A/N: I was hit by a sudden bolt of inspiration to try something a bit different than my usual stuff. While it still involves characters I usually write about and everything(and it's still KOF), I realized, thinking back, I had never really written an adaptation.

Adaptations are everywhere; most movies from books are adaptations, sometimes they're closer or further. One that had sort of inspired me was Dagon; a horror movie that was a very good adaptation of the Shadow Over Innsmouth. It took the old setting, moved it to modern times, used a place off the coast of Spain instead of New England, it involved some more people, and so on, but hit a lot of the other beats, and I found it to be a very enjoyable adaptation.

While fanfiction is a derivative work as it is, I was reminded of a great horror story-a sort of forgotten short piece entitled "The Pale Man," written by Julius Long. This fellow died young(before he was fifty), and only left behind a few works, being relatively unknown. It was written back in the 1930s. One of those lost gems.

This is where I am going to suggest that you take the time at some point to read the original. You can find it anywhere online now(it's in the public domain, even), and it's not a long read(a little over 2000 words.) Before or after, it's a great little creepy story, but it will also give you an idea of what I was adapting here(or, at least, am trying to.)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my first attempt at a modernized adaptation!

I've never met the fellow who always sits by the window. I haven't seen him around the town, any of the shops, or any other bars. We've been to a few, but he seems to like this one.

He always drinks the same thing-a glass of absinthe, sometimes two, neither of which seem to affect him. He smokes a pipe, as well. A long, black lacquered one, some sort of Asian design, possibly Chinese. I'm not sure. We've nodded greetings a couple of times, but that's about it. He goes to sit down and look quietly out the window after getting his drinks.

I frequent this bar. It's a dump, but we've always come here. It smells like old cigarettes, older wood, beer, and perhaps a bit of dust. The only sounds are that of a television in the background that looks like it was put in when the place was built. I think the floor is warped in some areas, and the threadbare carpets around the single pool table had been trod upon by the tens who had come and gone. It's not popular, but it seems to have been out for awhile. The sign flickers. A couple of the light bulbs in the place are out, and I don't think the bartender really cares. I think you all know the kinda place this is.

Bartender doesn't say shit toward anything going on. Turns a blind eye. We like that, especially in my line of work. Even doesn't care about the meeting room in the back. Nice, private place to do the real biz, if you know what I mean. He's somewhat surly, but we don't care. He serves the booze and goes right back to probably disliking half of the people in the bar. He probably makes some money under the table 'renting out' his back room.

The young man is handsome, and despite being one of the palest men I have laid eyes on, he looks very robust and healthy. His long coat makes him look slim, but I have seen him without it, and he is corded with the sinewy muscle of a fighter. A couple of scars on his arms also tell me he is no stranger to fights-not that South Town has any lack of those people-but with none on his face, he may just win often. Perhaps he is a street fighter who comes here to drink. His long nails and red eyes are somewhat strange…as is his hair, which is long. Extremely long, nearly to the ground in a braid. I do not think he is from around here. His style of dress looks formal in his coat-its embroidery looks expensive. But underneath, it's just a sleeveless shirt-I think it's called a qipao-trousers, boots. Nothing out of the ordinary. He doesn't look like he's dressed for an office job, nor a formal meeting. His bracelets look strange. Nicely decorated, but seemingly made of stone, much like the large weights at the end of his hair. I have no goddamn idea how he carries that weight on his head all day, but some of the fighters here have been pretty scary, I guess.

He smiles at me if we pass each other by the bar. One day, I want to talk to him. Who knows-he might be someone to get on our side.

I wish I knew why he sat by the window, staring out silently the whole time…and why I was so interested in this fact.

I'll be honest-I usually don't operate out of South Town. Coming down from the northeast, I really don't like the sweltering heat and humidity down here, and can't really say I am much of a beach person, either. I was told, though, that they needed someone to close the deal with some…gentlemen down here. I didn't come here alone-there's a few guys who came with me. Co-workers, if you will.

