Dead End Diner: Book one

by Bea Biddle

  It was her turn to watch him now. She could feel the ghostly teenager even though she wasn't touching him at all, a watery presence next to her, making the hairs on her arms stand on end and goosebumps crawl up her skin when she was near enough. Karen straightened and before she could stop herself, cleared her throat and blurted out, "Hey, can I ask you something?" Zac nodded. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. But I can't stop wondering, how is it? Being a Ghost and all?" As soon as she had spoken the words, she heard how dumb they sounded, she wouldn't be surprised if he rolled his eyes at her and didn't bother answering.

  But his brows knotted together in deep thought as he scratched his chin and shrugged. "I suppose it's not that different than being alive really, except I'm see-through most of the time." He visibly caught himself, and sighed, shaking his head. "No," he added softly, "I guess it's only like that now, it certainly wasn't in the beginning. When I first came to, after I had died, I was so lost and panicky. I didn't know what was going on, I couldn't touch anything, I kept stumbling through walls, and no one could see me or hear me. It was the scariest thing I had ever felt. I don't know how long I spent wandering the same familiar streets, going in and out of consciousness, the world turning around me at a speed I didn't understand. Night and day blended into one. And it was only sometimes that I could even see my own hands." He held them up, turned them around and flexed his fingers. "People didn't stop to help me, I was screaming in their faces and they didn't even know it. I wasn't myself."

  “That sounds awful,” Karen breathed.

  “It was, but then Witches found me. They could actually see me, I was so relieved to find someone who could. They managed to calm me down long enough to explain things to me. By then I had sort of figured that I was dead, but it was nice to have it confirmed. And from then on I really had to learn how to focus my mind before I could appear visible to you guys." He pushed the tray in front of him an inch. "And do that. It's so nice to be able to touch things, I don't think I ever appreciated touching things before," he said with a laugh.

  "Busy, are we?" Sylvester asked. He was sauntering by when he saw them both lounging on the counter.

  "Sir, yes sir," Karen replied, saluting him sarcastically before dropping her hand with a grin. "A five-minute break can't hurt."

  Sylvester eyed the diner, saw what Karen had assessed earlier, nothing much to do, and shrugged. "Don't make a habit of it. Alyssa would put me over her knee and spank me, and I just don't have the energy anymore to pretend I don't like it.” Winking slyly at Zac, he sipped his glass and strolled away.

  Zac coughed awkwardly and if a Ghost could blush, he would be doing it. "Touching things and- and- and being touched, and anything," he corrected himself in a mumble, watching the lean Vamp's backside as he disappeared into the kitchen.

  Karen couldn't help laughing at the poor boy. Dead or alive, it appeared hormones were particularly active either way. "How old were you when you died?" she asked changing the subject.

  "Sweet sixteen," he stated proudly, "I've been told I've been a Ghost at least two hundred years. But being a ghost is sort of like going in and out of a coma, I don't really know sometimes. I rest for a couple of hours and when I return, I've been gone a week. It's a strange thing. I can control how long I am here but have no control over how long I am gone."

  "Where do you go, you know, when you're gone?"

  Zac shook his head. "I don't know, I'm just gone. I'm resting. I guess I'm here, there and everywhere, really. It's like that with all Ghosts, we can hang around forever but have no control over when in that period of forever." He laughed a sad laugh. "We can't really cross over, you know, to the other side, yet," he added.

  "There is an other side?" Karen asked, bolting upright as if she had been kicked. This was the first she had heard any of the dead talk of an other side and her curiosity flared up. "You mean like a heaven?"

  Zac bit the inside of his cheek and hummed as he tried finding the right words. "I don't know what it is," he confessed and shook his head at her, "But there's something pulling at us. It's like a whisper in your ear of a long-standing promise. Always in the back of our minds, there's something, we know there is something for us."

  "So why don't you..." she hesitated, trying to find a better way to word it. She gave up. "Why don't you cross over then?"

