He dreamt he was running a 1920s-style cafe and bar. Patrons had to dress like they were characters of a Gatsby party if they wanted into the establishment. The employees too dressed to impress--shirts had to be pressed and shoes shined. Each employee received a complimentary fitting for two outfits when they were hired. The cost wasn't deducted from their first paycheck either. This was an investment. The Owner liked investments. All kinds. He preferred good ones of course, but he loved playing with money so much that he had made more than his fair share of bad ones. Placing his employees in the right clothes was a no-brainer.
The Owner had always been a dreamer. Or had the Dreamer always been the Owner?
The dreams had been coming for years; violent and passionate, angry and destructive. As a child, his parents found him under his bed screaming. His dad pulled him out from under there only to see his son perfectly asleep despite the child's howling. He woke the child, and then the Owner began swinging wildly catching his father in the eye. The father then dropped his son to grab his own rapidly swelling eye and the son cracked his head on a wooden dresser.
That poor mother.
A once screaming and now unconscious child, as well as a husband on his knees with the pain in his eye while at the body of his bleeding and broken son.
Two days later after returning from the ER, a black-eyed father and trembling mother had pieced together that the Owner had seen a fleshy skeleton dressed in red robes (like a Catholic Cardinal from the sound of it) "enter him" through his own chest... fully possessing him.
That dream still stuck with the Owner. It haunted his thoughts at church, his prayer at home. He never felt the demon leave even after his headache from the dresser left a month later.
The dream lingered; the demon remained.
His anger was like the blue of a fire. Unwavering. Wrath had been with him since the possession, for years and years through middle school spelling bees, freshmen football, Brain Bowls, and later varsity basketball. He was the meanest player on the court. He was short with his friends and insubordinate to his teachers though they all found him to be the kid in class with the most potential for greatness.
Just not goodness...