There's a lot of people to deal with down here. Big names, too. Big money.

He moved a seat closer to me today. I wasn't sure why; I came here with a couple of my working buddies…and everything else was empty. Usually empty, in this dump. He stayed by the window…maybe he likes to people-watch. I dunno. I can't figure out why I'm so intrigued by him. When my friends left, he passed me by too…and smiled again.

It was a little sinister this time. Or maybe my mind is playing tricks on me…in the middle of a big deal, and all. He had looked at one of my partners the same way. Same thing as today though. Sat there for at least an hour. Drank some absinthe. Smoked his pipe. Sometimes he removes his coat. He has a sleeveless shirt under it, and even wears earrings. But there's an air of…something about him. Something I can't place. But it makes me curious. I keep meaning to talk. But I never do…and then he leaves again. I wish I could place his smile...but I can't. It's not joy, nor hilarity. It's not egotistical or cocky, either. It's unreadable.

Another day rolls around…and there he is, one seat closer. Maybe finally he wants to talk? Hmm…he might be one of ours. Maybe he's feeling everything out. I can respect that. If he gets too close…no, he seems friendly enough…though he left early today. After my friend. We had almost got done closing the deal with the others today. Boss is gonna love to hear about this.

A bad day today. Very bad. One of us is dead. We found him in the back alley. His throat was cut. No, it was torn out. Shook us to the core. Did his deal go wrong last night? Been trying to get ahold of the others, but we haven't been able to yet.

Went back into the bar to cool down. They got some stiff drinks there…the 155-proof stuff. A shot of that might calm our nerves.

The pale man was there, sitting once again a seat closer to us. He nodded, giving me another smile. I didn't like this one as much. Something is off about him. He feels…cold. The air around him feels cold. The hairs on my neck stood up a few times as we drank. He's close enough that I can smell his pipe smoke, as me and my remaining partner talked over the deal.

I feel him looking. Might need more than this stuff to calm down.

But it wasn't all bad, our contact called! It turns out our dead buddy never showed up last night. Guess he ran into…trouble. We've been trying to find out who-or what -did that to him, but we found no other trace. Just a lot of blood. We tried asking around. We asked the bartender if he knew anything. Apparently, he heard nothing…and this place was close to the alley.

It's South Town, so it's not like the cops even bothered taping it off. They're probably glad he was gone-one less criminal for them to worry about. They carted him off and hosed the place down. Probably got much bigger fish to fry than a small-time criminal.

Now shit's getting weird. My buddy went to meet with the contact. He called me panicking. Guy was dead. Apparently his head was turned around on his body. Looking up to the sky laying on his stomach. We're freaked the fuck out now, and we're gonna call the boss to tell him shit's going sideways. But we really wanna try to at least partially close this deal…since now the other guys might think we're involved.

The pale man gave me a smile as he walked in, sitting in the booth right behind mine. The pipe smoke is almost making me sick right now…I don't even know if I can hold this booze down. I dunno what's even happening anymore. My buddy showed up once again. Seemed like he was running. Running pretty fast by the look.

He had good news! The guys didn't blame us. While I'm a little miffed they aren't that threatened by us, they had implied that neither of us could've done to this guy what was actually done to him. Apparently his head was twisted around as easily as someone would twist a string. Maybe I'd normally be a little insulted, but right now, I'm just grateful. Deal's still on, we can close it off later this evening at their place. Get it all out of the way, let the boss know, and get the hell back up north.

I was excited to be sent on this job at first…something new. Something to prove myself to the boss. Me and the guys were all excited. Promotions were gonna be waiting for us, probably, given how much money we'd be getting. But shit's just getting weird now…and the pale man, who I was once interested in getting to know…something about him makes me feel off now. Terrified, even.

Who is he? No one seems to know. The bartender doesn't know. He doesn't talk to his clients, really. Not his place. He sells the booze. Maybe mentions the weather or something that's going on in the local neighborhood, but that's it. I don't blame him, with everything that goes on here. Loose lips, and all. Half the time he doesn't even seem to notice him. I dunno how this is possible-he's hard to miss. Taller than most, pale, red eyes. Hair that brushes the ground. How can you forget that?

