The vinyl seats groaned as we sat down. A laminated menu lay waiting for us — though I could've sworn the table was empty a moment ago. I opened it.
Blank. Every page.
Rule three, I reminded myself. Don't complain. Eat what they serve.
The waitress returned a minute later. She didn't carry the plates — they were simply there when she blinked. My stomach turned.
Before me sat a plate of medium-rare steak — perfect sear, fine cut, a sprinkle of salt still glistening. Theo got a steaming bowl of ramen, noodles coiling like pale worms in murky broth. And Mira…
Mira's dish was a child's arm, neatly arranged atop a silver platter. The flesh browned, the bone polished clean at the end. The smell was wrongly sweet.
"Bon appétit," Ellie said, tilting her head again, her smile unwavering.
Theo dug in without hesitation. "Not bad today," he said between slurps.
Mira's expression darkened as her face turned pale. She cut into her meal, the sound of knife through flesh too casual, too ordinary.
I tried to focus on my steak — it was tender, warm — but when I swallowed, I swore I felt the muscle twitch.
The diner door chimed. Ding.
Three figures walked in. Not people.
The first was a woman with porcelain skin cracked like dry clay, her dress soaked with something dark. The second — a headless man carrying his own skull like a lantern, faint light leaking from the eyes. The third — a tall silhouette wrapped in dripping black plastic, the smell of rot following close.
They sat two booths away. The waitress greeted them just the same.
"Three for booth eight?" she asked brightly. "Of course."
Their meals appeared almost instantly. One began to eat without utensils — pressing a twitching, still-living heart to what used to be her mouth. The sound — wet, rhythmic — filled the diner. I gripped my fork harder.
The jukebox clicked. A soft hum began, some distorted 1950s love song dragging under static. Theo started humming along, casual, almost cheerful. Mira joined in softly.
I hesitated — then forced myself to hum too, my voice shaking slightly.
When the song ended, the lights flickered once — then steadied.
Our plates were gone. Replaced.
Theo had gotten a thick Slice of pizza with too much cheese and pineapple pieces on it. Mira had gotten a few slices of watermelon. Her face brightened up from her prior meal.
My second meal was… soup? Thick, dark, bubbling faintly. Something beneath the surface moved — a pulse, a twitch, a small, slick eye breaking through for a second before sinking again.
'Seriously? Cant I just have a decent meal like them?' I hesitated to even pick up the spoon
"Finish it," Mira said without looking up.
I worked on it, one disgusting spoon after the other. It was warm going down. Disgustingly so. I lost count of how many times I felt vomit come up into my mouth only for me to swallow it back down.
I lifted the spoon. The first sip burned going down — not from heat, but from movement. Something wriggled. My stomach turned as bile rose in my throat, but I kept swallowing, again and again, until the bowl was empty and my reflection trembled on its glossy surface.
Then the diner door chimed again. Ding.
At first, I didn't look. Then I did — and the world narrowed. My spoon clattered to the table.
A man stood there.
Or something wearing a man.
Old farmer's clothes. Faded flannel, mud-caked boots. Mid-forties, gray hair receding, eyes like polished amber — sharp, predatory.
Charles.
Every drop of blood drained from my face.
"How—" The word died before I could form it.
Ellie's voice rang out. "One for booth three?"
"Yes, please," he said — in that familiar, lilting tone.
He passed his assigned booth, walking straight toward ours. That smile — the same one from my nightmares — spread slowly across his face, stretching skin until it almost split.
"Partner!" he boomed, too cheerful, too loud. "Been a while, hasn't it?"
He slid into the seat beside me, close enough that I could smell the damp rot clinging to his clothes. His hand twitched on the table, fingers trembling with hunger or excitement — I couldn't tell which.
The rules, I thought. Don't interact. Don't respond.
But fear spoke first.
"Y-you— get aw—"
My throat locked. Every breath tasted like iron.
