<Chapter 2>

Monday morning was quite alright just as it used to be. At exactly 6:29 am, I was up, ready in my hands was a big glass of lukewarm mixture of distilled water and fresh lemon juice. I never missed a weekday without taking my healthy to-go diet drink. Then the rest of other human daily activities were carried out; brushing of the teeth, bathing, friendly greeting with roommate, special preparation of healthy salad with extra virgin oil dressing(and also another glass of lukewarm lime and water mix) ten minutes of frog jumping (for exercise of course) and I was off to work.

Only thing that befuddled me at work that day was the same dream I'd been having lately. It happened again the night before and almost ruined my morning. My eyes shut closed and ignored the faint chattering of the customers spewing out their life histories. Soon, all the noises became a faint in-the-background muffling and muttering.

I was in a room, with nothing but darkness as it's atmosphere, yet, it was all black. Darkness wasn't black. It was only the absence of all things good. All things living. It was the presence of the curse of vast emptiness and nothingness.

I was all alone in that strange vicinity with no one around me, not even my own shadows for a company. Then, the same sonorous voice called out to me. It was pleasant, and yearned so much for my companionship as I, as well wished for hers. We were supposed to be inseparable. Amidst it all, the pains, the sufferings, the hatred and rejection and ostracization, amidst all of it! WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE TOGETHER! AND NOW SHE WAS... GONE!

My eyes flung open and I felt my heart would fly out of my chest from it's uncontrollable beating. It was unfair. It still hurt like the very first day it had happened.

Life was unfair.

Just in front of me stood a petite lady, hair rich and long in purple dye and deep purple lipstick. Matching color of ugliness.

"Yo, dude?" She called, waving her witch claws for nails before me, "I've been here for like fourteen seconds already. Where's my tea?" She frowned, and if I could have advised her, I would tell her never to do that with her face again.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry. What was it that you wanted again?" I asked, knowing clearly well I had unleashed the very best wicked dragons of hell.

"Oh my god." She screeched, irked for the same reason as the others did. Because she was one of them. "Oh-my-fucking-god!" Classic tiny brainless children who pronounced themselves as teenagers, and not only that, they said they were the 'popular kids'.

How irritating. I wondered why people followed these types of menacing creatures, but as I always said, "Evil was always growing."

"Don't tell me nothing. This is why I always tell that stupid manager of yours, to stop bringing stupid elderlies like you here at the Cafe. It's just so stupid." She pronounced the 'stupid' like 'stew-paied', or something like that. "Yo' so old!"

"Sorry for the, sorry..." my eyes scanned round me like a predator searching for its prey, and the excitement I saw when I found him was delightful. "Uh, look kid," her eyes flashed out in disgust the moment I called her kid, but I didn't care. "This young man, he's young and he'll take care of you. Thank you." And with that, I dragged Jerry over and excused myself.

I hated humans.

****

It was time for my shift to end and I couldn't contain the joy that filled my gut. My boss, Mr Pitt only showed up during the later hours of the evening, and that was good news for me. We barely met since I got hired as a morning/afternoon attendant. Once it was five o'clock, I disappeared from the vicinity of the Cafe, striding down the streets to my house.

I heaved in the evening weather, fresh and chilly once I ignored the reeking smell of burnt buns and onions and grease from the kitchen. Jerry, one of my coworker, walked over to me as I was in the middle of dropping my apron. I was also praising myself for having stayed long outside with the humans. It wasn't an easy challenge you see, and from time to time, I always gave myself all the necessary praises that was required.

"Sir Elmer," he called or rather, interrupted my quick session. Jerry was the exact type of boys young people wanted and it was the main reason Mr Pitt had hired him. He had long hair that covered half of his face, and a strong American accent. "The boss wants to see you."

What?

"What boss?" I asked, stupidly. He stared at me with eyes I couldn't quite understand. Was he smiling? Or perhaps angry. "Alright then." Displeased and a bit furious, I excused myself from his presence and diddle-daddled my way to his office.

Walking into Pitt's was an exact replica of those horror scenes in movies where one plodded into his own death. A creepy thin hallway lead to his office and even from a few distance away from the entrance, I could perceived the stenchy odor of rotten eggs and dead fishes. I hoped that was not what truly reeked and imagined it were probably his poor choice of perfumes and air fresheners.

Finally, at the entrance of the door, I knocked. Twice to be extra sure if he was inside. No reply.

Thank the gods of Brooklyn, I was free from—

"Come in." The voice shrill and rasp wheezed out. Mr Pitt was a mad man.

Taking in a breath of ... well, a breath, I entered. I wished I had exhaled more of what I thought was rotten eggs and dead fish smell because once I got inside, it was worst. The room was airless and very dirty. Dirty in the sense that it smelled awful and was basically so cluttered with piles of nonsense everywhere. My first step landed in a chunk of dark cruddy water. Was the whole room not dark and cruddy?

He sat in the middle on an old sofa. The same way his office had been since I entered four years ago. Nothing had changed. The ceiling fan that stopped working ages ago was still mounted up. Littered books were still disorderly organized in the same manner, or so I thought. The only piece or furniture was what lied in the very center of the room, where Mr Pitt was seated in.

"Hello sir," I walked my way into his presence, signaling my arrival. "You called for me?"

