You Just Met Nick Archfiend

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Henry Lee and an albino stranger have quite a night at Buckhead's Tavern, but the albino is not so much of a stranger, to any of us.

This story takes place in a made up county in Georgia, U.S.A. It also takes place in a tavern named Buckhead's and it features a good ol' boy by the name of Henry Lee Clay. The ending will explain why you're reading this and what the story is really about, and at the same time give you a different perspective of an old story we're all accustomed to. I put hints in the dialouge to give you a hint of who The Stranger is. It's a dark comedy mixed with a tinge of horror.

I'm no racist but some dialouge has racist and stereotypical dialouge, so please, if you get offended easily, read it and then email me about how much of a prick I am, it takes place in the south, so what do you expect. (That was kinda racist too, I'm sorry)

This is the firts thing I have ever wrote, so I'm sorry if it's not grammatically correct.


Henry Lee
The Stranger
Pearl May

Submitted: February 13, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 13, 2011



You Just Met Nick Archfiend
Raleigh, Georgia
Buckhead’s Tavern is located on the dimly lit corner of Muscogee and Jefferson. Buckhead’s doesn’t have a proper sign outside, so the only way patrons are able to distinguish it as a tavern is the single neon Coor’s promotional sign on the window. The usual patrons consist of employees from the Darlington Cement Factory and other general laborers in Raleigh. Even the resident old timer Elrod is like an antique piece of furniture at Buckhead’s, rambling on how “things used to be” and other politically incorrect rants. Buckhead’s is run by Beau “Buckhead” Kipper, a real life Homer Simpson with the exception of a pair of reading glasses. Upon entering Buckhead’s, you’ll notice a billiard table to the right, and right next to it is an old jukebox. To the left is the sitting area and straight ahead is the bar. Behind the bar is a large Confederate flag. Right below the flag are two machetes nailed to the wall with nails placed between their respective handles and blades holding them up against the wall; they are crossed, representing a warning to those who dare talk ill of the tenets the flag represents. This shrine is an ode to the old south, as well as the hope of secession from the United States government.
Henry Clay is sitting at the far right side of the bar drinking his double shot of Jack Daniels. Henry is an employee at the Darlington cement factory and is wearing his blue uniform with his name stitched to it. Henry has a reputation of telling his dirty and racist jokes, but he is mainly known around town in regards to his wife running off with a Negro five years ago, so his distaste for blacksare now more apparent than ever, and he proudly voiced them from time to time.
“Say Beau, what’s that bottle with the deer on the label?”
“That one” Beau replies pointing at the bottle, “that’s a moose, and it’s also Canadian whiskey.”
“Why the hell would you have a bottle of Canadian whiskey down here? Let me get a lil’ sample of it”
“It ain’t even opened yet”
“Well open that sonbitch and give me a taste, c’mon on now, you know I’m the sample taster ‘round here”. Beau opens the bottle and grabs a shot glass off the rack, he pours Henry a shot and hands it to him, and Henry shoots it back and shakes off the after taste. “God damn, Capers can’t make whiskey worth a shit” Beau pours himself a shot and shoots it back. “Let me get another double of the black stuff and a Bud when you’re done there Beau”. Sitting to Henry’s left, three stools away is Jed and Bean, old coworkers from Henry’s previous construction job. “Say Jed, how’s it going working for that rattlesnake foreman Kerns?”
“Good, steady” Jed replies
“Ain’t what I heard, I heard that place hit a real shit storm once I left, ain’t that right Bean?” Bean resembles a human bullfrog, a short, stubby slow talker with a thick pair of glasses, bulging eyes, saggy cheeks and wearing his usual baseball cap.
“Right if it ain’t wrong” replies Bean, “but I thought you got fried from that job Henry?”
“What’s the difference” in a rhetorical tone.
“Well, quitting, or leaving as you put it, means you relieve yourself from your duties based on your own convictions, and being fired basically means you’ve been relieved from your duties involuntarily”
“Well I relieve you from being a pain in my ass Bean, how ‘bout that?”
“I don’t mean anything by it Henry, I just thought you were confused, that’s all. Lord knows, I get confused once in a while, as a good Christian, I feel it’s my duty to help out my fellow man, even in the most trivial of pursuits, whatever that means”
Pearl May, a blonde with blue eyes and a thin frame is also a regular at Buckhead’s, although not much is really known of her and her current state of employment or life in general, but her reputation at Buckhead’s as an engaging flirtatious kitten precedes her. Pearl May has this habit of whispering into men’s ears, an attempt of allurement followed by a swift spurn. She walks up behind Jed and on cue whispers something into his ear
“Say now, ain’t any secrets kept round here” Henry takes notice “what she telling you there Jed?”
“Aw, Henry baby, you need some attention over there?”
“Sure do, I’m feeling quite lonely”
“Well, why don’t you go home to your wife and get some, oh, wait a sec?”
“Now, watch your mouth or I’ll put it to use”
Pearl May leaves the conversation and heads towards the ladies room, while Henry follows her with his eyes. “Some mouth on her, they used to make them like that back in your day El!?” directing to Elrod, who’s sitting at a table in the sitting area
“They never really said much back then”
“Sounds like the good ol’ days, ha!”
“Sure was, it ain’t what it is now. I tell ya, everything is going to hell, especially now that they have a bamboo Muslim sitting behind the big desk, this country is bound straight to the inferno”
“You tell ‘em El”