Mira raised her hand — calm, deliberate. "Excuse me, Ellie—"
The waitress was suddenly there, standing between us without a single step taken. Her face had lost its smile.
"Please adhere to our house rules and refrain from disturbing fellow customers," she said, voice colder than before.
Charles didn't move. His grin didn't falter. But a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
"My sincere apologies…"
He stood. "It won't happen again."
"Indeed," Ellie replied. "It won't."
She rested a pale hand on his shoulder, and for a moment, her fingers sank slightly into his flesh — like pressing into dough.
He flinched, then turned and walked to his booth.
It took minutes — long, dragging minutes — for my pulse to slow.
"You okay, Investigator Weaver?" Mira asked quietly.
Theo leaned forward. "Old friend of yours?"
"I'll… explain once we're out of here."
My voice sounded like someone else's becauseof how anxious i was.
'I just want to go home,' I thought. 'And cry myself into sleep..'
Our next dishes appeared, unannounced.
Theo's was a bowl of red soup — borscht, the kind he used to get during lunch breaks. "Neat," he said, smiling faintly.
Mira's plate, however, was piled high with tongues — small, pale ones that whispered faintly in a dozen different voices. Her expression hardened.
My plate… an omelet.
Soft, golden — trembling. When I cut into it, a clear liquid oozed out, smelling faintly of blood and something sweetly rotten.
Across the diner, another patron — human-shaped, half-melted — stood abruptly and vomited black sludge across the floor. The sound was thick, almost wetly human.
Ellie appeared beside him, her smile immaculate. "Please remember rule nine," she said brightly. "First and last warning."
The sludge twitched. Moved. Then stilled.
And all around us, the other diners — the dead, the wrong, the hungry — kept eating.
20 minutes passed, and once we have finished our meals, they were replaced by new ones.
Mira had gotten lucky this time-- getting a bunch of French fries with all kinds of rainbow sauces as sides. Theo however... a bat. Dead but uncooked. His face turned pale, his jaw tightened and his hands trembled. but he held firm, and ate regardless. He had to.
And finally-- my meal: a apple as white as snow.
'This one atleast looks tasty' I sighed before taking my first bite.
'...!'
It tasted better than any apple I had ever tried. Juicy, sweet, soft.
I felt a sudden burst of energy flow through my entire body as I swallowed the first bite. I quickly followed with another bite and felt my chest lighten. 3 bites in and any and all weariness and exhaustion i had was gone. I quickly finished the apple and felt like my body was lighter by the time I was done.
It took my teammates a bit longer to finish their meals, especially Theo struggled. Another 30 minutes later and our plates were empty.
The light above us flickered.
'Finally..!'
"Thats our cue..." Theo muttered completely spent.
Mira raised her arm again "Excuse me, could we get the check please?"
I blinked and the waitress already stood at our booth again.
'Does she like... teleport?'
She placed a small paper bill on the table.
"Would you perhaps like any desserts?"
"Maybe next time" Theo said quickly.
Ellie dissappeared and appeared behind the counter again after a blink. Mari placed the money on the table and we got up. Neither of us spoke a word. Given their facial expressions this anomaly isn't usually this bad. My heart pounded so hard it felt audible. As we stepped forward, I could feel Charles's eyes drilling into my back.
'God I hope that bastard gets stuck in another maze.'
"Ah, please hold on!" Ellie's voice called suddenly.
We froze. She approached, brushing past Mira and Theo — straight to me.
"Have we… met before?" she asked, head tilting, voice oddly soft.
My throat dried. "I don't think so. It's my first time here."
"No," she said quietly. "I meant somewhere else."
Her empty eyes held mine for too long.
"I think i'd remember. Maybe you confused me for someone else?"
Finally, she nodded. "Right… well. Come by again sometime."
Her smile returned — wide and innocent "We'll be waiting."
We stepped outside.
Cold rain kissed my skin — real, clean, living. I breathed it in like salvation.
"Finally…" I whispered. "We made it out."