C-HOD-003
Barista: Jericho Myerscough
Date: Feb-3-2020
Receipt: C-HOD-003
Subject: The Dead
It's not just a feeling anymore, is it? There are eyes out here. Far too many, and yet none you can see.
I noticed it back in the ████████. Thought maybe it was just the █████’s doing. That kind of place doesn’t need eyes to stare at you. But out here in the open, with nothing but rolling green and open air? I’ve still got that same crawling pressure between my shoulder blades and it’s not just Daichi’s fatass.
This morning…? Afternoon? Whatever the hell time it actually is, I caught sight of…
…Them.
Up in the trees. Pale little men, folded all sorts of wrong, like their bones forgot how to rest. Their eyes glowing dull orbs like dying embers caught behind skin. Their arms were wings. Not bird wings. Batlike. Wrapped around themselves like they were trying to stay warm inside their own █████████ bodies.
███████████████████.
█████████████████.
████████ bastards.
We told stories about them when I was a kid. Right messed up lullabies my nan used to spin for us. Or maybe it was just me. I suppose precious little Jordy doesn’t need to worry about bumps in the night like I did. Like I do. Anyway—Don’t look out your window too long, don’t linger where the wind bends unnaturally. They ride the air at dusk and dawn. They gather where █████ is soon to be near. They whisper, horrid and cracked, like the last breath of someone you couldn’t fucking save.
They're not attacking us. Not yet. Just watching. Always just past our sight. Katherine’s seen ‘em too if her receipt is anything to go by. You look straight at ‘em and they fade to mist, but you look sideways and you can feel them there.
Waiting.
I don’t know what they want. Maybe nothing. Just curious about the gaggle of █████ folk walking their ██████ isle ███████. Maybe they’re just curious what kind of ████ we’d make. Maybe it’s the rotten stench of ████████████ █████ still clinging onto us.
I know I still smell that.
Decaffeinate Receipt
"Hosts of Glas"
Research | 3 Words