Through The Dark Depth

Prologue

"Welcome!" The man behind the counter welcomed him with a wide smile on his face. His teeth glistens, greeted the customer happily.

The customer shudders. His pale skin and hunched back made people stare at him for a couple of times. He acknowledged their stares but didn't bother to say anything due to how often it occurs.

The man coughed---a fake cough. "H-hi."

"Hello, Sir. My name is Dean, I'll be at your service today."

The man squinted, as if he forgot to wear his glasses, though it seems like he shows his confusion on his sleeve. "Aren't you the cashier?"

"Indeed, I am. But I'm also the fill-in server, Sir. You see, I'm alone today! My coworkers called in sick, some of them took the day off," Dean answered. "So, how may I help you today?"

The man with hunched back took a glimpse at the menu above Dean. He read a couple of things and soon after glanced back at his feet. While he thinks, he keeps fidgeting his fingers.

Dean noticed the man's jitters, but he said nothing. Instead, he took a glance at the café. People are seated, drinking their coffee, iced tea, and boba tea in peace. Some of them are in groups, either gossiping or discussing work and/or school projects.

He also noticed some of the people steal a glance at the man in front of him every once in a while. Some of them looked at him with horror, or rather, disgust. Some of them looked at him with confusion and the group who gossips whispered every now and then.

Dean lets out a long breath. "Would you like me to give you a recommendation, Sir Arthur?"

"W-yes, that would be---wait, what did... what did you just call me?" The man, Arthur, finally looks up. His gaze met with Dean's. Something about Dean's eyes is quite unsettling, but his friendly face shakes it off.

"Sir Arthur," Dean repeated.

"H-how... how do you know my name? I haven't mentioned it yet."

"I know my customers' names. Every single one of them." Dean gives Arthur his reassuring smile. He looks relaxed, calm, and undemanding. As if Arthur's appearance in his café is his greatest joy and relief.

Arthur blinked rapidly; something he does when he feels nervous. "But I... this is my first time in your café."

"Correct," Dean nodded, "which means you're a customer of mine now, Sir Arthur."

Something is off.

Something about Dean is off.

Arthur knows something about Dean is off. Although the man behind the counter still looks as relaxed and friendly as ever, something behind his smile is off. He wants to say something, anything, to Dean. And yet, his tongue become numb; something that usually happens when he feels scared or nervous.

The more he struggles, the more he fidgets. He could feel people's eyes stabbing his hunched back. He's certain people are more and more unsettled with his existence and behavior.

He wants to leave.

He wants to turn his back and leave the café immediately but he's unable to. Arthur can't get his legs to move, as if they're glued down to the floor.

Something about Dean is off.

Arthur wants to say something to Dean. Something like, "I'm sorry, I changed my mind. I'll order something another time." but he can't form a proper sentence. His mind went blank right after Dean called his name.

Something about Dean is off.

He wants to scream. He wants to shout. He wants to run. He is afraid of the man behind the counter although that very man is still smiling; the friendliest smile people would've ever seen. Even though Dean is the most respectful person Arthur has ever encountered by far, he is concerned about something about Dean.

Something behind that friendly smile of his.

Something off about Dean is....

Something off about Dean is....

Before Arthur could manage to finish his thoughts, Dean leaned closer to him. His reassuring smile is still plastered on his face.

But when Dean starts to whisper, that reassuring smile finally transforms into something else.

"Aren't you tired of how people look at you? Of how people treat you?"

Arthur's whole body froze when he hears Dean's words. Anything he told Arthur after that is blurry; inaudible.

Arthur seems to forget about Dean's message.

The only thing he remembers after Dean put some... sense, in his mind, is he finally went home.

Everything after that is also blurry.

But without a shadow of a doubt, Arthur just murdered his sister.

Because right now, he is sitting before the poor girl's pool of blood with a screwdriver in hand, covered in the same crimson red on the floor.

***

793 words.