You move quickly towards the pale man. He sees you coming just in time and falls backwards out of his stool. He looks up at you with tears in his eyes.

"Please," he says, crawling backwards. "I-I just wanted to have you. Is that so bad?" he crawls and crawls until his back hits the wall. You tower over him. The knife in your hand feels warm

"Wouldn't it be nice?" he says, his voice choking with emotion. You kneel down beside him. "Wouldn't- wouldn't you wanna belong to someone else? I'm sorry. Let me keep you! Don't do this. Please! Let me keep you! Let me--"

You slit his throat without hesitation.

He bleeds on you.

You wipe the knife off on his shirt and wonder if killing had always been this easy. You'd never done it before coming to this place. Would it be so easy at home? These people died like nothing.

Maybe it was the knife. You sense its satisfaction like a purring cat, and you smile. It's so encouraging.

"Enough," said a voice from behind you. You got up and turned to face the man in the jacket. He stood in the middle of the room, head down, fists clenched. His words felt like nails in your head. What was he doing to you?

As you watched, there came a great tearing noise as his jacket was torn apart. From his back sprouted long, black tentacles, like tendrils of shadow. They darted towards you while the man kept still.

You slashed at them with the knife, but there were too many. For every one you cut-- far more than you could possibly do on your own, thought a small part of you. It had to be the knife-- several more came after. In no time at all, your arms and legs were bound, held immobile. You struggled against them, but it was no use; you were trapped.

"Stop," said the man. You looked up. You still couldn't see his face, but from beneath the unnaturally shadowed brim of his hat, you could make out one single, golden eye.

"You've done enough harm here," he said. His hands and eye started to glow with an intense yellow light.

You squinted against the brightness, then turned your head away, unable to stand it.

There was a sudden burst of pressure and force, and you felt hands on your shoulders.

"Try again," said the voice.

And everything went black.

* * * * *

You were killed in a bar fight!

[Try Again?]