There's always this thing about a curse. Normally those would say that it originates and could carry out through generations.

I would normally throw my head back and laugh, calling it's bluff.

But now. I've realized. I've been horribly wrong. Wronger than I had ever been on my entire damn life.

And now.

I am living my curse.

--

A sharp sting flared across my cheek. My eyelids hesitantly opened to see a woman hovering over me with a blanket of darkness surrounding her head. My vision was blurred out, the woman's hands reached towards my face. I try to lift my hand up to stop her but it doesn't budge an inch. My entire body felt like it was being pressed further into the ground.

A hushed voice stopped my train of thought. "You should wake up."

There was a slight ghost-like fog surrounding the woman, I couldn't make of what she looked like because of it. It was just her and I, immersed in complete darkness-not an object in sight.

"What....the...hell?" I grunted. My teeth were clenched together so my words became choked out. My entire body was frozen, including my teeth.

There was a light Creole accent to her voice.

"Edward!"

I could something firm but cold press against my forehead, forcing my eyes open to come face to face with the bartender-a.k.a Tamina Fields. My eyes shot on to my arms, the veins were nearly protruding out of my fair skin. My rough, calloused hands clenched into fists.

Tammy moves the whiskey bottle from my forehead. "Jesus, didja get any sleep?" She asks, setting the whiskey bottle back to the shelf behind her that withheld so many other alcoholic beverages. My hands slightly shook at the realization that me being paralyzed was just another terrible dream. With a grunt, I fork my fingers through my choppy hair.

Bright light shines over the bar. The other bartenders appeared to have clocked out due to the empty bar. Tammy and I worked at the Whiskey Coven, a bar that you'd find at the downtown area of New York, despite all the other fancier outlets.

The Whiskey Coven. The familiar scent of booze, cigarettes and cheap perfume and cologne. I work here as a bouncer, to keep people in line and to make sure that Tammy didn't have another dispute with her customers.

To tell you the truth, I don't know why I'm here or what Tamina could possibly see in me. Regardless, I am grateful that she isn't berating me or calling me a monster of some sort.

Tammy polishes another shot glass with a fresh rag, her back facing mine. Tammy was rather really petite, despite her broad shoulders and curvaceous figure. Her dark dreads had stopped above her shoulders and was pinned back in a ponytail, causing some strands to frame her face and underneath her African patterned head wrap that she always wore. She wore the classic bartender uniform: a satin button down dark shirt with black slacks.

She is the only person I really seem to get along with in this shithole town. The only woman that could actually look at me without being scared out of her wits.

We met here, at the bar. Some drunk fuck was trying to flirt with Tammy even though she told the man numerous times to stop. It was all fun and games until he hopped over the bar and tried to kiss her, in which I dragged him out of the bar. After the dispute ended, Tammy thanked me and offered me a job as a bouncer due to my quick reaction to guys like him. Her reaction really threw me in for a loop since I was used to women cowering in fear and running away from me in fears that I would "hurt them next".

Her dad owns the bar and most of the time he is out handling business regarding keeping The Whiskey Coven up and running.

The place itself was designed by Mr. Fields. From the red brick walls to the dark polished wooden floor. The left side of the store had booths aligned against the wall while the very middle had wooden circular tables. There were old chalkboards that were hung next to the booths. Tammy had her way with the bar too. She had chandeliers hanging along with intricate little patterns on it. The bar itself had the word beer carved into it with multiple languages along the countertop.

"He still likes to add several touches to it" Tamina would always say. There were floor lamps with beige lighting in the very corners of the building. If you looked at this place whole. You would imagine it as a cabin...but with a touch of red cushions inside the booths and barstools.

"Ed."

My name brought me back to my senses, Tammy was now in front of me, her elbows rested on top of the counter. "That woman asked you a question." She added as she pointed her finger to the left.

My eyes cut over to see a woman. She looked no older than twenty, maybe twenty one. She sat on the barstool backwards, her back pressed against the countertop. The woman had the same complexion as Tamina's, chocolate brown. Her down turned almond shaped eyes resembled like a dark emerald. Her long black braids cascaded along her back like a waterfall. She is pretty beautiful. Without a doubt.

Tammy's eyes ran up and down the woman's body. Her mouth slightly drops in awe. The woman dressed rather differently, she wore a skirt that had several pearl-like trinkets attached to it, underneath she wore leather leggings. The woman appeared to wear clothing that would catch the eyes of any hungry eyed man in New York.

