Dinner Guest

Laughter rang out from the woman with red hair, mixing with the spring bird calls and drawing looks from strangers passing by. The Man was smiling too, staring at his partner as they walked, trapped inside his out mind. He wouldn’t show it, but he was panicking to try and find other things to make her laugh, thinking that this moment would last forever if he could. She reached out her hand as her laughter quieted down, and they continued down the street hand in hand.

They walked past buildings that had been operating for almost a hundred years, and walked under dull street lights that fought off the encroaching darkness. They passed display windows filled with expensive clothes and open doors which emitted either the sickly smell of alcohol or the warming smell of coffee. The couple had just left their restaurant, bellies full, and they were content to ignore the temptations of the historic boulevard. At least, they were until a new smell hit their senses. The Man noticed it first. It was the smell of spices and incense, but it mixed with iron and formaldehyde. Despite his focus on continuing her laughter, he was pulled out of his trance by the upcoming smells.

He looked towards the source and saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was red brick building, and one of the few without a window display. The front wall had windows, but they were covered from the inside. The door was open, and he assumed that was the source for the smells. He tried to peek inside, but it was too dark and there seemed to be mist rising from the floor.

“The Witches Closet?” the woman said, looking up at the sign. “I didn’t know there were any witch stores around here.”

The man tugged at his dates hang, encouraging her to move on. “I didn’t either. It's kind of creepy, can we keep going? It’s late anyways.”

The Woman, eyes locked on the store, finally took a step to follow her date. “Look, there's an open bar ahead!”

As they walked towards the bar across the street, the smell of stale cigarette smoke caught up to them from behind. This new smell made both of them pause, and the Man turned around. Leaning against the door frame was a woman with her head down and her hand dropping the lit cig to her side. She could have been tall if she stood up straight, but she barely reached above the Man’s head. She exhaled, and conjured a cloud of smoke that seemed to seek out the couple’s nostrils and invade their senses.

“You ain’t gonna make it to the bar,” the old lady said. Her voice grated against the ears, sounding like she was dragging a wooden plank over asphalt. Her hair covered her face, and nothing seemed to move when she spoke. But when the couple looked around them, nobody else was there. It had to be her.

“Uh. Excuse me?” the Man said, starting to pull out his phone. He was pretty sure it wasn’t even near last call but he’d check their hours to be sure.

“Look behind you.” the strange lady said, pointing back down the street where the couple came from. “You’re being hunted.” This was already a strange encounter, the Man thought, but it could always get weirder. Nonetheless, he looked back to where they came from. He didn’t see anything at first. There was still a cloud of cigarette smoke lingering around his face, assaulting his senses. He let out a small cough and waved his hand while he tilted his head forward and squinted, trying his best to see through the smoke and the darkness, past the street lamps and crowds of drunken revelers.

“Babe, can we just go? I’m sure we’ll make it in time if we hurry,” the Woman pleaded. She wasn’t sure what the old lady was talking about, and frankly she didn’t want to. She just wanted to enjoy the rest of her night with her new beau.

“The bar isn’t closing. Idiots,” croaked the old woman as she took another hit. “How do you not see it?” She gave an annoyed sigh and flicked the lit cigarette as she whispered something incomprehensible under her breath. The cigarette seemed to grow brighter as it flew through the air. The couple watched as it arced across their vision. But right at the apex, where it should have fallen down and followed the laws of physics, it grew even brighter and shot down the street at an absurd speed.

“What the fuck?” the Mann said. His mouth hung open as he watched the tobacco scented beacon fly down the street above the populaces’ heads. “How did you do that?”

“Shut up. Watch,” growled the lady. In stunned silence, the man watched the light bob and weave, twist and turn until it stopped suddenly. It started lowering towards the ground until finally it stopped. It stopped at head height, right in front of a lone person. The cigarette illuminated the stranger's grey hair and gave off a sickly yellow light. When he realized that the light had picked him out of the crowd, his head shot up and he locked eyes with the man frozen in absolute shock. The Stranger had yellow eyes, even more yellow than the light coming from the street lamps and the glowing cigarette. He had a scar across the bridge of his nose and spanned from ear to ear. The Stranger, realizing he was caught, grimaced. But it wasn’t a normal grimace. It was more of a snarl, with his pupils shrinking into cat like slivers of black against the yellow light. His teeth didn’t look normal. They looked like they should be cutting the inside of his mouth, but they weren’t. He had to be at least a hundred feet away from the couple, but the growl they heard cut through the crowd. It was low and gritty, and rumbled so slowly and maliciously that the couple forgot where they were. All they could think of was this stranger standing in the yellow light. But then they blinked. And he was gone.

