The Diner

The waitress served the four people, who were the only customers left. There was an older man in the far corner of the diner, but the waitress didn't include him. He had a habit of staring at her, and he was always present during her night shifts. She suspected that he had a thing for her, but she would never date an older guy, not even for money. 

She would rather attend to this odd late-night crowd, then go near that creep. 

When they walked in, there wasn't your usual banter like you would expect from friends or family. This group entered the diner, and walked over to a table, dead silent. They only chatted whenever she was away in the kitchen, or attending to other duties. Even though she was used to people stopping to talk whenever she went over to check if the customers needed anything else, this group felt a bit off. 

Whenever they grew silent, three out of the four wouldn't look at her. They would stare off into space, as if they were statues. Only the pretty woman would address her, giving her a neutral response every time she checked on the table, but it still felt like she was telling her to fuck off. 

The three men were the kind of people that you wouldn't expect to even be friends. One of them was freakishly tall, his face covered by his long black hair, and he sat next to the pretty woman. There was quite a handsome man sitting next to the oldest one, who had the blackest eyes the waitress had ever seen. It didn't look natural to the waitress, to the point where she was uncomfortable to even be near him. But that same feeling went for the rest of the group too. 

There was something about each of them, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Nor did she want to. That was the probably for the best. For some reason, she knew not to piss these people off. 

She scurried away after the woman's response, and she went back to whatever she could find to do, as she continued to steer clear of the creep in the corner. 

The tall man assessed the waitress, but she did not pose a threat. The handsome man gave her a quick onceover, but was not impressed by what he saw. His eyes went back to the oldest man, who was considered their leader. He offered him a dashing smile, in invitation to a possible night together, but the leader ignored him. Perhaps he would consider it, since the handsome man and the pretty woman who happens to be his sister, were the reasons for his escape from his old plane of existence. 

Now he was able to walk the Earth, a dream he was beginning to believe would never be possible. He chose a young man as his vessel for now, but he wasn't expecting the vessel to chase about twenty years in only three days. He chalked it up to the vessel not being able to handle his power, but the sister believed this change was a result of wanting to portray his evil side, sort of like a metaphor of how he looks on the inside. 

The old man thought this was stupid, but since his powers were the same in this old body, he wasn't going to cry over it. Beggars can't be choosers, as the old saying goes. 

"What should we do about the fuckers who are hunting us?," the handsome man asked. 

The pretty woman took a sip of her coffee. 

"We need to be discreet about this. Remember they have that FBI agent with them."

The oldest man tapped his fingers against the table. The handsome man licked his lips in a suggestive manner, but again, the oldest man ignored him. 

"The FBI agent won't be a problem, Jane. He may be powerful, but he won't dare ever fight me. He is my son, but he isn't strong enough to take me. And he will bow to me, eventually."

"I hope he does, sir. Otherwise, we will have a big problem on our hands."

The old man smiled at Jane, but didn't take offense to the comment. If it had been anyone else, he would have gladly ripped out their hearts. 

"Don't worry, my dear. I will ensure he will never be a problem. He won't be able to stop our plans."

The handsome man grinned. 

"When are we going to start, sir?"

"Tonight. I think we should leave behind an example for my son to find. We should start off slow. And kill someone that won't be missed."

The pretty woman pointed in the direction of the creep in the corner.

"Our waitress doesn't seem to like that asshole over there. Should we start there?"

The old man nodded. 

"Yes. And please leave her a good tip. She gave us good service."

"And if she hadn't?", Jane asked. 

"I still would have chosen that asshole over there."

Jane shrugged. 

"Alright, then."

"What should we do with him?," the handsome man asked. 

The old man looked at Jane and the tall man. 

"I want you both to make an example of him. Tear off his skin, but do it slow."

"Understood," Jane replied. 

The old man turned to the handsome man. 

"Let's go back to the hotel."

The handsome man's grin returned. He understood what his duties for the night would be. It was his second favorite thing to do, but killing would always be his number one. But he was willing to serve his master. 

The old man bid a farewell to Jane and the tall man, and left with the handsome man. Jane watched as they took the car, and she rolled her eyes after they took off. 

"My brother is such an idiot. He is willing to sleep with anyone or anything," Jane muttered. 

She pulled out her wallet. 

"I'm going to leave a twenty-dollar tip for her. She did a good job. She will need it after we get rid of that fucker for her. Where should we dispose of him? Any ideas?"

"Arrowhead Avenue 1239 Street," the tall man said softly. 

"Good idea. A neighborhood murder would be good for them to find."

And so they waited, until the woman's shift was over. Until they saw the creep follow her out of the diner. They followed him, and pulled him away before he could reach the woman. He had pepper spray on him, a tool that he was finally going to use on the waitress to take home with him to do whatever he pleased. His fantasy was now going to become his reality, but now in the way that he expected. 

His screams would last for hours, as the pretty woman and the tall man tortured him. They started with his face first, and the woman wore his face for the rest of the night. 

She didn't do it for her master's wishes, but for her own. 

Her favorite part was always the reactions of her victims. 

As cliche as it sounds, it was like music to her ears. 

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Thank you for reading!

Emy Quinn