Station2Station, a small gas station, located just at the edge of the suburbs, a perfect stop for someone on their way to the city. The young clerk, Ash, all alone on her shift, was finally wrapping things up for the night. The clock read 10:30. She got off at 11. Back when she lived in the city, she’d be afraid to work such a late shift; but in the quiet, uneventful suburbs of Summertime Hills, she could relax. The best part, it gave her all the time she needed to slack off and not give a shit, as long as she got the important stuff done and looked busy from time to time, her boss wouldn’t yell at her; work on some college work, listen to some music, play a game on her phone, and then work on some stuff like stocking the shelves. The sound of hail outside too, made her glad she was in here and not being pelted out there.

In the aisles, she worked on stocking the candy shelves, making sure things looked good and orderly in the morning. After this, she’d have just enough time to sit around for a few minutes, then punch out. Then, she focus was broken, as the lights flickered on and off, snapping her out of her zoned out state. “Hm?” She hummed and looked up. A few seconds later, they flickered once more. She, of course, told herself that it was just some faulty wiring; this place had been running from 7-11, everyday, ever since she was a baby. Her gut feeling and inner pessimist told her that it was something darker. She stocked the shelves for a minute or two, no more flickering occurred, causing her spike of fear to subside for the time being. She thankfully had the distant music of her phone to keep her company. A youthful, long haired blonde, with a face full of freckles. Some called her a slacker. She called herself a free spirit.

An easily spooked free spirit.

As the chime of the front door played and the room grew colder from the outside air, the sound of hail drowning everything else out, she called out to the late customer. “Yo!” She said casually, too tired to use her customer service voice. “We close in 30 minutes, so ya gotta hustle.” Setting a box of candy bars down, she headed for the cash register to get it ready.

Turning the corner, her whole body froze.

There at the entrance was a towering man, from where Ash was, he had to be at least 7 feet tall. Clothed in an expensive looking uniform. A metallic chest plate. Dark purple robes lined with white fur. A leathery belt with a buckle that resembled a deer skull. But what unnerved Ash most of all wasn’t his anachronistic choice of fashion. But rather it was his face and skin, or lack of it. His head resembled a gray, demonic skull, his eyes glowing with a blue fire in the empty sockets. On the sides of his head were a pair of curling horns that looped downwards. The skin visible on his arms and his head, were the same color as his armor, making it impossible to tell where the armor ended and his body began.

He was just standing there, menacingly.

Then, moved on to the beer section.

That isn’t normal… Ash just stood there trembling, as the demonic man figure was now going throughout the store. Taking his swell time with his selection. Ash moved behind the counter with as much stealth as she could. But, coupled beside her fear, was a dash of confusion. “Is he reading the nutrition facts?” He was… He was seriously looking at the nutrition facts and ingredients. He then moved on, now going to the ice cream. All the urban legends she heard, all the horror movies she watched to steel herself. This was the real deal. Still trembling, but trying to hide it, she couldn’t even parse what was with her in the store. “No no! It’s just some cosplay!” She told shouted internally to herself, “But goddamn, it’s really good! I need to call my cosplay friends about it!”

These were the only thoughts she had, before her thought process was cut off by the sound of a 6 pack of diet beer and a small tub of ice cream were placed down in front of her. It was enough for her to let out a high pitched yelp, contrasting with her normally deep voice; deep for a girl that is. The skeletal visage of the man stood over her. Not only was he incredibly tall, but was lanky as well. Giving him a towering, thin physique. Then, reaching into his robe, he pulled out a wallet that bore the same symbol as his belt buckle. Then, a few dollars were placed down in front of Ash. “Keep the change.” He said in an incredibly mellow voice, not at all matching his appearance. Smooth, calm, and not threatening in the slightest.

“Uh…” Ash responded, then gave another utterance. “Eh?!”

“Something amiss? I didn’t take too long did I?” He asked, the fire in his eyes widened to a pair of large circles, as if to indicate surprise. He even placed a boney hand in front of his mouth to hide his ever present grimace. He looked at the clock… There was still time left. He couldn’t have been late.

There was a long pause from Ash. But, she spoke up, “Ah! No no no! It’s fine… Uh… I was just startled that’s all… By a new customer so late…” Her improvising skills were being put to the test. “You, uh, new in town?”

“Yes.” He nodded, “I moved in just a few days ago. Nice little place just up the road, you could walk to it in a few minutes.” Rubbing his bald head, he nodded. “Er… We’re still adjusting to things, me and my roommates. Haven’t even set everything up from the old place.” Looking down at the beer, he gasped quietly, “Oh right, you’ll want to see my ID.”

She wasn’t planning to, no, she kind of assumed that the skull faced man was well over 21. But it was still company policy, no matter how old the person looked. She waited as he took out his ID, which to her surprise, he actually had.

“There we go!” Lo and behold, a normal ID card with his visage plastered there on the side. Gram Bloodfeast. Warlock. His birthdate was just a bunch of question marks… Which did defeat the purpose of him showing it in the first place. Putting it back in his wallet, he waited for Ash to scan his stuff. “Heh, it took a long time to get it. As you can imaging.”

“Right, right.” Ash slowly nodded, still masking her fear. A warlock? A genuine, fantasy warlock? Was that an actual occupation or some weird LARP thing that she had just heard of? As she scanned his stuff, she gave a friendly thumbs up and a nervous smile. “H-have a goodnight, Mr. Bloodfeast. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thank you, Ash.” He said, his eyes on her name badge. “…And please, you can call me Gram. Besides, it’s pronounced Blued-fee-ast. I’m feeling at home here.” The warlock picked his stuff up, and with a flourish of his robes, left for the outside.

Thus, Ash was left there, a few minutes to come to her senses, clean up, and clock out. But her mind was still focusing on the same question “A warlock… That outfit, it couldn’t have been fake… No way someone would just walk around in an outfit that ridiculous.” Standing up, she headed back to where she was earlier. If only she wasn’t such a weightless scardycat. She couldn’t even stomach horror movies and video games. Now this… “No… He was just a weirdo dressed weird.” She told herself, her trembling hand picked up the box of candies. Then, the door opened once more, startling her yet again.

There stood Gram once more, giving a thumbs up, “Also wanted to say, good choice on the music… ABBA? Voulez-Vous?” Then left with a friendly wave.

“…And yet, he’s so friendly…” Ash said, still staring at the door. Her fear subsided once more.

The walk home.

There was a time when he lead armies of the undead. Legions of skeletons. Rows and rows of armored zombies. Lanes of metal and flesh, forming phalanxes to lead a strike against his enemies.

There was a time when the mere utterance of his name would send a room into silence and terror. Plans and full campaigns lead to take him out. All the bounties placed on him could be used for wallpaper.

There was a time when even the greatest of warriors, noblest of knights, and most powerful of spellcasters wouldn’t dare go against his fierce might. A snap of his fingers. A flick of the wrist. There was no effort he needed to cause mayhem and destruction.

He was a terrifying lord of magic and dominion. Sitting upon a throne in a freezing cold castle of perpetual snowfall, looming over the peaceful cities that he controlled through fear.

Now, he walked through a cold hailing night with a six pack of beer and ice cream, headed through his comfy sprawl of suburbia, Summertime Hills. Quiet, mundane, but most of all cozy. The perfect place for someone to settle down in. It wasn’t a castle, but he was going to enjoy coming back to his small 2 floor suburban home.

There was a time when he was the most feared warlock in all of the land. But now, he was retired.