My last partner hadn't shown up yet. He's late. He's never late. One of the only ones who isn't. I tried calling him. No answer.

I had ran out of the bar…and the man was smoking his pipe by the window next to my seat. He looked calm, placid…even serene. I couldn't read his face. But I left…and went to the place where he was supposed to be coming from.

The blood was sticky on the floor. It had dried. There had been a scuffle; my partner tried to meet whoever it was head on. I don't know how far he had gotten, but at least he tried. Like the other one, his throat was torn out…but he also had signs of terrible, blunt force trauma. It was over fast, though. I don't think he took more than a few hits until the killer ended it.

I don't know who did it, but I need to get back to the bar. I'm safe there. It's a public place, even if there are never too many people there. Always one or two hanging out in the back, maybe around the pool table. I just need to get somewhere.

I ordered up a huge drink and plopped myself by my usual table. The man was there, still looking neutral.

He smiled at me again, and this was the smile that unnerved me the most.

Holy shit. I know who he is. Well…I know enough. I don't know his name…but I know why he's here.

I know what he wants. I know why he smiles at me. Why he smiled at the rest. And why he's gotten closer.

It was dark out-I could not reach the last contact I had in South Town. My contact back north told me to get home, fast. I was in the bathroom. Pacing. Looking outside of the door. I couldn't see the booth from where I was. The bartender was there, though-he was sitting in plain sight. I was safe here, but I couldn't stay forever. The bar closed around three in the morning. It opened early, but it closed to clean up for a few hours. I was frantically trying to think when it would be the best to leave.

When I walked out, the pale man was gone.

"Hey! Where did that guy go?" I asked the bartender.

"I didn't see him leave."

"What do you mean? The door's right there. He had to walk by. You had to see him."

"I didn't. Trust me. You been drinkin' too much tonight, bud?"

"No! I've only had one. You have to tell me."

"I'm tellin' ya, buddy. I ain't seen him leave. If you need him, I dunno, maybe you can catch up with 'em."

I could probably leave now. There'd be a better chance of seeing people out now than after three, when I know damn well it'd be real empty.

Pulling my coat around myself after making sure my piece was underneath it-in the holster, where I always keep it, can never be too careful at biz meetings-I went out the front door. I looked all around, to make sure. I had to turn the corner to get back to my hotel. I debated waiting until morning at some other place-but the street had an occasional passer-by and someone yelling, a bottle crashing. I only had to make it around the block, through the alley, and I would be on the main street.

I turned and walked quickly, my head turning from side to side, feeling my heart almost leap out of my chest. If I had been even a few years older, I wonder if it would have given out.

I was in the last stretch of the alleyway when I heard it. More like… felt it.

I felt the cold. I saw shadows move. The breeze kicked up, cooling my sweat even in this southern heat. The blood was rushing into my ears, yet I heard.

The shadows churn…and I hear his footsteps.

A/N: As I said, this is my first time actually attempting something like this.

I tried to capture the dialogue somewhat, only modernize it a bit, and hit some 'story beats'(him examining the fellow and describing him, etc. I tried to describe Duo Lon's outfit from the eyes of a stranger, using the stuff that's on his actual character sheets and everything. I added a couple of scars and the pipe as an embellishment. He probably has a scar or two on his arms from training, perhaps. Hell, I HC him with tattoos, but I didn't mention them here. Didn't really need to.) After reading the story, and especially after listening to it narrated by a youtuber with a great voice, I felt like this all fell into place for me. My mind put Duo Lon in the place of the Pale Man, and made him Death…albeit in a different way. Went for the psychological horror angle. I am not sure how this all turned out-but I just wanted to perhaps pay homage to a little short story that I liked a lot that flew under the radar(maybe letting more people know about it), while trying to branch out a little bit from some inspiration it gave me.

Til next time, all!