Who's Afraid of the Dark?

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Sophie set down her large cup of ale after only taking a few sips. The Irish liked their beer stronger than they kept it in London, and Sophie was far from used to it. She would play along, though, and take occasional sips just to appease the locals. They were outsiders in the crowded pub, but the patrons had made them feel welcome, and she wasn’t going to do anything to make that stop.

The pub was crowded - far more crowded than any of the ones in London, and with each new mug of beer that was placed on the table, it became even more obvious that the Irish loved to drink.

A group of five, large burly men sat around the table, with the out of place teenagers across from them. Each person had a few playing cards in their hands, while others will scattered around the wooden surface. They had been playing so long and drinking so much that the game was only halfway coherent.

Sophie, being among the only sober ones in the group, realized this but played along anyway. The drunk men made winning easy and she was able to change the rules a few times without anyone noticing – anyone aside from Harry, that is.

Every time she made a claim about the game that wasn’t true, the curly haired boy would eye her from across the table, sending a chill up her spine. He could out her at any moment, but he hadn’t and she was thankful for that. It still wasn’t going to make Anise’s attempts at setting them up any easier, though.

Sophie didn’t care how many times Anise insisted that Harry was a good guy. She saw past the bright smile and green eyes to the heartbreaker that was underneath. He was like a fallen angel with two devils on his shoulders. He was beautiful and nothing good come of it.

Three nearly empty pitchers of beer took the place of a normal centerpiece, and the liquid which had been sloppily poured by the men had made everything sticky, from the table, to the cards, to the tips of their fingers, but no one seemed to care.

“You beat me arse in cards one more time and you won’t live to regret it.” The bearded man let out a long laugh as he spoke, signaling to the group that he was only kidding.

One of the men threw his cards against the table, while Louis held up all four aces. It seemed as though everyone else had given up as well, and the cards in their hands were soon replaced with more mugs of beer.

With the cards tossed to the side, the men began chatting to the teens. Sophie kept her attention focused on one of the bigger ones, who was leaning so far back in his chair that she worried he might fall.

“How long ya kids here fer?” the man asked, pushing the front legs of his chair back to the ground.

“We just arrived this morning.” Zayn placed down his cup of the strong ale as he spoke. “We don’t head back to London until next week.”

The largest man in the group let out a long laugh. It was so wild, it caused Sophie to giggle. “Ya London folk ain’t got a prayer ‘round here. We can drink circles ‘round ya.”

Luckily for the group, they hadn’t gone to Ireland with the intention of spending their nights drinking because the man was right. It was only 10PM and Sophie was already beat. She was ready to head back to the inn and get some rest, so she could be awake for sight-seeing in the morning, the thing she was really looking forward to.

Anise had promised they would check out some cottages on the outskirts of one of the local towns, and Sophie really hoped she wouldn’t get too drunk and back out. Anise never cooperated when she had a hangover.

“We’re just doing some sight-seeing, actually,” Liam said, wrapping his arm around Anise’s waist. The beautiful girl sat at the edge of Liam’s knee and Sophie wondered how long she’d been there. Last Sophie had noticed, Anise was in the seat next to her. If she would’ve noticed Anise moving, she would’ve stopped her.

After their years of friendship, Sophie knew how frisky Anise got when she was drinking. It was the other reason she had agreed to take the trip to Ireland – to watch out for Anise. There was no telling what the girl would do when Sophie didn’t have her eye on her.

One of the thinner, quieter men spoke up. “Ya should head out ta the capital. Lots goin’ on there ta see.”

Zayn nodded his head. “We’re planning on heading out there midway through the week. Maybe make a day of it.”

“Ya could spend several days in Dublin and not see it all,” the thin man said, shooting the group a smile. He was the least drunk and most friendly of the group. Sophie enjoyed the other men’s company, but they weren’t quite as nice as thin one.

“Ya know where they should go?” the burliest man said, as he slammed his hands against the table. “Leap Castle.”

The other three men nodded, with large grins on their faces, while the thinnest one shook his head wildly.

“Ah, come on, Pat.” The burly one slapped the thinner one on the back. “These kids look like they could take it.”

Pulling his mug to his lips, Zayn took a small drink before speaking. “What’s Leap Castle?”

“The most haunted place in all the world, I’d say,” the man said, “but ya wouldn’t want ta hear ‘bout that, now would ya?”

The burly man had his eyebrow raised, clearly inviting them to push him further. Sophie wasn’t going to do it though, and she hoped the rest of the group wouldn’t either.

“Sophie loves old history so I’m sure she’d love to hear about it.” Anise smiled at her from on top of Liam’s knee. “Wouldn’t you, Soph?”

Everyone’s eyes were on Sophie, especially the ones of the large Irish men. The next few moments could either be awkward or continuously pleasant based solely on the next decision she made.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded her head. “I’d love to hear about it.”

The burly man smiled at her, as he leaned back in his chair again.

“It’s the most haunted place in all the world, they say.”

“Ya ain’t talking ‘bout ole Leap, are ya?” From the bar, a thin ginger man shouted at them, joining in on their conversation. “Ya only go ta Leap if you’re looking for trouble.”

One of the other men spoke, with beer still in his mouth. “These kids ain’t got the guts for Leap. Only true Irishmen do.”

“I was born and raised in Mullingar,” Niall said, eyeing them men. “I was raised on tales of Leap.”

“But ya left, boy,” one of the men said, egging him on. “And your guts left wit ya. Ya lot couldn’t last a night in Leap.”

Niall, who had clearly let the lager mess with his head, was not willing to let the subject go. Taking a large sip of his beer, almost in a show of confidence, he spoke again. “I bet ya anythin’ that we could. An Irishman’s bet.”

The group of men let out a large communal laugh, eyeing each other back and forth. “So ya have bet it, so it shall be.”

Reaching across the table, the two men shook hands. “Tomorrow night, the nine of ya have ta spend all night in Leap. If ya manage ta do it, you’re as good as locals. If ya can’t, ya have ta pick up our tab for the rest of ya time here.”

With a smile on his lips, Niall shook the man’s hand once more. “You’re on.”