The Ghost Fear

It was night, darkness and raining heavily with a little lightening, like the one you see in the Eastern Asia, but none of these bothered Mr. Wellington, as he matched majestically on the tarred road that night in the rain. A man in his late 40s with a fine beard placed underneath his jaw, and a perfect pointed nose, like that of Abraham Lincoln. "He's been a handsome man, right from his cradle" his mother would say whenever she looked at the enlarged picture of Mr. Wellington hung on the wall in her derelict apartment, ten blocks from where Wellington himself was living.
"He is a fine bloke, every woman's man and every man's woman" his friend Jack would say in one of his puerile jokes.
The street was boisterous, every living creature was rushing to its safe haven because of the heavy rain. The women on the street were crying out to their children to grasp their hands while they rushed home, the wind smashing the unbolted windows with full gravity, until you'd stay there, you'll notice a hand of a creature bolting the windows to its tight spot.
The drivers on the street were all driving as if the Mayan calendar had been proved right of the world ending tomorrow, while some of the cars had no headlights, but were in great advantage with the incessant lightening that flashed light on the road as if camera men were posted on the street to perform a flashing contest with their cameras.
While some souls were rushing home to avoid the rain, Mr. Wellington was doing the vice versa rushing to the tavern to drink, it's incontrovertible that Wellington drinks a lot. " I'm off to Mr. Wollen's Inn", said he earlier to his apprentice before darting out from his workshop, and unequivocally told him not to tell his wife his whereabouts, if she comes asking.
Still on the road to the Inn, his coat made of wool had been soaked by the heavy down pour, his heavy shoes also couldn't help with his pace, all the old wretched shoes could offer was to impede his friction. Wollen's Inn wasn't that far off, he premeditated to be there, so giving up wasn't an option for him, he waddled on forward.
At the Inn, his friends Jack, Todd and Mike had been there few hours ago, drinking their brains out, making one joke to another, tapping the buttocks of almost every lady that came in for liquor. The person known for that act is Mike, the youngest of them, in his middle 30s, sacked from many jobs, probably because of his compulsive drinking at duty in one of the Sheriff's court not far from the Inn, a feckless creature that Mike of a bloke.

"My wife dare not refuse me sex when I want, I married her, made out change for her dowry, she should be sonbmissive to me, said Todd with an impoverished accent, frowning his face as though he's in the rest room.
"Yeah, enough of the obstinacy from the ladies, they needn't refuse us sex" retorts Jack looking at Todd with the anticipation to get a nod of affirmation with the glass of liquor in his hand.
"I'm not married yet, but if it happens that the urge for sex comes, I will rape the ladies" said Mike standing up as if he'd won a wrestling and beseeching an ovation from the people in the Inn.
"Yeah!!! Rape is the best option for some obstinate ladies" cried one big gluttonous fellow from the other bench in corroboration with Mike's statement. People laughed as he sat down, and Jack and Todd laughed once more together as the merriment was oozing the atmosphere in the Wollen's Inn. The rain was still unceasing, it was raining heavily outside.
As the the three friends were busy rattling up in deep spirit with glass of liquor in their hands, they have spent loads of fortune at Wollen's Inn.
The Inn's door cracked open, a figure was on the door, a man he was, he looked like one of those Christian missionaries weary and tired of preaching, but this figure in particular was different a bit. All eyes in the Inn were all pointed at the unknown figure, he remained stagnant there at the door, shivering in all joints, his coat was dripping water on the floor, he made no speech.
The Innkeeper advanced towards him, but was quite a bit to approach the intruder, for fear of being hacked to death. The figure moved stealthily and everyone there was afraid, he removed his coat and hanged it on the nail behind the door. Interaction ceased, everyone was intrigued to know who the figure was, because night has won the day.
Silence overcame the Inn, the clanging of glasses of liquor were heard no more, everyone was trembling in every limb, fear gripped all the souls in there, including Todd, Mike and Jack.

The man knowing that his drama was enough to win him an Oscar award removed his hat and behold it was Mr. Wellington. With the knowledge of that, the people that knew him were disillusioned, some tried to attack him for inflicting fear on them for so long, one of them Mr. O'Reilly rushed to attack Wellington with a bottle of liquor, calling him a fool. "Are ye done playin James Bond? You fool" said Mr. O'Reilly fuming as he spoke, the innkeeper intercepted and calmed the aggrieved fellow down.

Todd stood up to defend his friend, dragging him to sit with them on the bench, Wellington sat down with his heart pacing so fast due to the recent threat from O'Reilly. He ordered for a liquor to be brought to him.
Peace was restored and everyone resumed their previous routine of wining and chatting. The four friend perfectly seated on the bench facing themselves two by two, Todd, Mike and Jack still pouring liquor on their glasses.

When the rain ceased around 11:45 p.m, people drunk as they were wailed to the innkeeper to come and collect his money, some were heard saying "Keep the change, man! your liquor is the best in town"
Some would pay money and forget to collect their balance, leaving the innkeeper advantaged, he only need to go back and put the coins in his drawer and proceed to collect his money in the next row.

One by one, the people marched on to leave the Inn, each glaring at Wellington as if to warn him not to repeat his drama again, but they had nothing to say but to move onwards to their homes stinking in every part of their body.

As the innkeeper advanced to the bench where the four friends were seated, Todd, Mike and Jack had slept off. Mr. Wellington paid off his money and joined his friends in their journey. He was happy for the ghost fear he caused them. Actually, Mr Wellington was dead 20 minutes before coming to the inn.