• A tall delicate figure he was, his features soft and flawless. His body shape was slim and lady-like, he was almost like a cat. His hair was long and black, barely touching his shoulders in bunches that came to a point. His hair was like silk, soft and well taken care of. His eyes were a dark blue, so dark they where almost black, and his lips where full and pale. All his skin was pale, what was showing behind the lose and messy collar of the suit he wore. The tie he wore hung loosely around his neck, and the cuffs where pulled and folded back to reveal white lace from the shirt he wore under that black coat. On his face was a pair of black sunglasses, making it impossible for you to see his eyes. His nose came to a perfect point, it wasn't to large, or to small, it fit his face perfectly.
    When he walked in, the way he walked even made him stand separate from the crowd. He walked with a weird swagger that no one could have ever seen before, walking as if he had not a care in the world, like he was free, and nothing could stop him, even if it wanted to. Who would want to stop him anyway?
    The red curtains around him on the walls and the gold and red velvet covered sofa's made him look all that more dark. His black boots clicked against the against the black tiles that where gently speckled with white. He passed right by the small bar.
    The bar was tall and had five bar stools that where topped with brown leather cushions and the counter top was the same as the tiles on the ground. A man stood behind it, he was dressed in a bartender's full apparel. In one hand he held a tall glass and in the other was a white cloth that he was using to dry the glass off.
    As the man walked passed the bar, he reached out his hand and grabbed a bottle of 1900 La Grande Dame. Pulling the cork out with ease and placing the brim of the bottle to his lips and drinking the liquid. The bartender's jaw dropped, the wine was his most precious possession.
    "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" The bartender yelled.
    The man didn't answer, he just kept delicately drinking the wine. Walking to a couch and plopping himself down, picking his foot up and resting it on the sofa.
    "Are you deaf! I asked you a question!"
    "I heard you." The man said, his voice rolling out off his lips and into the air. His voice was sweet as honey, but harsh.
    "I think I'm thirsty." He turned and looked at the bartender, "What about you?"
    The bartender almost threw the glass onto the table when he walked over to him. He grabbed a knife from the bar on his way over to him.
    "I think you should hand that bottle over to me right now." The man took another swig and turned his gaze away from the bartender.
    "This? You really want this piece of crap back." The man sighed, "Well, you can't blame a nut case."
    The bartender looked like he was about the burst, his eyes were as big as golf balls and his cheeks where turning red. He held the knife in his fist, ready to throw it down into the mans chest. "What did you just say?"
    "I said, that you are an idiot for wanting such a piece of s**t." The man took another gulp. The bartender looked to be on the verge of tears, screaming, he brought the knife down.
    "Tsk tsk tsk..." The man said, he had grabbed the bartender's wrist before the blade reached his chest. "You wouldn't want to waist a life, now would you?" He looked up to the bartender, standing up and taking his glasses off to reveal his two dark blue eyes. "But I'm fine with it."
    The bartender cocked his head to the side, to angry to realize what the man had meant. The man swung his fist at him, sending him flying backwards and causing him to drop the knife.
    On his way over to the bartender, the man picked up the knife and stood up straight. "You want a show?" He asked all of the scared people, the people who weren't scared were to drunk to figure out what was going on. "I'll give you a show." His voice was demonic, hissing like a snake.
    He was swift and cat like when he ran to the bartender, sliding the blade up under his rib cage and out again between two of his ribs. He then lifted the blade, making a horrible cracking noise. The bartender's rib was broken and he was bleeding badly, but he wasn't dead.
    "Call me a brat to get what I want, but I wanted you dead, and I was thirsty." He then gently glided the blade across the mans throat, slitting it, and sending the bartender to his grave.
    The dark man then stood, walked over to the bottle of wine, and placed it to his lips. He smiled and walked out.