The Man was unable to accept what he had just seen, but he couldn’t ignore the weight in the bottom of his stomach. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this afraid. But he couldn’t show that. “This is a pretty clever ploy to draw people in, I’ll give you that.”

The old lady scoffed. “Believe me or not, I’m just trying to help.”

“It couldn’t hurt to go inside. I’ve had enough to drink anyways,” the woman said. She wasn’t sure what she just saw. She remembered stories from her childhood about the monsters that haunt the darkness around town, but they were just kid stories. No way were they real.

“Well, I haven’t,” the Man replied. “But I guess we could go in to look around. Do you have drinks inside?” The Woman rolled her eyes and pushed through the cloud of smoke into the store. The Man chuckled and then coughed, trying to cover up the involuntary whimper he let out when he looked out across the darkness.

Finally, past the strangely aggressive smoke cloud, the Woman shuffled farther into the store. The doorway led into a dark hallway, and the Woman’s eyes tried to find any sort of light to lock onto. She pushed aside a curtain of beads, letting them clack back into place behind her. After a hallway of darkness, the array of candles and fluorescent lights and mirrors almost blinded her. The smell of incense and herbs gave her much needed relief from the ever-present stink of tobacco and nicotine. She squinted and rubbed her eyes to adjust to the new stimulus. The smell of cinnamon and allspice and mint was comforting, and she began to relax.

Something moved out of the corner of her vision, and she turned to catch it. On a massive oak shelve was row after row of jars. Her gaze was returned by the unmoving glass eyes of a rat, suspended in a yellow tinted liquid. The Woman covered her mouth the stifle a gasp, and stumbled backwards away from the shelves of nightmares. The rat continued to rotate inside its glass home, stuck inside a dream that never ended. The Woman tried to turn around and leave, but was stopped by her date.

He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and moved his head to make eye contact with her. “Is everything okay?” His eyes moved from her and began to explore their new space. “Oh. Wow,” he said as he finally realized what had startled the woman. “That’s an interesting choice of décor.”

The curtain of beads rattled behind them as the owner shuffled her way into the room. “Thanks. I’ve been working on it for a while now. My taxidermist hasn’t answered my calls in years, so I had to do a lot of the work myself.”

The couple looked at each other. “Maybe we should just head out. I’m sure this all just a big mistake, and anyway, I want another beer,” the Man said. He still wasn’t looking at the owner, but was still trying to grasp the situation he found himself in. He pulled the woman closer and began to guide her back to the door.

“Don’t be stupid. I won’t force you to stay, but it would be your funeral,” rumbled the Old Lady. She shrugged and moved towards a door hidden behind hanging lights and vines from plants growing along the wall. “I have water boiling for tea, and I was just making dinner. You’re welcome to join.”

BANG!!

There was a crash beyond the curtain and down the hallway as flesh slammed into the door. The old woman raised her eyebrows and smirked, knowing she was right all along.

“Welp. I guess the choice is made for us,” the Man said. His partner shrugged and they moved to follow the Old Lady before they lost her in the chaotic show floor. Flesh slammed again and again on the door, encouraging them to move faster. The couple made eye contact one last time before sliding past the hidden door, stepping into a painfully bright room. After their eyes adjusted, they were greeted by the familiar sight of an average kitchen. Warmth radiated from the stove as it heated up a teapot, and the clack of wood on wood rang their ears as the Old Lady got some extra cups from the cabinet. There must have been something in the oven too, thought the Man while he tried to find the source of the sweet cookie smell. It was almost enough to cover up the smell of cigarette smoke that had burned into and yellowed the walls

“I haven’t had guests in a while. You’ll have to forgive the mess” rumbled the Old Lady. She gently set the cups down on the table and started pushing away the piles of newspapers that had found a home there.

