Case No. 11
CAFE & DINER THIRD CAFE · LONG BEACH, CA · LATE NIGHTS AND COMFORT FOOD
CAFE AND DINER RECEIPT FROM 10/05/17
EMPLOYEE 1313
RECEIPT: MRSAMSAIM02
STATUS: OPEN
Nine feet tall and thin as death,
The air itself is trapped beneath her breath.
With every movement she creates,
Pools of silky smog in her wake.
We arrived in the marshes of white and were greeted with quite the home-fried fright. The ghoulish Amsaim and her fiendish gas do consume this godforsaken morass. The tourists fear what they cannot know, and it is clear that this fog simply won't go. Keep in mind one must never meet her icy stare, or else their lungs will lose their air. While death waits patiently at the door, no tourists have greeted him yet of that, I'm sure.
I've seen her glide from glade to glen in the early hours of morning's zen. Juice of orange seems the goal, for juice alone, might have me lose my soul. It might be wise to book her flight if we can find an airport near these planes of white. The texter has taken the task of taking tourists away, while the cowboy has decided he would rather stay and play. Though he has yet to confront the fog head-on, I fear a confrontation won't be long.
Though there is something funny about Mrs. Amsaim that sets her apart from Stevens and Honey. I believe she might be a fan of small talk and chit-chat, and if that is the case, well, we can give that a try at bat. We haven't had the pleasure of speaking to a customer who was once laid in a sepulcher, though prior to speaking with her, we need to confer. Does the risk outweigh the reward? Or will we only be heading toward the lord?
Caffeinated Report: C-ICE04
"Turned on today."
Reference | 1 Word
Caffeinated Report: C-FOG03
"Mrs. Amsaim comes on little cat feet."
Poetry Trivia | 2 Words
Caffeinated Report: C-FOG04
"Stranger than Wayne and Rogers workin' together I reckon."
Western Trivia | 2 Words
Caffeinated Report: C-FOG05
"Home of Mrs. Amsaim."
Reference | 1 Word
Caffeinated Report: C-FOG06
"Farthest Out."
Reference | Abbreviation Trivia | 1 Word
CAFE AND DINER RECEIPT FROM 10/09/17
EMPLOYEE 1313
RECEIPT: MRSAMSAIM07
STATUS: OPEN
Deep in the hollows of the earth and soil,
A wretched corpse begins to spoil.
Swarmed by flies that fester in the gore,
Their buzzing bellies yearn for more.
We followed the flies to where they hid and, in their lair, we discovered something to make one stare. A corpse swarmed with buzzing beasts amid their horrid ravenous feast. But strange enough, this body I recognized was a customer in disguise. Nothing more than a minor miner's friend, now a fly-infested corpse. We watched the flies feed for a while, and once they were done, they fled with fast speed. They burrowed into hollows of trees upon which they were once more gone from this plane with ease. Upon chopping the tree down, we found etched a demonic noun. Amsaim said it read a single word: "Crow."
What this means, I do not know. Satisfied with what we uncovered, Amsaim promised to return to darkness' cover. We, too, will return to Cafe's light, and tomorrow, the final receipt I will write. Though this time, things were different than before, perhaps what worries me is the newfound gore. Our miner's friend was not the perpetrator of this act; instead, it seems he was attacked. And not only that, but the aggressor in this sordid tale seems to be the buzzing guys, the wretched swarm of flies. Could this be the natural end of each case, that the flies consume the last trace of each revived customer's face?
Or… could this development be new? Have the flies begun to chew on those they once flew through in a devious form of a coup? Have their appetites grew and grew? Like rising yeast, their hunger too has grown, and now the little beasts must feast and feast. This could prove quite dire… if these soul-bound flies have truly gone haywire.
Caffeinated Report: C-FOG08
"TMYNKR."
Abbreviation Trivia | 1 Word
CAFE AND DINER RECEIPT FROM 10/10/17
EMPLOYEE 1313
RECEIPT: MRSAMSAIM09
STATUS: PAID
Friend or foe, I do not know.
But with the gloom and doom now lifted,
The Sun can grace once more the West with its glow.
Still... I feel that the tides of ebon have now shifted.
Mrs. Amsiam has paid her tab at the Cafe and Diner for now. Although her friendliness might have raised a brow. I wish to remind everyone that Mrs. Amsiam is, in fact, married, and should we forget that we might end up buried. What we now know is that the flies are feeding a Crow. Who or what is this avian beast? Mrs. Amsiam nor I know… except it has a need to feast. In any case, Mrs. Amsiam has returned to Ottawa, so I'm considering her tab as no longer overdrawn.
Strange, though, they would send such a shade to check on this event. Stranger still, who would have her this way sent? I can't claim to know the flow of the pits of stygian black, but could it be someone within has our back? From what I've always known, the customers who lurk in that deepest darkness aren't too pleasant on their own. Things are shifting in the final steps of hell, at least from what I can tell. I can't shake the feeling that a king has come to reign over caverns of gloom and glum. A king, or beast, or creature, I cannot say. Though it will not be easy to keep his influence at bay.
Morbid. That is his name. I feel it in my bones. I feel it deep inside me. There is a Morbid King, and his plans are darker than any darkness I could possibly see.
A Morbid king sits upon the sunken throne of Ys,
His words are coated in thick sludge and grease.
His gurgles and groans bemoan a pleading cry,
To rise, and rise, and rise again to shift the tide.
To slay the night and bathe in her blood,
To march forward into their ancestral flood.
To ride the tides of engulfing black,
To once more take the afterlife back.