The time was past nine. Sitting comfortably on his high-powered Triumph Rocket III ’04, wearing black leather jackets, pants and black, solid boots, riding hard and fast, with the wind howling around him, flapping hard against his face and whipping strands of hair into his eyes, Victor – his proper name was — Vincent Stratton, squinted his eyes at the old and dusty road sign which stood raggedly in thicket along the lone, broad, highway.
The sign says – WELCOME TO FUR RIVERS – 2km He regarded the sign as he rode by and grunted his satisfaction. He shifted gear, the bike roared with pleasure and surged forward powerfully, as the road unrolled. The darkness of the night, which had enveloped him, brought memories........oh! such past memories......good and bad and sordid.......came flooding into his mind and he gripped the bike’s handlebar tightly until his knuckles turned white. This was not the time for this. He thought. This was not the time to go delving into the past, looking for what’s lost and what’s not.
Aged twenty three, Victor was tall, dark and powerfully built. His muscular body had been tanned deftly golden brown, by the sun. His hair, thick and cut short, was the color of charcoal. He had a square shaped face with rugged planes; high cheekbones, aggressive jaw, a short blunt nose and a small lip. His eyes were stormy and dark. He was an intensely good-looking young man with a splendid, athletic body.
For the past two years now, he had been a drifter. He had rode into different towns….Eagle’s Peak, Rocky City, Steel Mountains, Hangman Town, Gold Land Mines….doing old menials jobs, screwing women who had threw themselves at him, knocking out men who had looked for his trouble and finally moving on after getting tired of the town all in a quest to escape his guilts and worries.
He had been banished from his pack for succumbing to the temptation of the Luna of his pack, losing his esteemed position as Delta. The guilt of his pasts had hunted for the past two years and now as he rode, the promise of freedom beckoned from the darkness ahead, a sign of a fresh start. Grinning with relief, he entered the desolate town of Fur Rivers with the cocky, fearless streak of the Ghost Rider.
The eerie silence of the deserted streets unnerved him, as if the entire population had vanished into thin air, leaving only his triumphant heartbeat echoing in the night. As he rode on, he observed the houses along the desolate, cold streets. The entire area was eerily quiet and deserted, giving off a ghostly vibe. The only sound he heard was the roar of his motorcycle. It seemed like everyone in town had collectively decided to stay indoors. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was past nine, and while it was late and cold, the level of quietness felt unusual.
Ahead, just sixty yards away, the glowing neon sign of "Sam's Bar" caught his attention. Desperate for a drink and some answers about the happenings in the town, he sped up his motorcycle towards the bar, wearing a grim expression. Parking his bike, he grabbed his duffel bag, dropped the keys in his pocket, and slung the bag over his shoulder and walked in. Then he stopped in his tracks as if he had just walked into a wall.
Inside the bar, it was chaotic.. Tables and chairs lay overturned, while glass shards glinted on the floor. A broken window let in a gust of wind, adding to the disorder. Despite the mess, a few men lingered around, their faces displaying a mix of fear, anger, and shock as they watched Victor. He realized this wasn't just a typical bar fight; it was utter mayhem. Glancing at the men, their eyes held a mixture of questions, threats, and fear, permeating the air with their palpable terror.
“What do you want, man?” one of the men said. He was a negro, with black wavy hair, dark eyes and a big, hunk of body. His face was cold and sweaty. “What are you doing here? Are you one of them?”
“Yeah! Are you one of them?” one of the men from the room chipped in. “I’ve never seen your face around here! Are you planning to take over this place? Eat us like that......that.....animal?” his voice was trembling badly.
Victor did not even know who had talked bathe had detected fear in the voice of the speaker. Animal, he wondered. What animal?. And that strange feeling he had felt when he had rode into town began to snake through his body.
There was a low, murmuring among the men. He could hear some grunting, and growling but no one made a move. He regarded them. There was a kind of enmity.....an hateful, belligerent wave....... steaming from them. It was as if they were ready to tear him apart for God’s know why. Unless he talked to them – calm them down – that’s more like it.
“I want no trouble with you, fellows. I just got into town tonight. All I need is a drink and a place to sleep. And if you don’t want me in your town, then I won’t take any more of your time, gentlemen. But like I said, a drink and a place to sleep. That’s all I need”
The whole room was dead silent. The men were all looking at Victor, their faces expressionless. He met their gazes, his eyes calm and yet unflinching; no one talked; no one moved.