The Man nodded and smiled. “It’s no problem. We appreciate the invitation, and letting us hide in here. I’m sure that guy just mistook us for someone else.” The woman grinned without moving the rest of her face and couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands. She felt out of place and wrong. She couldn’t help but imagine that coming inside was worse than whatever could’ve happened outside.

The silence that followed was almost painful. All 3 people sat at the table staring at each other, sizing each other up. The couple looked at each other wishing that they could communicate with thought. The Old Lady looked at them both, imagining their futures, their past, everything about her new guests. She also kept glancing towards the oven. It was taking a long time to preheat, and she was hungry.

Outside, a large and strangely hairy body slammed into the door one last time. Bear thought he was hidden well enough, but somehow that old hag had seen her. He knew he’d have to talk with her about that. He looked around the street, taking a break from breaking down the door. People were staring at him. He heard a man a hundred feet away whisper “yes, he’s trying to break in the store. He doesn’t look armed, but please hurry.”

Bear rolled his yellow eyes. Stupid humans, always begging other people for help. At some point, they’ll need to learn how to solve their own problems. Ignoring the multitude of eyes boring into the back of his head, he took a step back to get a better look at the building. The door looked like a normal wooden door, but that clearly wasn’t the case. He could snap a wooden door like a raw noodle, but there was something reinforcing this one. Probably runes inside, he guessed. The door was surrounded by dull red brick that looked normal, but were probably just as solid as the door. He noticed windows 15 or so feet up. Bear thought he could probably climb up and get in through the window without much issue, but that would draw still more people to watch. He was good, but he wasn’t invisible.

Instead, he chose the three-foot wide alley that separated the shop from its neighbor. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do once he was in the alley, but Bear knew he was running out of choices and running out of time. He gave the remained crowd his best sassy side-eye and slid into the dark alley. He scanned the wall for a point of entry and didn’t find much. There weren’t any easy windows to slide through but there was an A/C unit and some piping that rose to the roof. He sighed and grabbed on. He grumbled something about altruism and favors being bullshit, and started the climb to the roof.

Bear new too much time had passed by the time he made it inside. The crowd outside had inadvertently ruined everything. Nonetheless, he sprinted through door after door and down a staircase filled with the smell of roasting pork and an assortment of spices. After accidentally stumbling into bedrooms and bathrooms, he eventually threw open the door that led to the kitchen. He should be used to situations like these, but what he saw still made his heart sink.

At the table in the center of the room only one of the four chairs were filled. Two were pulled out but empty, like they were pushed backwards in a hurry. One chair was still holding up an old gray hair woman that looked far too tall. She was flipping through pages in a tan, leather-bound book and sipping tea from an old China cup. On the dirty marble counters there was the standard assortment of cooking equipment: a well-stocked spice rack, mixing bowls and whisks, all shapes and sizes of knives. There was even a meatgrinder still plugged in to the wall and some sausage casing left over. Bear smelled the air. There was a lingering smell of iron and something lighter that he was having a hard time deciphering. Sweat? Ammonia? Ah, he realized what it was. Fear. He walked closer to the counter and studied the tools. The cutting board was out, however it seemed to be clean. Actually, almost too clean for just being used. He leaned forward towards the board. He smelled bleach.

He eyed the old lady who still hadn’t moved. Bear could hear the dull clicking of an oven timer and felt the intense heat against his legs as he moved around the room. He stopped by a small door in the wall that he knew hid a chute down to the basement. This was where all the smells were strongest. He ran a finger across the outline of the hatch, and grimaced when he caught a smudge of blood the corner. It was still wet. He heard the chair move out from the table and gentle footsteps as the old lady moved behind him. He whirled around ready to defend himself, but there was no need. She was rinsing out a large glass mason jar in the sink. Without paying Bear any attention, she emptied the clear jar and turned to another jug with the words 2-propyl, 100% on the side. She filled the mason jar halfway and moved to the freezer. Bear watched with horrified attention while she leaned into the freezer with a pair of tongs. She turned around and dropped whatever she grabbed into the jar.

He looked closer. When his eyes finally focused on what was in the jar, he vomited. He was too slow. A human heart bobbed up and down inside the jar. She screwed the lid on as hard as she could and placed it on the window sill.

“Hello Bear,” she rasped in a voice that would embarrass chain smokers everywhere. “Did you come to join me for dinner?”