The jukebox kicks into life and picks up a 45 and places it on the turntable, the usual crackle you get from the record is audible, and after a quiet couple of seconds the song kicks in: “There's a man goin' 'round takin' names. An' he decides who to free and who to blame. Everybody won't be treated all the same. There'll be a golden ladder reaching down, when the man comes around.” Johnny Cash’s sonorous voice fills the bar; at the same time a very tall man enters and is over-dressed for a Thursday night at Buckhead’s. He is wearing an executive 3-button wool suit with a black dress shirt and a red tie; he is also wearing a black wool felt fedora with a red tie-style band and a brief case in his hand. Apart from his expensive taste in clothes, his most noticeable appearance is his albino complexion. He stands in front of the entrance while he surveys Buckhead’s; at the same time the regulars are surveying him. The stranger makes his way to the bar and takes a seat next to Henry. Henry is taken back from his height, style, and ironically, the strangers extremely white skin.
“What the hell are you supposed to be?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said what the hell are you supposed to be, you some kinda important, business type?”
“Yes, I am an important, business type”
Beau walks over to the stranger as he is polishing a mug, “Whadda ya havin”
“Can I please have a glass of red wine?”
“We don’t have red wine here, you’re gonna have to order something else”
“Hmmm, ok, I’ll just have a coffee then”
“We ran out”
“You ran out of coffee? Well, what do you have?”
“What you see is what we got”
“Alright, I’ll have…a scotch and water”
Beau walks away curiously eyeing the stranger and Henry back and forth; Pearl May walks out of the ladies room and her attention is immediately aimed towards the stranger, curiously she saunters over to him “Oooh, Henry baby, who’s your friend?” Pearl May leans the back of her elbows on the bar as her breast is protruding out towards the stranger’s direction
“He ain’t a friend of mine” Henry answers
“I guess not, it don’t seem like it with his expensive suit and long…size. So Whadda ya supposed to be sugar, some kinda important business type?” the stranger can’t help but let a small grin crack his lips
“Get outta here Pearl May, he ain’t interested in your conversation”
“Shut up Henry, like you ever got anything interesting to say, all you do is jab on with your stupid hunting stories and dirty jokes, like anybody wants to hear that, you’re pathetic”
“Oh yeah, well at least I don’t go ahead and screw my landlord from kicking me out of my trailer, that my boyfriend, who’s cheatin on his wife, bought for!”
“At least he didn’t run off with some dirty nig-“
“Hey, hey, hey, let’s calm down” the stranger interjects, “let’s stop the fighting.” Pearl May quickly changes her tone and her attention back to the stranger
“Ain’t nobody fighting baby, that’s how we talk to anotha round here”
“‘Cept she can never shut the hell up.” Pearl May flips Henry the bird and walks behind the stranger drawing an imaginary line from one shoulder to another
“I’ll be right back baby, and then we can formerly meet and get to know one anotha betta”
Beau returns with the stranger's drink and places it front of him. There is a certain aberrant aura that the stranger has brought to Buckhead’s, single handily changing the environment to an uncustomary atmosphere within a minute. He casually sips his drink and gazes at the pictures behind the bar. Mostly all the photographs are of Beau holding up a kill shot from its hind legs with a big grin on his face while resting a hunting rifle on his shoulder. Except for the one that caught the stranger’s eye, it’s a black and white photo of two men out in the woods standing next to five large barrels and a man made chimney with a bucket dangling over it, a copper milk gallon and a boiler that are all connected with a pipe. “That’s a nice picture; it’s almost as if you can see what they are saying to you. I actually have a similar picture, but it’s on a bottle cap, and it’s older too.”
“Boy, what the hell you talkin about, why you talkin about a bottle cap and a fucking picture?”
“I’m just commenting on that picture on the wall, it’s very timely and congenial for a place like this”
“What do you mean ‘for a place like this’, it’s just a picture of two old peckerwoods, why you making a big holler about it, ain’t nothing special, you ain’t never seen peckerwoods in your life, son? You lookin’ at one right now, welcome to the south you regal sonbitch”
“I’m also southerner, more southerner than you’ll think”
“Where from, Florida, Louisiana, Texas, boy you ain’t no southerner, no matter how white you are, and talkin about that, what’s wrong with ya, how the hell you come out lookin’ like something outta the Twilight Zone, and them red eyes, if a nigger saw you in the dead of night, he’ll think the devil himself came for em”
“I’m an albino”
“A what?”
“Albino, it’s a disorder characterized by the complete absence of pigment in the skin, hair and eyes due to absence of an enzyme involved in the production of melanin.” Henry is perplexed and dumb founded, with a face to match. “It means I have no skin or eye tone.”
“Well no shit, so what you doing here in Raleigh, on business?”
“Exactly, on business”
“What kinda business you in, goin’ round bars, talkin’ ‘bout photographs of peckerwoods”
“I’m in the importing-exporting business, more importing than exporting”
“And what, your boss sends you round to bars like this one, have strumpets hit on them, and talk to handsome rednecks like yours truly?”
“Actually I’m the boss”
“Well no shit?“
“No shit”
“Tell me something big boss man, you rich or something?”
“Well, business is good, I do fairly well”
“Well no shit?“
“No shit”
“So what you doin’ here in a dump like this” Henry turns his attention to Beau for a second “no offense Beau”
“Offense on what?” asks Beau
“I’m here looking out for an investment”
“You ain’t got workers that do that for ya?”
“I do, I have assistants and liaisons that handle collections or prospects for the company, but I figured, I haven’t been out in the field for a long time, might as well go back out there and do it myself, like the old days”
“No shit?”
“No shit”
“How’d you get started in your little business venture Mr. Boss man?”

