The Bitter Taste

Chapter 7

The bell from the shop door sounded, and The Dream-Maker jerked his head to the side in contempt. He stared at a small boy wandering around the shop. Losing his smile, he sighed and apologized to him. "I will return shortly, Benji, do look around."

Benji accepted the invitation with opened arms, and as soon as the man's back was turned, he wandered over to the metal door and away from the main part of the shop. Normally, he needed the key, like the man used the first time, but Benji did not notice the door was already unlocked.

Eager, he punched in the numbers and tried to slip his fingers around the edge of the metal door, but the door was heavy, a burden against his body as he pulled with all his might. He grunted, barely noticing the familiar figure looming from the other side of the door.

Standing in front of him, with a wide creepy grin on his face—entirely too large—was his brother. Or at least, what looked like his brother. He had the same brown mussed hair and golden irises, but there was something sinister about his once pale skin dulling grey and cracking.

He took a hold of the door, finally able to keep it open, and looked up, meeting eyes with the horrific sight. Benji screamed, the sound ricocheted throughout the shop, and he let go of the door, letting it swing, and close, sealing away his brother. He stepped back, faltering with his heart at the race with his breathing, and fell into the wall.

"Benjamin!" his mother called from behind him furiously.

He turned, processing what had happened. "Mom?" he questioned, unsure of what to say to her.

"I went to go meet these boys, and saw you cross the street," she said, her voice shrill, and full of anger. "I found you here instead!"

She looked toward the door, then back at him confused. "What on Earth are you doing here? I hope not indulging in any sugar," she spat, her brows knitting.

"Mom..." he started, but the words were stuck in his mouth, glued to his molars like the butterscotch he tried months ago. The words overflowed, leaving his mouth in a stream, but she could not hear them. "I saw Noah."

She went quiet and twisted around. The Dream-Maker had placed a cold hand on her shoulder. Her eyes darkened, as his aura did, and her mouth pulled down into a discouraging frown as she turned to face him. Anger brewed from within his mother.

"Are you the owner of this shop?" she asked, gritting her teeth, her words spewing venom.

The man tilted his head to the side and smiled lightly. He shifted in his demeanor around Benji's mother, relaxing his shoulders and his smile. "Ah yes, I am. You must be his mother," he said, pointing to Benji with a crooked white finger. "He's been a joy to have around the shop."

Her brows furrowed in further and tightened as she grabbed Benji's forearm, gripping her fingers around his tiny wrist. She yanked him forward and Benji winced as he was flung. "I won't have my son listening to you and eating these sugar-filled cavity makers!" she exclaimed bitterly.

The man jolted, appalled by Benji's mother's jarring tone. His lip flinched, jeering upward as his eyes darkened. He tried to calm himself with a sigh before retaliating. "Why miss, no need to yell in front of him," he said, crossing the line.

"I can do damn near whatever I please when it comes to my son!" she hissed.

He stepped back; her words were physical, preparing to attack.

"I am but a humble candy-maker. I mean no harm to you or your son," he explained, laughing nervously. "Come, let me show you."

Benji retracted his hand from his mother and stood back against the wall once more, trying to get as far away from the man as he was able. "No, he's not!" he exclaimed.