Part One

It started like many strange events do, with the arrival of a mysterious stranger.

Jonathon was busy cleaning one of the glasses behind the bar when the door to the Rose Bairn swung open, letting gusts of icy wind and a man dressed in a black leather jacket into the cozy pub. Normally, Jonathon would think nothing of it. His job was to keep the pub clean and to serve drinks to the lonely souls who drifted into his little establishment.

But this man was different. Beneath wild eyes, his sockets were ringed with black and blue bruises; signs of lack of sleep and perhaps many other things. However, that was not what got Jonathon's attention. It was the man's facial expression.

Messy eyebrows drawn together, his eyes blinking in the dim light of the pub, the man looked ready to keel over. He grabbed onto the back of one of the rickety chairs close by in order to regain his balance.

"Hey there. Why don't you take a seat? Is there anything you'd like to drink?" Jonathon called, his voice cutting across the quiet murmurs of the other patrons.

The wild-eyed man didn't answer but took Jonathon's offer. As he moved to take a seat at the bar, Jonathon put down the glass he held. Something was wrong with this man.

Droplets of sweat gathered on his brow and his face was sallow-skinned and crumpled. He looked like a dead man walking.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

For a moment Jonathon wasn't sure the fevered man heard him, but then the man lowered himself onto one of the teetering bar stools and pointed to the faucet behind Jonathon.

The man had come to a pub to get water. Jonathon frowned. There was definitely something not quite right with this man.

Nonetheless, Jonathon got the man a cup of water, even adding a couple of ice cubes. He had barely set it on the bar in front of him when the man snatched the glass from his hand, draining the drink in a series of hurried gulps. A second later the glass was placed back on the wooden counter with a solid thud.

"Would you like another?" The man nodded.

Jonathon got him another glass before watching the man down the water in a similar fashion to the first glass. However, the man didn't look any better, if anything he looked worse.

"Look, man, are you alright? Is there someone I need to call?" Jonathon finally dared to ask. The man's dark eyes stared at Jonathon before the man's cracked lips opened, showing a line of white, but crooked, teeth.

"No. The only one to call would be her, and I ain't goin' back." Jonathon nodded hesitantly, puzzled. A woman did all of this to one man? How was that even possible?

"Well, if she caused this to happen, I can't say I blame you." The other man nodded solemnly, reaching for the glass of water that was once again full. "Well, is there anything I can do? I have some Tylenol hanging around here somewhere."

"Pills won't help. She's cursed me, she has." The man's voice was bitter as he spoke, his words coming out gruffly from out behind dry lips.

"Cursed you? You make her sound like a witch," Jonathon responded, hastily putting the bottle of pills away as he tried to add some humor to the situation.

"She's no witch, I'll tell ya that much." The man eyed Jonathon skeptically. "What do ya believe in? God? Ghosts? Faeries?" Jonathon rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, his fingers brushing across day old stubble. How was he supposed to answer that?

He had been raised a Christian, just like everyone else in his family, but after working so long in a place like the Rose Bairn, he started to wonder if there wasn't something missing from his worldview. Out in the middle of nowhere, far from most cities, the pub was a breeding place for strange happenings.

It would be an odd day if something out of the norm didn't happen. Or perhaps, that just was his normal now.

"I believe in anything that I have proof exists," Jonathon said. The man nodded.

"So do ya believe in faeries? In the fae?" Jonathon cocked his head, letting his eyes wander to the other patrons of the pub. They weren't paying attention to his conversation. Not that they would. Folk out here weren't strangers to mysterious happenings.

"Yeah, I suppose I do."

"Have ya ever seen a faerie maiden?" Jonathon shook his head. "Then count yourself as lucky, lad. This woman of the fae, she trapped me, caught me in her grasp."

"How did she trap you?" Jonathon asked, raising an eyebrow as he refilled the man's glass yet again.

"By charming me. Ya see, she don't curse men, she charms them. Lulls them into a false sense of safety before bam!" The man slammed his hand on the top of the counter, causing several patrons to glance over warily. "She traps 'em in her web of lies and promises."

Jonathon was quiet for a moment, processing this. Part of him felt like this was symbolism for something, but the man across from him didn't strike him as the kind for hidden meanings.

"But how did she even find you in the first place?"

"Oh no, lad. I found her."