Project Gateway

Chapter 8: A Ghost That Won't Return (Part 2)

The guy’s buddies exchanged looks, some shifting uncomfortably. They could tell. Something in the air had changed.

But the southern guy? He was too dumb to read the room. Instead, he scoffed and leaned back in his chair, grinning up at the man.

SOUTHERN GUY
(mocking)
“Buddy, I dunno who you think you are, but you’re about five seconds from regretting’—”

He never finished the sentence.

Because in the blink of an eye, the man’s fist crashed into his jaw with the force of a hammer. The guy’s head snapped sideways, and he went sprawling off the chair, hitting the ground hard.

The entire bar froze. Conversations stopped. Every pair of eyes locked onto the scene.

The guy groaned on the floor, trying to push himself up, but before he could, the man crouched down beside him. His voice was low and deadly calm—meant only for him to hear.

MAN
“You touch her again, and I put you in the ground.”

The southern guy swallowed hard, the fight drained from him. His hands trembled slightly as he nodded, eyes wide with something close to fear.

The man straightened, eyes sweeping the guy’s friends, daring them to make a move. None of them did. One of them even looked away, suddenly very interested in his beer.

Then, without another word, the man turned to the waitress. She was staring at him, arms crossed, expression unreadable. A long moment passed before she exhaled, shaking her head slightly.

WAITRESS
“…Thanks.”

He just gave her a nod before tossing a few bills on the table and heading for the exit. He didn’t need to stay and explain himself. Didn’t need the cops showing up, either.

As he stepped outside, the cold night air hit him. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.

The past had come knocking again. And no matter how much he tried to outrun it…

…It always found him.

---

FADE TO BLACK.

A Ghost That Won’t Return (Part 3)

November 11, 2029
EXT. HOOTERS PARKING LOT – NIGHT

The cold night air hit him as he stepped outside, hands in his jacket pockets. The neon lights from the bar buzzed softly behind him, casting a faint orange glow onto the pavement. He was about to head toward his truck when he heard the door swing open behind him.

WAITRESS
(calling out)
“Hey, hold up.”

He turned, and there she was—the blonde, the one with the body built like a damn warrior. She stood there with her arms crossed, watching him with those sharp green eyes, her ponytail swaying slightly in the breeze.

MAN
(raising an eyebrow)
“Figured you were done with me after that.”

She smirked, stepping closer, arms still crossed but her posture a little more relaxed now.

WAITRESS
“I never said that.”

He glanced back at the bar, where through the windows, he could see the guy he’d knocked down being helped up by his friends. None of them looked eager to come outside.

MAN
“Don’t suppose that idiot’s gonna press charges?”

WAITRESS
(shrugging)
“Nah. Guys like that don’t call the cops. Too embarrassed.”

He huffed a short laugh. She took another step forward, her gaze flicking over him like she was sizing him up. Up close, she was even more stunning—soft features that contrasted with her powerful frame, smooth skin that caught the glow of the streetlights just right.

WAITRESS
“…So, you always go around knocking guys out for women you don’t know?”

MAN
(smirking slightly)
“Only when they deserve it.”

She laughed, a low, rich sound. Then she looked him up and down again, this time slower.

WAITRESS
“Well… I guess I owe you a real thank-you.”

There was something in her tone now—something suggestive. A challenge. Her lips curled into a smirk as she shifted her weight to one hip, her toned legs flexing just slightly beneath her shorts. She wasn’t just flirting. She was testing him.

MAN
(chuckling, tilting his head)
“That so?”

WAITRESS
(grinning)
“Yeah. And I happen to know a little place where we can talk… properly.”

He didn’t need her to explain. He just smiled slightly, taking a step toward her.

MAN
“…Lead the way.”

---

November 11, 2029
INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

The door clicked shut behind them, locking out the world. The motel room was dimly lit, just a single bedside lamp casting a soft yellow glow over the worn-out furniture. Neither of them wasted time.

She was on him in seconds, her hands gripping his jacket, pulling him close. He met her halfway, his mouth crashing into hers, rough and hungry. She was just as aggressive, just as strong as she looked—her toned arms wrapping around his neck, her body pressing firm against his. He could feel the heat of her skin, the power in her muscles as she moved against him.

They barely made it to the bed before clothes started coming off.

---

INT. MOTEL ROOM – LATE NIGHT

The room was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the heater. The man lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his breathing slow and steady. Beside him, the blonde lay on her stomach, her golden hair spilling over the pillows, her toned back exposed under the dim light.

She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow, watching him with those sharp green eyes.

WAITRESS
(smirking, voice teasing)
“Well, you definitely know how to say thank you.”

He chuckled, glancing at her.

MAN
“I aim to please.”

She rolled onto her side, tracing a finger along his chest.

WAITRESS
“So, mystery man… got a name?”

He thought about that for a moment, then smirked slightly.

MAN
“…Just passing through.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

WAITRESS
“Mysterious. I like it.”

He turned onto his side, watching her, memorizing the way the lamplight traced over her body—the strong curves, the battle-ready form of someone who didn’t just exist in the world, but fought in it.

She was something else.

And for tonight… she was his.

---

FADE TO BLACK.