The Raven Point Bar was as quiet as it always was when night fell. It had stood peacefully in the town for years, never doing any harm, yet the townspeople feared it more than anything. The bar to them was a curse, a constant reminder of the horrors that it had once contained; the raging fire that had broken out due to the drunken madness of a gang of sick men. It reeked of sin...but that was why he had chosen it as the location of their first meeting.<br/><br/>He sat in the darkness of the basement which lay concealed by a trap door behind the main bar. He felt comfortable in the darkness that surrounded him. The only light thing that lit up the room was the dull glow of a few light bulbs which hung from the ceiling. He smirked as he pulled out an old charred bottle of whisky; a treasure that seemed to survive the wild inferno which had ravaged the building.<br/><br/>"Perfect" He spoke as he poured a small amount into a single glass and took a small sip, "It is an absolutely perfect night to have company...wouldn't you say?".<br/><br/>