The Bar in the Darkness

Leah slid back into her car, locking the doors out of instinct. The sky had darkened, the last traces of daylight swallowed by the ever-present fog. She didn't even realize how late it had gotten.

Turning the key, the engine rumbled to life, and she slowly drove deeper into town. The buildings loomed taller here, casting long shadows over the streets. The silence felt heavier, almost unnatural, as if the town itself was holding its breath.

Then light.

A warm, flickering glow spilled onto the road from a building ahead. A bar.

Leah's grip on the wheel tightened. So there were people here.

She pulled up to the curb, shutting off the car. Music hummed faintly from inside, a slow, haunting tune that sent chills up her spine. Through the large windows, she could see silhouettes figures moving, talking, drinking.

Leah exhaled, steadying herself.

Finally, a sign of life.

Grabbing her camera, she stepped out and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

The moment she stepped inside, all conversation stopped.

And every pair of eyes turned to her.