“A long time ago I was working for a company that dabbles in the same line of work as I do. Everything was going fine and working smoothly, until the company started practicing different policies and business conventions. The CEO was tied up in his new investment project that started affecting me and the other workers in a very negative way, he wanted us to placate to his little program and to the people he got involved with, meaning kissing up and letting our freedom be run by these people. Soon after, a lot of our benefits and goals we worked towards was then cut to cater to his ‘master plan’. Some of the other workers and I were sick of it and I was in the mind set of telling our boss exactly how we felt, butas well as suggestions on how we can further improve our operation and production positively along with his program. But, being the-excuse my language, anal retentive, stubborn, power hungry asshole narcissist he is, he fired me and the other workers that felt the same way, I was fired for making suggestions. Once I was fired, I had this burning flame inside me, his company wasn’t functional without me and the other workers, so I created my own business to rival his, and business is a booming. But, he started opening his big mouth to other companies and corporations giving me a bad name and bad reputation, nobody has ever heard my side of the story, and no one cares to. But look at me now, we’re number one in the market. We do share a liaison between one another, he does good work and holds no loyalty, he’s just free lanced.
Free lanced?"
"Yes, this particular liaison is his own boss, and he is very common around our type of business"
“That’s sounds like one hellava story of sticking it to the corporate America that this government help bail out. You gotta meet Elrod, hey El! I got someone you’ll like to meet!” Elrod didn’t hear Henry calling him; instead Elrod finishes his bottle of whiskey and lights up a cigarette. But the stranger is glaring at him, interested, staring as if Elrod and the stranger were acquainted at one point. “That old sonbitch is quite an old timer, funny as hell and bigoted to the bone. He’s a survivor though, was in the Korean war, blew up biscuit heads and gutted gooks when he was over there, did the same in the Vietnam War, he said that he threw a grenade in a school bus, killing all the yellow chinks; now, I don’t believe it, but it’s interesting to hear that old tombstone tell it. He got a whole bunch of stories like that. He was also clan, his daddy was clan, hell, and just about everybody in his family was clan. A while ago, maybe twenty years ago, he shot this little colored kid prowling around his property. Of course, the whole NAACP got all up in Elrod’s and Raleigh’s ass about it and it went to court. Old El wasn’t gonna take no chance, that was a tall colored kid, you know how they breed ‘em, and hedidn’t look like a young nig-nog from far away. The boy’s momma said he was out looking for his dog, and it must of ran off into El’s farm, the boy went looking for it but found a buckshot instead. The cops found a hunting knife on the boy, so nobody knew his motives. The NAACP and the jig’s mom said El planted it there, and the boy neverowned a knife like the one they found on his person. The charges were later dropped and El was acquitted of all charges. From there on, niggers knew better to come around here or around El, ha!”
“Why do you and your friends have so much hostility towards African Americans, why so much hostility period? Those are people, children, and you glorify those stories of them being slain, as if they owed a debt to you or your friend El”
“They’re swine, you some kinda nigger lover, cause if you are, you in the wrong place boy. You see that flag there, what you think it stands for, it don’t stand for love another, it only stands for purity and strength, what you think about that?”
“I’m sorry I brought it up.” The Jukebox kicks into life again, picking another “45 and placing it on the turntable:
