AN: In celebration of the fact that season four is beginning one week from today, here is the first chapter of my long (long, long, very long) awaited sequel to "Beneath the Sandglass." I'm not going to say that it's 100% necessary to have read that one first, but it's definitely at least 99.9% necessary. Also, I really just want you to read it because I'm particularly proud of it.
Since this is a direct sequel, remember that the story is AU as of 1x10.
Oh and the title is Latin, and can be loosely translated to mean "Hell begets hell." It's relevant, I promise.
Thanks everyone for being so supportive to me all these years and I hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1 - A Holiday Drink
Bart Keller leaned against the porch rail and took a deep drag on his cigarette. Winter was coming fast and he wrapped his free arm around his torso to stave off the bitter cold. He definitely would have to remember his coat when coming out to smoke from now on.
With a heavy sigh, Bart lifted his cigarette and took another drag. His neighbours across the street had already strung multi-coloured fairy lights around their windows, twinkling in the darkness. Bart snorted, shaking his head. Idiots. Thanksgiving was tomorrow and those stupid morons had put up those lights two weeks ago. Who'd want to prolong the holiday nightmare any longer than they had to?
Smoke streamed from his nostrils as he exhaled. Bart had just stuck the cigarette between his lips again when the front door opened behind him. He pretended not to hear it even though it creaked loudly. Damn it, he'd forgotten to grease those hinges. Just another thing for Judith to nag him about. "Bart, you coming to bed?" Judith asked.
"Hmm?" Bart asked, feigning confusion. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw his wife standing in the doorway in her nightgown, a robe hanging open over her shoulders. "Oh, yeah, just gimme a sec. Just needed some fresh air."
"Alright, honey," Judith said. She turned to head back into the house and then paused and frowned up at the door. "And honey, could you remember to grease these hinges in the morning?"
"Yeah, yeah, got it," Bart said dismissively. He turned his back on her again and went back to his cigarette, which was sadly burning close to the filter. Judith hesitated, like she wanted to say more, but then she just shut the door behind her. Bart rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on the porch rail.
How had he become this guy? He always thought he was going to be so much more, but no, his life had dissolved into this horribly domestic nightmare. His days consisted of mind-numbing desk work, being nagged to do housework by his wife, and being ignored by his ungrateful kids. And now he couldn't even enjoy a fucking cigarette in peace.
Bart flicked the cigarette butt out into the snowy lawn and watched it disappear into the white. Then he promptly pulled another from the box in his pocket and lit up. The tobacco left a satisfying burn in his throat as he inhaled. When had his life gone to complete shit? He was going to go places. He was gonna leave this stupid hick town behind and go on to bigger and better things. He wasn't supposed to be sitting at home entertaining his crabby ass in-laws all week.
To hell with that. Bart started down the pavement, one hand clutching his cigarette and the other tucked into the pocket of his jeans. He needed a drink, and he needed it bad. Judith had gotten rid of all the alcohol in the house. Her crazy mom was some sort of recovering alcoholic and couldn't be around the stuff, so the rest of them had to suffer for it. She wouldn't even let him keep a couple Buds in the fridge in the garage. So he was going to go enjoy himself somewhere else where folks weren't going to nag away the last few pleasures of life.
The lights were still on in the Rust Bucket and Bart tossed his cigarette before he shoved through the door, grateful for the heating as it swept over him. There weren't many people there, mostly just the local barflies and a very tipsy young woman with a young man who was most definitely going to score tonight. Bart gave the kid an approving nod - the woman was smoking hot, after all - and then took a seat at the bar.
"Scotch on the rocks, Otis," Bart said. "Make it a triple."
"In-laws?" Otis asked when he set the glass down on the counter in front of him. Bart gave him a significant look. "Yeah, that's what I thought." With that Otis left him alone, only coming back to refill his glass whenever it emptied. Bart basked in the pleasant warmth that was a combination of central heating and alcohol. Yes, this was certainly better than being at home.
Bart stood up and Otis asked, "Leavin' already?"
"Nah," Bart said. He shook his head and then clutched the bar as the room wavered slightly. "Gotta take a piss." With that he set off for the restrooms tucked into the other side of the bar. The fluorescent lighting made him squint when he stepped in, and he walked up to the nearest urinal and unzipped. When he was finished he turned to the sink and stuck his hands under the automated faucets. He glanced in the mirror and something caught his eye. Was that-?
Bart's eyes widened in shock and horror. He spun around quickly and a split second later a pair of hands had closed around his throat. He sputtered and tried to claw the hands away, but nothing he did could break the grip. The world went hazy. His vision went black. And Bart Keller collapsed in a heap on the cold bathroom floor.