On a particularly boisterous night, one heavily intoxicated customer, irate with indignation after his failed attempt threw his finger into Barlow’s face.
“You’re a dirty filthy cheat”, he said. “ it’s locked. If I’m a liar then prove me wrong and you lift it!” He slurred, nose to chest with the massive bartender.
A hush fell over the establishment. Speaking to Barlow in such a manner was ill-advised. Yet to everyone’s great surprise a huge grin spread across the giant’s face, he gently lifted the man from under his arms and set him aside like a small child. Then reaching down he grabbed the door's thick handle with one hand, muscles bulging against the weight, and lifted it wide open before letting it slam back shut, bursting into gregarious laughter.
Having long been curious about what was beyond that door, I suspect I was the only one at a proper angle to see inside it for that brief moment. There was no cellar, just a deep tunnel that ran farther than my eyes could see. A chill ran down my spine as I looked up and found two violet eyes staring at me, the smile now gone.
