I’ve always stayed sober, as that is a requirement for working as a bartender. You also have to know when one is drunk by the way they walk, or the way they talk and all. Drunk driving is a major cause of death, after all.
The local band was playing some good slow jazz that night. The van that arrived that day was a pretty red. About eight or nine people came out of the red van, a sign that they were carpooling. Apparently, the van’s driver wanted to make sure they weren’t going to drive home drunk.
The dive bar I’d been working at always had at least one person going violent in a drunken rage, and last night would have had the usual customer going super crazy after getting drunk, if not for what the hell happened.
This group of people I served were a real piece of work. Each of them ordered Twitch Bitches and Undying Totes, and I was serving them. Only one of the guys in this reprobated group didn’t drink.
“Hey, c’mon, Norman! Why aren’t you joining in?”
“Yeah, Norman, don’t you enjoy alcohol once in a while?”
“N-no thank you. I-I’m allergic–”
The dirty bums slammed him down.
“C’mon, Norm! Can’t you have a drink at least once?”
“No, doc said–”
“Sucks to your doctor! Why don’t you drink and have some pleasure!?”
The band stopped playing for about five seconds. When they resumed playing, I asked Norman about his allergy.
“Look, miss, alcohol will give me hives for days should it get inside my system! There is no way I’m doing this! I’m only here for the music! For the billiards!”
“Aw, c’mon, Norman! That’s bullshit! You know you wanna drink!”
Then those guys started chanting.
“NOR-MAN! NOR-MAN! NOR-MAN!”
The man refused, even when they were pressuring him.
“Fuck you guys! Fuck you fuck you fuck you–!”
Then one of the guys from that red van just forced some of his drink down Norman’s throat. I should have known something was off from the beginning, but I just went on with my job.
But once the drink got into Norman, his body fell to the floor and he started convulsing. The convulsions were so violent that I was about to call the ambulance on him when I heard a loud crack coming from him.
His eyes turned blank and yellow. His normal, clean teeth were replaced with sharp, yellow fangs. His ginger-colored hair became rough spikes and horns.
The rest of his body made me vomit into the trashcan next to the door that said, “Employees Only.”
The normally human body with the torso, legs, and arms was replaced with something like that of a wolf’s, but more oily and with claws all over.
None of the other guys were aware–they were all too drunk to realize what was going on.
The monster that was Norman roared so loud that the band stopped playing and each band member was staring with a horrified look on their faces. All the other employees were staring in shock as the Norman-monster slashed each of the customers’ bodies. I reached for my rifle and kept on shooting the Norman-monster, but he just wouldn’t die. The dive bar’s owner finally lost it when my coworker got beheaded.
Dead of the beheading and of hemorrhaging. The Norman-monster kept swinging his claws on all of the drunken bums and they all kept bleeding out. It was when the local police officers showed up with a strong tranquilizer gun that he finally got calm.
The monster went to sleep by the tranquilizer dart, and once he fell asleep, he changed back into Norman.
This incident never made it past the local newspaper. Normally, something this crazy would make the national news, but it didn’t. The bar is currently closed for cleanup and sanitization so that none of us get sick of even COVID-19.
I’m on paid leave for until the bar opens again since the owner is responsible for the damage caused. I had no involvement in the incident other than serving drinks to those guys.
But now, I seem to have an aversion to alcohol. Not to serving it, but to drinking it. Every time I see a drink, my own gut keeps hurting like I shouldn’t even be near it.
I think Norman’s own infection has been transferred into me.