  "I can't," Zac straightened up and grinned at her, "We're all here because there's something we still need to do, something unfinished that we have to take care of. I'm sure you've heard that one before." Karen nodded disappointedly. "Ghosts also tend to stay where they've died," he continued, "Walking away from that area is, uhm, uncomfortable to say the least." He curled his hand into a fist and pressed it to his abdomen. "Here, it's a strange uncomfortable feeling here, like your whole body is being yanked down into the ground through your feet. If you get far enough away, it starts hurting really bad." He laughed another sad laugh. "As long as you stay within the same couple of streets, it's bearable, but being a Ghost isn't all it's cracked up to be."

  "What is it that you need to accomplish?" Karen asked.

  Zac shrugged. "Who knows. Many of us rarely know. We'll find out when it happens, I guess.”

  Karen offered him a sympathetic smile and tried giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder, but her hand went straight through him, the familiar icy feeling shot up her arm as she stumbled through him, losing her balance. She just managed to catch herself before she crashed into a pyramid of neatly stacked glasses behind the counter. He laughed loudly. "Oh, ha ha, very funny," she sneered at him with mock anger before she laughed with him. "Idiot."

  “Sorry, sorry,” he offered, motioning to her to try again. This time he was solid. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug, and before he could turn insubstantial on her she quickly ran her hand through his airy, floppy hair, messing it up even more than it usually was. “Hey!” he complained, still chuckling.

  A knock on the diner door demanded her attention and saved her from retaliation, she jumped at the chance and scooted past him. "Yeah you better fix that," she told him coyly, "I think I can hear Sly coming back." He threw a dirty dishcloth at her, but she dodged it easily as she made her way to the door. Her mood had improved greatly, Zac had given her something else to think about and the spring was back in her step. She practically bounced to the door. "Good evening," she happily announced to the pair of Vamps outside, "Please, do come inside."

  Seven.

  Karen rubbed her temples, she was tired for some reason. It had been a long shift, but it had been so easy. No ridiculous demand of meat she had to keep up with, or wrong blood orders she needed to sort out. Everything straight forward and easy. Even the breakfast rush had been surprisingly tame and ended early. It was not even six but only a few customers were left in the diner. It gave her lots of time for the mind-numbing tasks of wiping down the last blood splatters on the front tables, neatly arranging the ketchup bottles, that were only there for show, and making sure every tin had the right number of utensils that were barely used.

  Her foot slipped in a bit of soggy mince on the floor and she swore at herself under her breath, she could blame an overeager Were, but that mince was her own fault. While she had mastered the art of carrying plates without spilling, carrying more than three at once was still a little tricky. Slapping her cloth onto the counter she sighed and rubbed her neck. She would have to go get the mop. How annoying.

  "I let Zac go early," Sylvester said, pulling her out of her stupor. She hadn't heard him approach her, but she was so used to his stealth now it didn't surprise her. He could pop up anywhere and she would hardly bat an eyelash at it. "I assumed we could handle the rest of this-" He waved his hand at the near-empty diner around him lazily and continued, "-this mob of starving maniacs." He chuckled at his own joke and sipped at his glass.

  "Do you ever pay for that?" Karen asked, pointing to the blood.

  "Perks of the job," he huffed, pretending to be offended at th
e question.

  The last customers got up from their table, two elegant Vamps looking incredibly expensive, and walked over to her. "Will that be all?" Karen asked, motioning to the two empty bottles left on their table, "Or is there anything else I can help you with?"

  The taller of the two flashed his fangs in a slippery smile and slid the money across the counter at her. "No thank you, that will be all." Then he stuffed a note into Karen's tip jar.

  "Thank you so much," she exclaimed enthusiastically. Vamps were a lot of things, but they were also amazing tippers. And she definitely appreciated that. ”That's too much, I couldn't possibly-”

  ”Please," he stopped her. The Vamp waved it off with a dark smile, but pleasure sparked in his gaze that lingered like a caress, the kind of elegantly fabricated indifference to her gratitude that only a Vamp could offer. He pretended it was no big deal and didn't like to be thanked, and she amped up her gratitude pretending it was the best tip she had ever received. The same old dance Vamps enjoyed so much. With a self-satisfied smile, the Vamp straightened before turning to Sylvester. "Will we see you at Vein sometime this week, Sevenskins? You've been absent so long, we're beginning to miss you."

