The door creaked open, exposing a dim, dingy bar with a
perpetual haze of smoke making it look like something out of a bad dream. I headed
towards the bar, squeezing between the dirty tables and the dregs of humanity drinking
there.
I had been leaning on sticky bar top for a few moments
when I felt a rough tug on my sleeve. I turned and found myself face to face
with a grotesque man of indeterminate age. He pointed awkwardly at a table in
the back where a man sat, shrouded in a formless, trench coat blotchy in color.
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