A Drink for the Road

“What a day...” Maria said as she slammed the door of her car behind her. After a twelve hour shift at one of the local dairy farms she’d just pulled in to the town's only bar’s parking lot. Well, it wasn’t much of a bar these days. They had stopped selling alcohol about a year ago. Well, the whole town had. People had voted them a dry location last year, and the mayor had worked hard to make sure that passed. Now the bar was more like a place people came to listen to TVs and complain about the fact that they couldn’t drink alcohol anymore. People complained about a lot of things, even when they were the reasons for them.  

“A useless expense.” The mayor and his fellow politicians had declared during voting season. Everyone had gotten caught up in the idea. Now the place didn’t sell a single drop of alcohol. He hadn’t been wrong though the sales on most recreational substances had dropped that year. No one wanted to go out to bars or stores when it was more comfortable to be home.  

“What do you mean you're a dry town?” Came the first complaint Maria heard as she walked in to the bar and made her way to her usual seat. The bartender gave her a nod and passed over a mug of hot liquid. Maria accepted thankfully. The town had a lot of visitors. Alot of people wanted to come to town, some rumors of ghosts and spooky things. Kept the local motels in order, and the sheriff's department busy shooing teenagers out of old buildings.  

“I told you, we don’t serve alcohol anywhere in town. You are better off going to the next town over if you want to find anything. I hear they got a whole liquor store there too.” The bartender said as he smiled. “Though personally I wouldn’t suggest traveling the roads anywhere till dawn. We don’t have any lights on most of these streets.” Maria knew he wasn’t shitting the guy because his wife ran the motel either. Only Main Street had lights, and every road in town was dirt. Not exactly what you wanted to be driving at night if you didn’t know the area.  

Maria sipped from her mug as she watched the tourists argue. “Come on, you got to have something.” The guy asked. Maria looked to the tender who looked like he was just about at the end of his rope. She knew he kept the place stocked, but she wasn’t sure the new face would like any of the local selections. Backroom made drinks rarely sat with those who weren’t used to them.  

“Fine, fine...” The tender said as he reached under the bar and removed a blackened bottle from below. He poured the liquid in to a mug similar to Maria’s and passed it over to the thirsty patron... or whatever they wanted to call him. It steamed, as though it was kept on some kind of bottle warmer.  

The tourist picked up the cup and took a long sip, expecting the burn of an alcohol was shocked at the bitter coppery taste that poured in to his mouth. He leaned forward, spitting out the liquid on the table, a red color covered the bar, causing everyone nearby to gasp. Even Maria found herself picking up her cup and inching back away from the spill of red that had poured out of the man as he gaged.  

“What are you insane?” The man demanded as he wiped his mouth and spit more. “Why would you...”  

“Am I insane?” The tender asked as he pointed at him. “You just wasted a perfectly good warm mug. Got some real weird manners where you come from.” The tender said as he took the mug away and set back about his business, shaking his head in annoyance as he moved down the counter to more patrons.  

Maria raised a confused brow watching the man spit out he perfectly good drink. She sipped her own and shook her head, glancing around to look at all the shocked, and insulted patrons. Even the bartender looked disgusted at the waste of what seemed to be considered a precious resource. She wondered if she should speak up and give the guy a bit of advice before he got run out of town. She almost considered just standing up and leaving before stuff got rough, but her softer side got the better of her.  

“Hey. Guy.” Maria finally spoke up. “Why are you wasting good blood? You came in here demanding a drink. Why would you spit it out?”  

“Blood?” The tourist asked in a fearful tone. Weird reaction for a normal drink.  

“Yeah, why? What do you drink where you come from?” Maria asked him in an honest shocked tone. What kind of question was that? Everyone drank blood. It was just what you did.  

“Alcohol...” He said, and Maria still wasn’t sure why he looked to be in such a panic.  

“We used to sell that, but no one drank it. Now it's just tourists like you who wander in here complaining about it.” Said the bartender with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Since it was only a few of ya here and there, we didn’t think it would much matter.”  

The tourist looked around, shocked at how everyone just seemed mildly irked by his behavior, not at the fact that he had just been fed blood as though he had asked for a cup of water.  

“If you can’t respect my bar, I am going to have to ask you to leave.” The bartender said as he was already wiping up the wasted liquid. Muttering about how damned annoying this was.  

“I uh... Sorry?” he asked as she looked around.   

Maria spoke up again. “Ok guy, what's your name?”  

“Peter.” He answered still looking confused.  

“Well, Peter. I don’t know where you come from, but they sure have some weird customs. Do us a favor and tell your friends if they come around here not to be so damn rude.” She said with a derisive sniff and picked up her mug again. “You know how hard it is to get fresh blood around here? Not like living animals just grow on trees.”   

“Oh.” Peter said as he slowly climbed to his feet, fear seeming to set in to the man. “Right just...animal blood totally normal.” He said as he slowly backed away towards the door, everyone watching him now, looking particularly confused by his behavior.  

Everyone wore the same confused look on their faces as the man named Peter slowly backed towards the door of the bar like some kind of cornered opossum until the door slammed open. Peter spun around and turned several shades paler as if he had just lost all the blood in his body. In the doorway was a bizarre almost bat looking man. Pale skin, a hooked nose, bald, and large pointed ears. “You ok man?” He asked as he gazed down at Peter who broke in to a loud scream of fear as the creature smiled down at him. A mouth of sharp painted teeth similar to the maw of a shark loomed over him.   

Peter went flying out of the door screaming at the top of his lungs as the bat-man who entered shrugged and made his way to the bar. Settling down the bartender spoke as he poured another cup.  

“Here you go Nos, these tourists are super weird. Came in here asking for alcohol.” A chuckled rose from the people around the bar. What a silly request to make at a bar.