  Sylvester ran his finger along the rim of his glass. "I've been working, Mas, training new staff, haven't had the time."

  An unspoken conversation passed between them in looks Karen couldn't decipher, leaving her confused, looking from one party to the other, back and forth. Until the Vamp Mas chuckled and snaked his arm around his companion's waist, seductively running his other hand up and down her arm till she purred at his action. "And what a delightfully tasty parcel you have been training," he drawled eying up Karen, making her want to take a step further back. The playful exchange they had shared forgotten, at once he was a predator. She could sense the change, feel it when he looked at her. His companion laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that filled the silence to the brim. The laugh was melodic, soothing and Karen felt her head spin. Suddenly something heavy was in the air, something sweet and alluring. She felt herself grab hold of the counter. Something tingled, something tickled.

  “Enough,” Sylvester warned the Vamps, his voice steady but commanding.

  Karen gasped loudly when she felt the ground beneath her feet turning solid again and rubbed her forehead. “What, uhm, what the...?” she mumbled. She had felt dizzy, she had felt like she could have fallen asleep. Was she exhausted? She must have worked too hard, forgotten to drink enough water.

  “She belongs to Alyssa,” Sylvester continued casually, ignoring Karen's confusion, slowly running the tip of his tongue along the rim of his glass. “Surely, you would not want to upset her.”

  Mas laughed loudly, joined by his beautiful companion again. "I will see you at Vein." With a curt nod and another slippery smile in Karen's direction, both Vamps glided to the door in their opulent elegance, their shoes barely making a sound on the vinyl floor.

  Karen watched them go, finding it incredibly hard to tear her gaze from them. But the sun's rays shone in through the grimy, dusty windows where boards didn't cover completely. “Wait, how are they going to- Won't they be-” The sound of an umbrella being opened shut her up. It was large and black as night, and both Vamps huddled under it like infatuated lovers. They walked into the sunlight, sheltered from the rays by the umbrella and Karen almost snorted in disbelief. “For real?” she heard herself mutter.

  Sylvester nodded, a wide grin exposing his dangerous fangs. “Our tricks are many, little human.”

  “It seems a little risky. One strong wind and they're goners.”

  “When you live as long as we do, risks are meant to be taken,” he said with a shrug, “Otherwise, what is the point? It keeps our existence exciting.”

  "You Vamps are interesting creatures," she commented, shaking her head.

  "Very," Sylvester said walking closer to her, pushing his glass slowly along on the counter. He was about to make another vulgar remark, another slick invitation to find out just how interesting, no doubt. She could tell by the way his upper lip curled into a dangerous smile, his fangs scraping across his bottom lip. His hand was on her shoulder, his long fingers playing with a strand of her black hair. But he never had time to get the words out of his mouth before Alyssa stood in the center of the diner and coughed to get their attention. Karen almost jumped out of her skin with shock, she hadn't even seen her come in, the bell above the door hadn't made a sound. Sylvester was good at sneaking up on her, Alyssa was next level entirely.

  "Still on the clock I see?" Alyssa asked, her voice was sharp as a whip but her eyes sparkled with humor, "With not a customer insight?"

  ”As a matter of fact.” Sylvester straightened and let his hand fall away from Karen's shoulder. ”I was just about to send Karen here home, I can finish up,” he said emptying his glass in one gulp before adding, ”All by myself.”

  "Good." Alyssa sat down on one of the stools. Karen hadn't seen her since she found out she was a Witch and still hadn't really figured out how to react to her. Annoyingly, her initial reaction was to finger the notepad in her hands awkwardly as she just stared at her. Alyssa noticed her unease and her bell-like laugh rang out. "You've heard by now just who you work for, yes?" she asked, tapping her finger on her chin.

  Karen nodded hesitantly. "Yes, a Witch. But to be fair, with everything that I've seen and experienced so far, Cef could have told me you were Santa Clause and I probably wouldn't question it."

