The bouncer took another step closer to Joules. Blind rage drew itself over the man’s face. Joules backpedaled, but a ring was forming around the two of them. Patrons and staff from inside the bar exited in droves to watch the nascent fight begin. They pulled out cell phones and pointed them at him.

“I don’t know what the hell you did, punk,” the bouncer said, “but you’re gonna wish you hadn’t.”

Joules still wasn’t sure what exactly he’d done in the first place. All he knew was that it had to do with the ghost - no, it had a name: 「Do Dope Fuck Hope」. What a strange name, but supernatural nomenclature was the least of his worries at the moment. And, of course, the one time he needed the ghost it wasn’t there. Figured.

Someone from the bar muscled his way through the crowd towards the bouncer. “What the hell’s going on, Ty?”

Ty brushed the man off. “This asshole here broke my wrist.”

Joules didn’t bother arguing semantics with the man.

“That looks pretty bad,” the bartender said. “We should get you to a hospital.”

Ty pushed his fellow employee away. “Not before I teach this kid a lesson.”

The small hope of a peaceful resolution to the situation died inside Joules. He wasn’t out of shape, but the bouncer had an easy hundred pounds and five inches on him. He wasn’t walking out of there in one piece, not with the anger boiling over in his opponent.

If you were gonna show up, now would be the time.

The iron lump in his stomach weighed him down, even as time seemed to slow. The bouncer barreled toward him, his good hand balled into a fist. Before Joules could react, the fist caught him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He staggered forward as he crumpled around Ty’s fist, Nausea flooded him, and the bile in his empty stomach threatened to spew out from him.

He fell back and instinctively coiled into the fetal position, desperate to protect his soft underbelly. Tears welled in his eyes, and his mouth was suddenly filled with saliva.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Ty mocked. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with pieces of shit like you, but I’ll be damned if I don’t enjoy it.”

No one moved to help Joules up like they had for the bouncer. He closed his eyes and waited for it to be over.

The bouncer lit a cigarette from his pocket, took a drag, then spit on the ground towards Joules. “Don’t ever let me catch you around here. I’m putting the word out. You won’t be able to get a Shirley-fucking-Temple in this city after tonight.”

By the movement of feet on pavement, Joules knew that the crowd was dispersing. They knew just as well as he did that the fight was over. He could almost taste their disappointment, but the bouncer must have known the difference between retaliation and beating a helpless person all but crying for his mom.

Despair displaced nausea inside him. Ice ran through his veins. Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck you. Powerless words could not propel him. Why couldn’t he do anything? Why couldn’t he ever do anything? Why was everything so goddamn hard? Nobody understood. They all thought he was a failure. It was all over their faces. Maybe he was a failure.

He pushed himself up with shaking hands. Nobody paid him any mind. His breaths came in short bursts, and he swayed as he stood up, dizziness distorting his vision like a 3D movie without the glasses.

“Hey,” he said. His words were quiet, hollow. Nobody looked at him. The bouncer had his back turned, and the rest of the patrons had begun to return to their normal night.

“Hey,” he said, louder this time. “I’m talking to you.”

The bouncer turned through a cloud of smoke. He almost laughed. “Drop it, kid. Go home.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the navy hand of his invisible companion. 「Do Dope Fuck Hope」produced a wicked syringe from a bandolier slung across his torso. He jammed the needle into Joules’ carotid artery. Boiling black liquid, not like any blood Joules had ever seen filled the capsule. The spirit injected the black liquid into his own arm.

“Fuck you.”

The bouncer squinted. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it underneath his boot. “What did you say?”

Emboldened, though thoroughly unsure of what was happening, he repeated himself.

“I said: fuck you.”

Once again, the chatter from the bar patrons died like a candle snuffed out by the wind. The bouncer’s chest rose and fell with each mighty breath, a raging bull in human clothing. He cracked his neck.

“That’s what I thought you said.”

He lunged forward, before Joules or anyone in the crowd could react. Anger covered his face like a primitive war paint. He lowered his shoulder to catch Joules in an unstoppable charge, but 「Do Dope Fuck Hope」was quicker. With the syringe still half full of black liquid, it plunged the needle into Ty’s neck. The huge man fell backward, swatting the air as if to catch some miserable insect, but all his wild hand caught was air. Joules watched his hand flail around and pass through where 「Do Dope Fuck Hope」stood, barely a meter away. Then, the man went still. His eyes bulged and horror broke out across his face like a small child confronted with a nightmare made flesh.

Ty began to back away on his rear, pushing and worming away from something unseen. Tears erupted from his eyes, and he let out a terrible wail. Then, he fell still, sobbing into the concrete.

Joules was as speechless as the bouncer. He hadn’t even lifted a finger, yet 「Do Dope Fuck Hope」had stepped in again.

Fear. Hate. Despair.

His knees buckled as a sense of pure ecstasy emanated out from 「Do Dope Fuck Hope」. It was all he could do not collapse as well. Once again, the crowd fixed their gaze on him. This time, however, they watched in incredulity rather than surprise. They’d all seen it; the punk who’d started a beef with the bouncer had simply stood there while the bouncer fell over in shock, sobbing into the cold ground. Nobody could explain it, so they stared in silence.

Joules grabbed a beer from a stunned onlooker and downed it in a single gulp. It tasted like victory, and a warm glow burned away the cold that had gripped him. Knowing that there was nothing more to be done outside Tap Out, he broke the bottle on the ground and turned back the way he came.

To be continued...