Do you remember the The Roxy in Regina's Warehouse District? It was where Delberts used to be, lol do you remember Delberts? Yeah my scene was there, Lauderdale’s, Checker’s, Gabbo’s, Shark Tank and even Nicky’s or Guys n’ Dolls. We were lucky - we lived the best memories! Anyway, I will always remember the last night I went to The Roxy, it closed down not long after this.  

That night me and my friends went out bar hopping as per usual Friday night shenanigans - you know the type, put money away for a cab for a safe ride home, bar star all night, find a designated driver, use the cab money for more beer, party all night. Those types of shenanigans. So there we were drinking, dancing, living it up - I danced too back then. Well this night The Roxy had installed new floor fog machines and we all thought it was so cool even if it felt a bit cool to the touch almost clammy, but we still danced in the fog that came up to our knees, bar lights changing the colour of the fog with the beat of the music. And this was the first time I seen him.  

He walked into the bar at midnight took a moment and surveyed the dance floor. I danced with my friends. The next time I seen him he was buying a round of drinks at the bar before getting a pretty gal to dance with him on the floor. He stood out, a bit older than the normal crowd, tall and handsome, dressed like money - not I’m rich tonight money, but Money. He bought drinks, danced with all the girls, bought more drinks and I think he even winked at me once. Remember the fog? While it swirled around our dances that same fog seemed to cling to his legs. Where ever he went the fog just seemed thicker, at the time I chalked it up to my alcohol addled brain.  

The night went on and we all danced, drank, and danced some more. The man walked all over the bar, his cologne lingered and hung in the air after him. During his rounds of dancing and buying rounds he passed by our table and got us a round of drinks too. Again, that fog seemed to cling to him and you know what, the lights almost seemed to avoid him. It was like the fog wasn’t the only thing that clung to him but the darkness as well.  

We were young we were stupid we didn’t care. I looked out at the dance floor and there he was dancing with a young lady I knew had a boyfriend - a rather jealous boyfriend. I watched them dance for a moment when suddenly her boyfriend began walking up behind the man in a not so calm demeanour. I blinked and I swear, the man turned to look at me. In that moment he smiled - his teeth jutting out too jagged, sharpened fangs that froze my heart. I couldn’t move. I felt absolute terror rising up in me but before I could scream a scaled tail came out from behind the man and whipped the boyfriend across the forehead. I saw him stagger in the background before I blinked again and everything was seemingly back to normal. The man winked at me. I looked at the boyfriend and he was staggering as if he tripped over something back to the bar as the man wrapped his arm around the young lady and walked out the door with her.  

I don’t think anyone notice but me, even her boyfriend remained at the bar ordering another drink. He turned to look around and I saw he had a red welt on his forehead that he didn’t seem concerned at all that his girlfriend was gone. He took his drink, sat there and watched the bar - his eyes empty, his face dull. I’m not sure what happened to the girl, I’m sure no one else seen it, maybe you were there, maybe you remember that night?

As many of you know, I lost my brother Josh this year. It threw me for a loop — it was unexpected, and all my hopes and dreams with him died much too soon. Thankfully, I had photography contracts that needed to be fulfilled, and they helped keep me grounded through the grief. You’ll never know how much photography has done for me. At first, I thought about creating a photo series to work through my loss, but that felt too much of me and not enough of him. So instead, in the darkness, I wrote.Josh and I shared a love for the macabre, the spooky, and the mysterious — we would send each other YouTube channels to feed that shared love of the creepy: Nukes Top 5, Slapped Ham, Beyond Creepy, and countless others. In that same spirit, I wrote.I wrote stories that are a little unsettling, a little mysterious — the kind of tales Josh and I both loved. In the end, I wrote five stories. Through them, I found a small kind of healing and a way to express the grief I couldn’t photograph. I’ll be sharing them one at a time this coming week. I hope you enjoy them — and maybe feel a little of Josh in them, too.— Bill