Chapter Two- Revealed

Beer sloshed down the front of Harry's shirt. He sighed morosely, blinking. He glanced around his flat in half-hearted despair. It was nice enough, he supposed- he'd had enough money to last him a couple months, just enough time for him to settle in and find a job. He worked late hours as a tavern. It was a miracle he had even managed to get a job- luckily, the manager of the tavern felt sympathetic and realized Harry was smart and hardworking. He took another gulp of his drink before setting it down. After shrugging on his coat, he took the stairs out of the building and caught a bus.

Two and a half hours into his shift at the tavern, a group of rowdy, drunk customers stumbled in. He frowned inwardly, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. They sat down and ordered a couple pints of draft. Eventually, they quieted down. One man took out a deck of cards and they began playing, occasionally swearing when dealt with a shit hand.

Fifteen minutes later, the owner of the cards started to yell at the player sitting across from him. They began to argue, and sure enough, a fight broke out. Harry's lips twitched, but he didn't intervene. The fight would probably simmer out in a few moments or so.

But when it didn't, Harry started to feel a bit nervous. He called his manager out from his office, but sadly, his manager freaked out and ran away, locking himself in the room (along with the safe containing all the money and Harry's monthly salary, which made Harry very angry). Harry grabbed the telephone and dialed the police, but the call wouldn't go out. He tried another two times before giving up. Meanwhile, the fight was getting more heated. Several patrons had already fled the scene without paying their tabs (or their tips for that matter, which made Harry even angrier). The rest of the customers fled when one man pulled out a knife. Harry decided that he had no options left. Whether it was from sheer stupidity or anger, he stepped forward.

"Gentlemen, please," he said loudly. There was a pause in the fighting. Harry nearly sighed in relief. Then the man with the knife raised an eyebrow.

"Sonny, you better git outta the way before you git hurt," he replied, brandishing the knife. Harry glanced at the exit. Another man was standing in front of it, blocking the way. He gave a yellow-toothed grin at Harry, waving a fist threateningly. There was no way Harry would get out of there without being severely beaten. His only other option would be to exit through his manager's office, but that was locked. He could also just stand where he was and pray he wouldn't get bludgeoned, but Harry was a man of action. And anyways, the men were approaching closer and closer. He reached under the bar counter, grabbing a long tube. In a flash, he had it connected to the tap containing Absolut Vodka- he turned the tap on, pressing his finger onto the opening of the tube, feeling the pressure quickly building. A few drops of Vodka squirted out. The men were less than two feet away. There were four of them. Harry waited until his finger couldn't take it anymore. Finally, he raised the hose, aimed it at the man with the knife's eyes, and released his finger. Vodka shot right into his eyes, and he howled in pain. With his mates distracted, Harry leapt over the counter, taking one man out right away with a knee in the groin, which caused him to double over. He was knocked out cold when Harry smashed a bottle of beer over his head. The other two fixed their gazes on him, growling. They both ran towards him at the same time. Harry started forward, before ducking suddenly and sliding between them, right to where the man with the knife was still clutching his eyes in pain. He wrestled the knife out of the man's fist and ran at one of the remaining men, a guttural shriek bubbling out of his throat. He attempted to plunge the knife into one man's thigh, but missed. The man grabbed his wrist, but Harry managed to struggle away, promptly elbowing him in the solar plexus. He grabbed a stool and whacked the man's face with it, hitting him square in the forehead, rendering him completely unconscious. He heard the stool splinter. To his surprise, the remaining man backed away before turning on his heel and legging it. Without a single hesitation, he ran to the closing door and locked it. Harry didn't want those guys calling some more of their violent mates to help beat him up to a pulp.

He turned his attention back to the guy still lying on the floor, whining about his burning eyes. Wielding the knife cautiously, he knelt down.

"Hello, sorry about that. I mean, after all, you were going to skew me with this, weren't you?" he asked quietly, pressing the edge of the blade into the man's throat. "Now, I would appreciate it if you took your friends here and beat it. If I ever see your face again, you're going to get more than Vodka in your eyes," he added, pushing the edge in a little deeper. The man whimpered, nodding. Rubbing his eyes, he crawled over to where both his friends lay. He stood up, struggling to drag them by the legs out of the pub. Unfortunately, due to the fact that he was half drunk and half blind, he walked straight into the door and Harry had to help him open it.

Finally, a few minutes later, it was silent and calm. Harry sat down on a bar stool, glancing around. Broken glass littered the floor, and the stool he'd used to do one man's face in had a large chunk missing from it. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to a shadow in the opposite corner of the room.

"I know you're there," he spoke tentatively.

"Very good, Harry," his manager said, clapping slowly, materializing out of the shadows. He draped a dark, shimmering cloth over his shoulder. Abruptly, his shoulder was practically invisible. Harry's eyes widened in astonishment. "Very good."

Hoped you guys liked it. What do you think? Interesting enough?

As always, thanks for reading and any feedback!