“Oh, I'm a good old rebel, now that’s just what I am, and for this Yankee nation, I do not give a damn. I'm glad I fought against her, I only wish we'd won, and I ain't asked any pardon, for anything I've done,” Henry and the other boys take notice and rejoice the songs coincidental cue “Just what I had in mind!” Buckhead’s erupts in a choir and partake in a drunken sing along: “I hates the Yankee nation and everything they do. I hates the declaration of independence, too. I hates the glorious union, just dripping with our blood. I hates the striped banner, and fitted all I could, I road with Robert E. Lee, for three years, thereabout. Got wounded in four places And I starved at Point Lookout. I caught the Rheumatism campin' in the snow, but I killed a chance of Yankees and I'd like to kill some more. 3 hundred thousand Yankees Is stiff in southern dust. We got 3 hundred thousand before they conquered us, they died of Southern Fever and southern steel and shot, I wish there were 3 million Instead of what we got. I can't pick up my musket and fight 'um down no more, but I ain't gonna love 'um now that is certain sure and I don't want any pardon for what I was and am. I won't be reconstructed and I do not give a damn.Oh, I'm a good old rebel,now that’s just what I am, and for this Yankee nation, I do not give a damn. I'm glad I fought a ganner, I only wish we won. I ain’t asked any pardon for anything I've done.”
Whooping and hollering fills the bar along with applause. “That’s some Johnny Rebel there boy, and that song got the answer to what I am and what that flag represents! That’s our national anthem round here!” Jed walks over to Henry and the stranger tofind out what Henry has been dealing with all night “So who’s your friend there Henry?”
“He’s just a picture-nigger lover”
“Picture-nigger lover, what in the hell is that!?”
“Well, First he loves niggers, and second he likes pictures of peckerwoods!” Henry then turns his attention the strangers drink, “Boy, you haven’t touched that drink since you got here, what’s a matter with you?” The stranger shoots the drink all at once and glares at Henry.
“Satisfied?” The stranger asks “I got a drink you boys have to try”
“I don’t know Henry, your friend is a nigger lover and a Yankee northerner, I don’t think I want of anything he got’s, it might make me be an Obama supporter”
“I’m a southerner”
“Yeah, he’s a southerner with a heart of gold” Henry says with a hint of sarcasm.
The stranger grabs his briefcase and places it on the table; he snaps open the locks and pulls out a bottle filled with a green substance, “Give me your glasses” The stranger demands
“I don’t think I want any of that Henry”
“Don’t be a chicken shit Jed; you ain’t ever tried any alien blood before, ha ha ha! But serious what is that shit?” Henry and Jed reluctantly hold out their glass as the stranger pours.
“This is the green muse, or in other cultures known as the devil’s drink, Absinth. Now, drink.” The two good ol’ boys look at one another and shoot it back, and try to shake off the after taste, Henry doesn’t seem bothered by it “This ain’t half bad” but Jed begs a differ, “It taste like shit Henry, how can you say it ain’t half bad? I gotta go to the restroom and see if I can heave this shit out!”
“Pour me another one, friend” The stranger does and Henry shoots it back. “Where’d you find this shit?”
“I’ve had it for a while now”
“I didn’t ask how long you’ve had it; I asked where you got it from?”
“I made it”
“You made this!? You got some talent boy! What’s your name by the way, where is my southern charm?”
“Nick Archfiend”
“Nick Archfiend, pour me another one Nick Archfiend” and Nick does so, this time filling Henry’s entire glass.
“Say, Henry, do you want to see my picture, the picture that I told you about earlier, the one on the bottle cap?”
All of a sudden a crash has interrupted the social setting. A bar stool and table is knocked to the floor along with a glass and bottles shattering to pieces, a body is laying down next to the mess. “Shit, looks like old El had his fill, ha!” Bean, Jed, Beau, and another patron run to Elrod’s stiff body, Jed tries to pick up Elrod and asks him if he’s alright, but no answer, “Elrod, you okay, can you hear me!? Holy shit, Bean get your truck, we gotta get him outta here and to a doctor!”
“Relax, he’s just drunk!”
“He ain’t fucking drunk Henry you asshole, he’s dying!”
Bean and Jed grab Elrod by the arms and legs and take him outside to the truck. Buckhead’s is in shock, the patrons concerned about Elrod, except Henry, “Shit, he had to go sometime” Henry turns to Nick but Nick isn’t there, “Where the hell did he go?” But Henry soon forgets about his newly made friend and puts his glass up to his lips and drinks his glass empty, but he spits some back into his glass, it seemed he drank more than the Absinth, he had a thin, circular piece of metal in his mouth “what the hell is this!” he sticks his finger in his cup and pulls out the object, a bottle cap, he looks at it and see’s the design on top of the bottle cap, it is of a winged creature hovering over a cauldron as it stirs what seems to be it’s Absinth.

© Copyright 2020 javier g. All rights reserved.

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