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Another Ordinary Night
It was just another ordinary night at Al's bar. An unlucky fly paced up and down the window, looking for escape. While Al poured in some coffee for the lady and man having loud laughters audiable outside the bar, he saw/sees a dark figure entering the bar. This man was dressed in long manteling black mackintosh and a hat bent far over, covering his appearance. Without saluting he quietly sat down at the far end of the bar, isolated from the rest and and signs Al, the bartender to take his order. ''Give me the strongest what you've got'' he growled with his low and hoarse voice. Right away sir replied Al benevolent, like he always is and gets a bottle of whisky for his mysteriously strange customer. ''So, are you new in this neighbourhood, because I haven't seen you before?'' Sluggishly the man turned his face to Al, just enough to cast a fierce eye on Al, making clear that he didn't appreciate a sociable chat/conversation like this. Al moved away from this anti-social mystique figure and took the bill of the couple as they were mischiviously flirting. The couple gave Al a big smile for his hospitality and left the bar hand in hand looking intimimately to each other. When the door closed with a bang, Al turned around to wash the dirty glasses.

Without turning to his enigmatic customer a strange feeling crawls within him. He didn't find it pleasant being in one room with a chap like this, half expecting to be grabbed and ripped to shreds, but he didn't let himself get scared/calmed himself, because he had served worse. Just as he was about to dry the glasses, he heard the door close with a silent click. He turned around and was able to see the dark man vanishing from sight in the deserted street. He walks back to the place where the man had sat down and his eye caughts a note of hundred pound lying peacefully next to the empty glass of whisky staring at him. I was completely dumbfounded! Could it be a mistake? No, of course not, the man just wanted to set right his unmannerly behaviour. Highly satiated Al looked again to his note of hundred pound. Then he noticed that the customer had spilled some drink on the dark mahogany-coloured bar surface. Al took his piece of cloth and cleaned the spilled drink, as the smile on his face turned into abomination. The spilled liquid didn't turn out to be whisky, but dark-red blood. Frightened Al dropped his rag and looked at the floor, on which drops of blood led to the exit. Panic strikes him through the head as he realized that this man could have been the serial killer, the police have been looking for weeks on end....

Written By Faisal Syed
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HELP PLSSSS
Id' be so grateful if someone took 2 min to correct my story
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so this is what I have so far

A glance of mystique black figure
It was just another ordinary night at Al's bar. While Al poured in some coffee for the lady and man that were having loud laughters audible outside the bar, he saw a dark figure entering the bar. This man was dressed in long manteling black mackintosh and a hat bent far over his head, covering his appearance. Without saluting he quietly sat down at the far end of the bar, isolated from the rest and signs Al, the bartender to take his order. ''Give me the strongest what you've got'' he growled with his low and hoarse voice. Right away sir replied Al benevolent, like he always is and gets a bottle of whisky for his mysteriously strange customer. ''So, are you new in this neighbourhood, because I haven't seen you before?'' Sluggishly the man turned his face to Al, just enough to cast a fierce eye on Al, making clear that he didn't appreciate a sociable chat. Al moved away from this mystique figure and took the bill of the couple as they were mischiviously flirting. The couple gave Al a big smile for his hospitality and left the bar hand in hand looking intimimately to each other. When the door closed with a bang, Al turned around to wash the dirty glasses.

Without turning to his enigmatic customer a strange feeling crawled inside him and burrowed deep within. He didn't find it pleasant being in one room with a chap like this, half expecting to be grabbed and ripped to shreds, but he got himself to senses, because he had served worse. Just as he was about to dry the glasses, he heard the rattle of the door knob. He turned around and was able to see the dark man vanishing from sight in the deserted street as lonesome silence abounded him. He walked back to the place where the man had sat and his eye caught a hundred pound note lying peacefully next to the empty glass of whisky staring at him. My mouth dropped open as I stared back at the note. I was completely dumbfounded! Could it be a mistake? No, of course not, the man just wanted to set right his unmannerly behaviour. Highly satiated Al looked again to his hundred pound note. Then he noticed that the customer had spilled some drink on the dark mahogany-coloured bar surface. Al took his piece of cloth and cleaned the spilled drink, as the smile on his face turned into abomination. The spilled liquid didn't turn out to be whisky, but dark-red blood. Frightened, Al dropped his rag and backed away. Gasped in shock he looked down at the floor, on which drops of blood led to the door. Panic struck him through the head as he realized that this man could have been the serial killer, the police have been looking for weeks on end......

Written By Faisal Syed


Another Ordinary Night


It was just another ordinary night at Al's bar. An unlucky fly paced up and down the window, looking for escape. While Al poured in some coffee for the lady and man laughly loudly having loud laughters audiable outside the bar if they are outside the bar, why is he serving them?, he saw/sees a dark figure entering the bar. This man He was dressed in a long manteling - I don't know this word black mackintosh dark trenchcoat with a hat pulled low over his face. and a hat bent far over, covering his appearance. Without saluting saying a word, he quietly sat down at the far end of the bar, isolated from the rest other patrons, and and signalled for Al, the bartender to take his order.

''Give me the strongest of whatever you've got," he growled with his in a low and hoarse voice.

"Right away, sir," replied Al, in his typical, benevolent manner, like he always is and he got gets a bottle of whisky for his mysterious ly strange customer. "So, are you new in this neighbourhood? I haven't seen you before?'' he asked amiably.

Sluggishly, the man turned his face to Al, just enough to cast his a fierce eye gaze on him, making clear that he didn't appreciate attempts at a friendly chat/conversation like this. Al moved away from this anti-social mystique figure and took the bill of the laughing couple, who were still mischiviously flirting. The couple gave Al a big smile for his hospitality and left the bar hand-in-hand looking intimimately to each other. When the door closed with a bang, Al turned around to wash the dirty glasses.

Without turning to his enigmatic customer, a strange feeling grew crawls within him. He didn't find it pleasant being in one the room alone with a chap like this, and half expecting to be grabbed and ripped to shreds, but he didn't let himself get scared/calmed himself; because he had served worse. Just as he was about to dry the glasses, he heard the door close with a silent click. He turned around and was able to see the dark man vanishing from sight in the deserted street. He walked back to the place where the man had sat down and his eye caughts sight of a hundred-pound note of hundred pound lying peacefully next to the empty glass of whisky staring at him. He was completely dumbfounded! Could it be a mistake? No, of course not, the man just wanted to set right his unmannerly behaviour. Highly satiated pleased, Al looked again to the hundred-pound note.

Then he noticed that the customer had spilled some of his drink on the dark mahogany-coloured bar surface. Al took his piece of cloth and cleaned the spilled drink, but as the smile on his face turned into a look of horror. abomination. The spilled liquid was not didn't turn out to be whisky, but dark-red blood. Frightened Al dropped his rag and looked at the floor, and saw on which drops of blood leading to the exit. Panic stuck him through the head as he realized that this man could have been the serial killer that the police have been looking for weeks on end.

1. You shift tenses from presnt to past to present to past, etc. You much either tell the story entirely in the present, or entirely in the past.

2. When you have dialogue, you must start a new paragraph each time someone speaks.

3. Does a hundre pounds really seem like a likely thing to leave if you've been a bit rude? That seems excessive. Al should be more suprised than he is, and more pleased - he shouldn't just say to himself "Of course he left it because he wasn't very polite.

4. Is there a reason to think that just because someone is bleeding, he is a serial killer? Had Al seen sketches of the suspect on TV? Did he leave behind a bloody knife? If he had someone else's blood on him, does it seem like it would keep dripping after all this time? It sounds like the poor man himself was bleeding.