  ”I suppose it has all been quite a lot for you to take in over just a couple of weeks," Alyssa said and gave her a sympathetic look. "It will get better with time, I promise you." She then stood abruptly. "I merely came to check up on you, you seem to be in good spirits, I won't take any more of your time. Goodnight you two, I will retire for today and see you both tomorrow." With that she turned and started walking away, only she didn't walk out of the door as Karen had expected, instead she simply vanished. Disappeared more and more with each step until she was gone, as if swallowed up by shadows completely.

  "Did you just see-?" Karen mumbled, attempted to string a sentence together but it wasn't working. "Sly, did she just-?"

  "Yes. She does have a thing for drama, doesn't she?" He sat down his glass next to Karen. "Now, you, scoot.”

  ”Me, scoot?”

  “You, scoot.” His nimble fingers untied her apron, he slid it from her with a gentle tug and threw it behind the counter. “Get out of here, go home. I can take things from here. I'll close up.” Placing his hand on the small of her back he guided her towards the door.

  "Alright, alright," Karen pressed out between gritted teeth, trying not to fall as he pushed her. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving, just let me get my jacket first, alright?"

  "I guess that's fair enough," Sylvester complied, letting her go, "Humans are such silly creatures, needing warmth."

  "Yeah, yeah, I get it, you're so superior," Karen laughingly called out as she ran to the kitchen. She grabbed her jacket that was slung over a chair there, a quick goodbye to Pete, a wave to Sylvester, and she was off. The ring of the bell muffled by the door she closed after her. The chilly weather prickled her skin and she swaddled her jacket closer around her. She could see her breath in the air as she began to walk. Frosty winter mornings were never her favorites. The darkness engulfed her as she made her way down Void St., with its deep shadows and the occasional rustling in the trash, its broken, flickering streetlight and its abandoned atmosphere. She could hear the echo of her shoes being thrown around the tall buildings surrounding her. Only a month ago she would have been afraid, but now she rather enjoyed it. She liked the dark, she knew what was hiding in the shadows, she had met the monsters that went bump in the night. Most of them were her regulars.

  She had made it halfway home when she realized something. Her keys. In her bag. On the chair in the kitchen. Well, fuck. She stopped dead in her tracks. Maybe she should just go home, maybe Colin would still be there, he could let her in. But if he wasn't? No, she had to go back fo
r them. She retraced her steps quickly, getting back to the diner as fast as she could.

  The door was unlocked. Sylvester had turned the sign from Open to Closed but not locked the door, how odd. There were still lights on inside. The bell rang out when she entered but nothing happened, there was no Sylvester greeting her, or Alyssa, it was eerily quiet. Karen almost laughed at the irony, when the place was full of dead people it was actually more alive. She tiptoed to the kitchen, neat and tidy, Pete was good at cleaning up after himself. She turned to walk away when she noticed the blood cellar door was wide open. That was odd too. Sylvester always locked it up during the daytime. And him with it. Was something wrong?

  She walked down the stairs. Passing Sylvester's room on the left. Soft, flickering light filtered out into the darkness with the humming fridges filled with blood, his door was slightly ajar, it wasn't usually. Always closed. And always locked to Karen's disappointment, she was beyond curious to see his room. But now it was almost open. Well, I mean, that's practically an invitation, Karen thought, Just to have a quick look. She snuck closer to the door and placed her eye at the bright crack. It looked exactly as she expected a vampire lair to look like. The whole room felt more like a chapel than a bedroom, which she guessed made a kind of sense. Bare brick walls with their only decoration being the ancient wear and tear. Solid bookshelves with heavy reading material, new and old alike, some practically ancient. A desk in the far corner, looking as old and ornate as only furniture owned by an elegant Vamp could be. Thick, Turkish rugs adorned the smooth cement floor, large potted plants had been placed in corners, the brass pots reflecting the flickering light from the tall, thick candle holders with lit candles that appeared to be the only source of light in the room. But it was the coffin that dominated the space. Open to show the soft, red, velvet upholstery and shiny cushions. It was luxurious, huge and black with gold accents, monopolizing any attention she could spare. So very Sylvester she decided. A part of her had thought he was kidding when he said he had one. She fought against the urge to touch it, to try lying in it. It was morbid. She chuckled and shook her head, pushing the weird thought aside.