Sitting on the tardy chair was a short wiry man with stiff hair and an ugly frown. He was maybe in his late fifties, though he claimed to be older. This mad man told me he was using the powers of the darkness to make himself younger and he was way older than I thought.

"Sit down," he said, and I turned to look at the place he observed to be a chair. The sofa was old that I feared it might be the same age as this man, and had stains of what I wouldn't like to call blood, plastered all over the corners. It was pale yellow, or it used to be, during the day. When evening fell, his office was the first place to had experienced it. A tiny window was to the front, but it did almost no effort in welcoming fresh breeze, or light or anything in particular.

"If it is alright with you, I'd love to remain where I am-"

"Sit." His tone wasn't really authoritative, it was rather... forlorn. Like he actually wanted me to sit with him.

With not much choice, I sat. Just as he'd said, only without so much comfort or excitement. I almost knew what he was going to talk to me about.

"You must know why I have called you here," he said, but I couldn't simply adhere to the truth, so I pretended not to know why I'd been summoned, by slightly nodding in bemusement. "I suppose you don't." He scowled, "all staffs of my Cafe belong to my dark cult, Mr Bernstein. All of them... Except you."

He always mentioned a secret cult and had invited me multiple time to join him. Of course I'd always refused his offer. Occultism was only a hobby for the rejected lonesome minded people, and so far, I didn't think I'd gotten to that level just yet. I was still happy with my roommate.

"Well, it's because I don't always have much time on my hand-"

"We have a meeting tonight, you see,"

"Exactly, there's no time," I said, hoping he would release me already.

"Why are you so stubborn? I asked you to join us, why is that so difficult for you?" He asked.

I decided to tell him: "I just, I'm not interested in your pathetic loner's club, Mr Pitt. I'm an adult, unlike the rest of you," but decided to go with a more dishonest statement. "Mr Pitt, I have a quite busy life. I'm sorry."

"You work at a local Cafe, Mr Bernstein." He said, his tone sarcastic.

"Well, and yet I'm still so very busy." I managed a scoff that resembled a faint laugh.

"I can offer you so much more. Satan would do you the good deeds and-"

"I'm sorry, Satan?" I thought I didn't hear him well.

"You don't have to be scared. He is our savior-"

"I'm not scared, Mr Pitt. Rather, I'm quite amused." I confessed, not able to contain my smirk of disbelief. All of those names about hell and heavens and angels and demons, they're nothing but mere myth.

"Oh, well you better be. Because he is real."

I waited for him to sink in clearly well in his madness, "but I don't believe so." Even in the shadows, judging from his brief paused, I sensed he'd flashed furrowed brows at me. "They're all just made up stories said by our forefathers to fill our minds, sir."

"But that's not true, my friend. He is real, and so are his principalities." He changed his position on the sofa, sitting more comfortable. "I can assure you, just trust me. Join us."

The man was going nuts again. I just knew it. "I think I should be leaving now, sir."

"Leaving? You can't leave. You- you," his voice faltered off, then I took it as my cue to run out. It was getting dark already and Sam triple zero eight would have been getting hungry already. "Alright then," his voice halted me to a pause. "Confirm that the great being I serve, is as real as the ones the christians serve, and tell me of your findings tomorrow morning." He said, then asked "how?" Just as if he knew what my next question would be, he began to explain. "Exactly at 3am by morning, go to the mirror and recite this song ninety nine times, with the most sonorous voice you can come up with-"

"Ninety nine times?"

"You're right. Make that a hundred and ninety nine times. After that, you'd see that he will bring you to our midst. We have a meeting at exactly that time in Tokyo and we shall be expecting you."

"Tokyo? At 3am?." I asked again, realizing just how much of a batty man my boss was.

"Yes." He replied with much confidence. "Time works rather strange in the spirit world and with you on my team, I can take you places round the world." His tone, rasp and like a mere whisper.

"Didn't you tell me that I should first make proof of your claims?"

"So?"

"But now you're asking me to join. Even as I don't much believe in your secret cult."

"Well..." He thought for a while. "Fine. You smarty panties—"

Smarty panties?

"—then, do this instead. Invoke a face of our master in your midst. Whatever happens, tell me tomorrow and if truly something supernatural occurs, you have to join us. You must be honest with yourself and tell no lies."

"And how are you so confident that something supernatural would occur?"

"Because it is real. All of this is real. There is another world besides ours and it is our choice to explore them all. Now, look to the mirror at exactly 3am in the morning, and stare so focused into the reflection you see, then call on the name, "Oh satanic Lord," and watch what happens. You might have to call it multiple times, but just try once at first, then call it again, and again, and again-"

"I think I've got it now, thank you very much sir."

"Before you leave," he stopped me again, as I was already up to my feet, ready to run out. "You must be honest with yourself, Mr Bernstein. If truly you see something, let me know at once."

****

Nighttime came and the words of Mr Pitt repeated in my ears. 3am, he'd said.

Was I up the exact eerie time searching for some satanic god that didn't exist? Of course not. I was in bed at exactly two hours before midnight. My normal time to go to bed, and my alarm had been set to same 6:29 am.

Little did I know of the mysteries that lurked around, waiting for me already.

I had not done it on purpose. They came to me, and now I must reveal their identity.

Even if they didn't wanted me to.

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