Her plump lips curved up into a smile. "Ed huh? Such a nice name for a handsome man." She complimented with a pearly white smile, the silver rings pierced into her bottom lip curving upwards. Tammy covers her mouth from giggling at my reaction. Tammy knew me for a while, she knew I wasn't really prone to affection or all that other romantic bullshit.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Knock it off." I grunted. "Do you need something or are you here to make my night a living hell?"

The woman closed her eyes, grinning blissfully to herself as she rested her elbows on the countertop. "You're funny blondie."

I suppressed the urge to curse and continued to stare daggers at her, she didn't seem to pay attention and neither did Tammy.

There was a pause. "Actually..." The woman pondered to herself, tapping her finger on her chin. "I was meant to ask you about the murders that had been happening for the past few months."

That. The murders that took place around twelve in the morning. The victims were either working girls or drunk men that were trying to call an uber home. The methods were all the same: laid against the wall in the alley as if they're crucified, no evidence to be seen.

There were fourteen victims in total. The killer remained anonymous. What throws the media in for a loop is the fact that there were words written on some part of their body-left exposed as if the killer was leaving a message for all of us to see such as: Liar, hooker, depressing, gay.

It seemed that the killer had targeted people who had seemed full of wickedness to them.

I gazed at the woman who sat next to me, she didn't seem to be a detective.

This woman was odd. She seemed to be the type to wander into thrift shops, being obsessed with aesthetic products at some thrift store. She smelled of jasmine and honey. Why would someone like her want to know about the murders?

Tammy clicked her tongue. Her big pine colored eyes scanned the woman. "I think that you're lost ma'am, this a bar, not a crime investigation scene."

The woman seemed to be unbothered by Tammy's underhanded remark. She turned a little, resting her hand on her cheek. "But that's the thing...they all connect in some way...they all seem to have went to this exact bar on the same night that they died."

My teeth gnashed together. If that was true then the authorities will for sure close this place for investigating soon. Tammy and her father would be absolutely devastated if that happens.

The woman put her hands up as if she lost a war and is surrendering. A easygoing smile plastered on her face.

Tammy instinctively smiled. Deep down I knew she was afraid of having Mr. Fields and her dream being shut down due to some linked murders. The woman shifted her gaze from Tammy to mine.

My blood ran cold. She looked oddly familiar to me. As if she was there to see me paralyzed in a pit full of darkness.

I raised an eyebrow. "Have we met?"

The woman simply shrugs. "You're that guy that keeps people in line here, you often keep a extra twenty dollars in case you needed an extra shot to calm your nerves."

I tried to hide my shock by sitting up a little straighter. My eyebrows furrowed as my lips curved into a slight scowl. "How did you know that?"

"I'm a observant person." She vaguely answered. "Plus, when the customer ratio weighs down by closing hour, you always come to the bar."

Tammy blinks with astonishment. "Who are you? You don't seem to be around from here."

"Louisiana, New Orleans. Born and raised." She answers with pride. "I'm Loralei but friends call me Lei for short."

Lorelei. A old name that originated from some creature singing above the rocks at sea that led sailors to their demise along with their ships. What a morbid name for someone to give their own kid.

Lei seemed to have a thick Creole accent on her tongue, her voice was calm and relaxed. She is pretty beautiful, especially with her African American features, although no race officially defines beauty.

Tammy beamed at Loralei. "What a beautiful name!" She complimented.

Loralei giggled as she waved her hand dismissively. "Mine is no where as unique as yours, Tamina."

The two began to exchange conversation. I slowly find myself stepping away from the bar.

It's always been a habit of mine. The only one who seems to trust and really like having me around is Tamina herself. The people I have known are either fearful or disgusted by how I am.

Even though I'm trying to live without the weight of my past on me, I am still a pretty pragmatic asshole with a addiction to Mavericks.

I glanced over my shoulder towards Tamina. She was hunched over the countertop of the bar, engaging in a immersive conversation with Loralei, who simply rested her chin on top of her folded hands. Her eyes flickered over to me, a small smirk uplifting on her diamond shaped face. I rolled my eyes as she shifted her eyes back to Tammy.

Something about her...seems a little off.

My body freezes as my thoughts come together. Her thick accent, the tone of her voice, how she immediately knew the common things that I tend to do around closing hours...if this is true then it all makes sense.

She sounds a lot like the woman from my nightmare.

No...no...stop. Ed you're jumping to conclusions again. There is no way that woman knows about you, she is a very observant person...you're overthinking it.

My thoughts overlapped one another as I tried to find a logical explanation behind my theories.

My biggest question was saved for last...

How come I had never seen her before?