. He’s just…weird, and when strange things happen, a lot of people blame Lyn.”

I nodded, my head tilted to the side as I surveyed the group of college friends, all of them clearly agitated. “So...you all believe that he has...powers?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it powers, per se,” Oliver grunted, taking a deep breath and another swig of his drink. “But, yeah, pretty much everyone in town believes it. Definitely everyone at the school, even some of the teachers. There’s loads of people that have had encounters with him, and it’s kind of hard to ignore, you know? He’ll lose his fancy job soon if he’s not careful.”

Shrugging, I stared into my glass. “Don’t you think it’s possible people have just heard the legends and then blame the poor guy? I mean, talking about curses and abilities,” I cleared my throat. “It’s all a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”

Oliver grimaced, meeting my gaze. “I mean, hey, you’re new here, I get it. I’m just saying, before you go around talking shit about the guy, just...you know...maybe think again. If I were you, I’d try not to have anything to do with him.”

Anything I could have said in response to Oliver’s ominous advice was lost in an audible gasp from one of the girls who had been comforting Collin. “Look, he’s coming this way.” She pointed at the striking man at the other side of the bar.

He was leaving empty shot glasses behind, and his head was down as he pushed his way through the small crowd in the bar. It wasn’t hard; most of them moved aside like they were afraid what would happen if he touched them. Forced to a halt by the crowd of gossiping college students who had flocked around me, he stopped just a few steps away from me.

I looked up at him, feeling my breath catch. There was something about him, a presence, an aura, that seemed otherworldly. Maybe it was the alcohol or the rumors that had crept through the bar…but I could see why the students had warned me not to mess with him. Something about him seemed…threatening; confident and foreboding.

Sighing before clearing his throat, the man hushed out a velvety, “Excuse me,” in his low voice. He sounded calm on the surface, but there was a cold flicker of anger in his eyes.

Collin stumbled to his feet, staggering in between Lyn and the gasping girl who looked rooted to the spot.

I could only watch with wide eyes.

“We aren’t lookin’ for trouble,” Collin said, stuttering drunkenly. “You shouldn’t be either, if you know what’s good for you!”

Lyn’s cool expression wavered. His fists were clenched at his sides. “Lucky for you, I’m not."

I felt my brows raise, quietly and took another drink as I wondered if I was about to witness a bar fight.

Collin gritted his teeth. "You little-”

“Didn’t you want me to leave?” Lyn cut Collin off, saving him from making the situation worse, and nodded toward the door, which was on our side of the bar.

Oliver jumped up out of his seat, dragging Collin to the side. The girl shuffled with them, her back to the bar as she watched Lyn with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” Oliver muttered, his gaze on the floor. Lyn’s dark eyes rested on him for a moment, unreadable, before he brushed past them and made for the door. Though I couldn’t hear it over the music, I felt the bang as he slammed it behind him.

Oliver turned to Collin, his fist slamming into his friend’s arm. “What were you thinking?” he hissed between clenched teeth, his face pale. “Did you think that was a fight you could win?”

“I could take ‘im,” Collin slurred, grunting when Oliver smacked him again.

“It’s not a physical fight I’m worried about, you dunce! Lord, this is the last time I go drinking with you,” Oliver muttered, shoving Collin back a stumbling step.

The bulkier man frowned, but returned to his drinking as Oliver turned away. Groaning, Oliver rubbed at his forehead. He looked embarrassed when he gave me a tight smile. “Sorry…about all that.”

I shook my head, eyes still wide and brows raised as the residual tension hung in the air. ”Nah, 'is all good, mate.” I wasn't even really sure what ‘all that’ was.

“No, it was a really shitty welcome,” Oliver argued, forcing cheer in his voice as he said, “Let me at least buy you another drink to make up for it.” He waved for the bartender, who had been watching events unfold and seemed reluctant to enter the mix.

I pushed my glass away, shaking my head as I staggered off of the bar stool. I held my hand up, rejecting the gesture. “No no, I really think I've had enough for the night. Just some fresh air will do me some good."

“Are you sure? Want me to walk you out or get you a ride back? Wouldn’t want you getting lost.” Oliver’s smile was still strained, and the way his gaze jumped to the door for a moment said he was worried about more than just how much I’d had to drink.

Shaking my head I stepped away from the bar, realizing I had to concentrate on my balance. “I'm good, but thanks. I'll see you back at the dorm. Have a good night, mate. Was nice to meet you.”

Walking away from the crowd of spooked students and through the wall of endless sound, I finally exited the front door of the bar. I let it close behind me, and the cold, crisp autumn night engulfed me.

The near silence made my ears ring, an owl hooting far off in the distance. The British countryside was eerie and beautiful, the edge of the forest bordering the road of the small town.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to remember which direction the university was in. As I glanced down the road, watching dewy mist curl like fog over the cobblestone, I felt my stomach drop.

At the edge of the forest, leaning against a gnarled and leafless elm tree, I could make out the shadowy figure of Lyn. His pale face was like a ghost. His eyes were glaring at me.

As I walked away, hoping that I was headed in the right direction, I felt my throat tighten. Paranoid, I looked over my shoulder, to make sure I wasn’t being followed. Whether or not Oliver and the others had reason to believe Lyn had connections to the supernatural, there was certainly something different about him.

I felt my chest tighten and my hands turn to fists in my pockets as my mind swam. A dark past? A curse? Whatever it was that people feared, whatever had made this man the center of a town's urban legend, I didn't want any part of it.

I'd had enough of all that to last me a lifetime.