“Drink, drink, drink!” The chanting of those surrounding the valiant few revellers permeated the lively atmosphere of the tavern, spreading out even into the streets outside. Adrian let himself become consumed by the sound of immense merrymaking, even as he gulped the raw liquid down his throat. He set his tankard down, a scant few seconds after another, and felt his head rush as oxygen returned to his body sending a wave of debilitating inebriation crashing through his bloodstream. It was truly intoxicating, and he had yet to find any other feeling like it. A great, good natured, cheer was loosed for the mighty drinkers who finished in time, then activity returned to that loud slightly above comfortable hubbub common in a busy tavern. Adrian sat back in his seat with a sigh, looking around at his friends and brothers, surrounded as he was by the other farm workers (save his Father). Viktor, his eldest brother, smiled good-naturedly and patted Adrian on the shoulder, shaking him from his dangerous restfulness. “Nice one brother, you always could down a tankard aye?” He bellowed rhetorically, and the others laughed and Adrian felt a moment of pride, however misplaced, it was a warm fuzzy feeling he felt seldom. “You know it Viktor, it’s my drink after all!” Adrian replied, and David nodded in approval, the oldest there by far. “Not a bad drink at all kid, good batch, not too fruity, not too rough.” He said, and the others agreed with the statement, in fact Adrian was about to order another tankard when an unwholesome silence suddenly fell upon the tavern. People shivered as the air grew unexplainably cold, and Adrian perked his ears up just in time to catch the tail end of a terrible scream. The screams were like a contagion, growing in volume so that the tavern goers were aware that multiple voices had joined the first to send a wave of inexplicable terror through the little town. Adrian rose quickly and gracelessly, joining the group of elder men who were rushing to see what the matter was, most expecting fire. It was far worse. Men and women and children were rushing haphazardly through the streets, grabbing relatives and loved ones and making a beeline for whatever cover they could find. Two women brushed past Adrian, almost unbalancing him in his semi-intoxicated state as they rushed into the tavern, their eyes wild. From across the way a complete darkness was creeping like an oncoming storm, the like of which the young farm-hand had never seen before. It terrified him to the very core. “Everyone into the tavern!” Men were shouting, Viktor had taken it upon himself to grab some of the little ones who had no hope of reaching safety and thrusting them into the presumed safety of the well-lit tavern. Adrian just stared dumbstruck, and a thousand blood-red eyes stared back at him from the dark expanse, the screaming reaching a fever pitch. Then, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder and David was there, pulling him through the doors alongside the last few stragglers, before the heavy wooden door was pulled shut and the screeches were cut and muffled. Darkness enveloped the town.