The pallor of street lamps permeate the inky blackness of midnight. It is well past my shift, but I have more articles to edit. All my colleagues had vacated their cubicles, but the sterile office lights keep me company. While monotony is usually undesirable, here mundanity is welcome.
However whatever illusion of normalcy I confide in is shattered by the sudden dimming of the office. In a few moments the only illumination emanated from my computer monitor and the rest of the floor is smothered in congealed darkness. As my eyes adjust to the sudden loss of light, I make out the contour of a figure, replete with broad shoulders and tall stature just outside my cubicle door.
‘ w-what who?’ I stammer.
The figure laughs, apparently amused by my startled befuddlement. Its voice is coarse and baritone, but otherwise unremarkable. As it steps through the door, into the tepid glow of my monitor, I notice it wore a jet black suit that made its pale face stand out. There are markings carved into its skin, symbols partial to runes. Its eyes are crimson embers that left dark spots in my vision, as if I was staring into a flashlight.
‘Apologies Ms. (K1ryn), I forgot your eyes are not… fit for beholding intense light’ It utters apologetically, as it slips on a pair of ebony sunglasses.
I got a better look at its features. Every part of its visage is just the right masculine proportion and perfectly symmetrical, every facial muscle moved in exactly the way one would expect, there is a degree of perfection that is not seen in nature, it…’he’ was beyond uncanny, he looks better than normal. However, instead of hair, innumerable strands of blood flow perpetually from his scalp, suspended in the air, tapering into imperceptible points.
‘ I was made aware that you review restaurants Ms. (K1ryn), it would be an honor to have you dine at my establishment, so our delicacies may be known in the human world.’
I am aware of ‘anomalous restaurants’. A while back a person named Chaz ambrose had approached a colleague in a similar manner, but he refused Chaz’s invitation after reading about what happened at ‘ambrose vienna’. Unfortunately in my case it seemed foolhardy to refuse the offer as my client was very ‘persuasive’, in a ‘do or die’ sort of way.
“Well, Mister?” I began.
“Call me Sem” He replied.
“Right, well I need some information about your restaurant Sem, before I, we can arrange for the interview”
Sem cups his left hand as if he is catching raindrops, a small paper card appears above his palm, rotating rapidly, literally spun into existence.
He plucks the object from the air and inserts it into his suit pocket, he motions at my purse. When I opened it, there it was. His card.
“Whatever time is best for you, simply arrive at the address on the card, after midnight but before dawn.” Sem informed.
“May I go tonight? this isnt a trick is it?” I ask, suddenly enamoured by the prospect of ending my shift with what promised to be a supernatural experience.
Sem smiled. “Personally I do not eat humans, some of my patrons do but I assure you everything we serve is ethically sourced.”
I nodded. Sem bowed, and glided out of the room without turning his back to me. As his semblance disappeared into the shadows, the office lights turned back on and it was as if he was never there. I examined his business card carefully. The address provided was in a clearing just outside of the suburbs.
When I finished editing the final article, I peer through the window, beholding a gaunt monstrocity standing next to an ochre cab. It is only marginally shorter than the street lamps, and clad in worn grey overalls. It gazes upwards at me; it has a blank slate for a face.
“slendermen” I whisper to myself.
The slenderman wove at me and motioned me to the passenger’s seat of the cab. When I made my way to the first floor and exited the building it still stood there, next to the cab, in the same pose. Motionless.
Realizing Sem took my request literally and sent the creature to pick me up, I enter the passenger’s seat of the car. Slenderman ambles clumsily to the driver’s seat. His body contorts and makes popping sounds as he attempts to fit his great stature into the tiny cab. I laughed. The entire scene is incredibly humorous and shows a side of these creatures you would never expect. Its blank featureless ‘face’ flushes pink and it looks away from me sheepishly.
We sat awkwardly in the cab for at least five minutes until I realized I needed to tell it where to go. I hand Slenderman, Sem’s card. A single black tendril erupts from its back and snakes to the card in its hand. A burst of blue light blossoms from the tip of its tendril, illuminating the card. It nods and returns the card to me. It flicks a switch with its finger and a recording plays.
“Thank you for choosing Slendermen Taxi Services, we care about making your trip as safe and enjoyable as possible, please avoid staring at your driver’s face for prolonged periods of time as it may induce delirium. Our drivers are certified Human, and Fae friendly. We perform an extensive background check to vet our employees for predilection for misdemeanor and we proudly have a one hundred percent safety score. Satisfaction is guaranteed or your money back. We only accept cash of any currency and phasmoexpress cards. Thank you for choosing us, as your preferred transportation for your preternatural excursion.” A static female voice projects through the speaker.
Everything grew darker the further we drove from the office until even moonlight failed and the world outside became an unintelligible mass of inky blackness. Perhaps I am too gullible, but I trusted everything that happened so far, from Sem, to my Slenderman driver. Even the absolute darkness outside the cab did not instill a sense of forboding. There is no comfort in the unfamiliar, but familiarity is an illusion. A lie that we keep telling ourselves.
After what felt like a few hours of driving, accompanied by endless radio replays of claire de lune, creepily hummed by what must be some sort of ‘ghost in the well’ type character, we arrive at a brightly lit plaza adorned with neat cobblestone tiles. Immense obsidian buildings surrounded the busy square. Warm light poured from the windows onto the plaza and lanterns hung between marble pillars spaced in a fractal pattern on the square. The architecture did not resemble that of any human culture, but intricate images engraved in its walls exuded sophistication. Accompanying each window a balcony projected forth, supported by miniature flying buttresses. I handed a five dollar bill to slenderman and he opened the car door for me.
A large group of giggling ‘sadako’ type beings walked past me. They all appeared female, with long black hair fully concealing their face, but intuitively I knew there was a mix of sexes. One of the taller ones of the group, pointed at me and all of them whispered excitedly. A shorter individual approached me. Its apparel is not the rags and dress one would expect from a ‘ghost’. Rather, it wore dark jeans and a black hoodie from a brand I did not recognize.
“You’re a Human!” ‘she’ exclaimed.
I nodded, unsure of what I should say.
“Oh my Gosh, we have like never seen a human before!” ‘she’ pipped.
I smiled awkwardly and ‘she’ continued.
“I’ve always wanted to visit your world but my parents never let me… They say ‘humans are too dangerous’” ‘She’ said, mimicking her parents in a mocking tone.
I was about to speak, but ‘she’ interrupted me.
“May we take a selfie with you?” She asked politely.
I nodded reluctantly and all of them huddled around me. The tall one held up a smartphone and they took a photo with me. While ‘her’ device appeared similar to an iphone, it had an image of a crow on its back instead of an apple logo.
Various humanoid monsters strolled about the plaza; pale, emaciated crawlers scampered past me on all fours, and flocks of dry leaves materialised into wizened elderly women. The various shops carved into the buildings are even more bizarre than the occupants, selling goods like clarified troll butter and fricasseed stray sod.
A tingling sensation crept up my neck as the stench of stale mothballs permeated the air. I turned around and saw a bug-eyed smiling figure staring at me a few steps away. It is dressed in a dirty pink gown extending to its knees and there are smears of black filth slathered upon its legs. Wiry ginger hair barnacled its patchy scalp, and its face glistened like wax. It moved towards me with a stiff limping gait, and I cried out.
The creatures around me did not register my plea, and I realised, while most of them weren’t bothered by my presence, most of them didn’t care enough to help either.
“There you are” A familiar baritone voice erupted from behind me, and the bugeyed creature retreated into a crowd its smile dampening considerably. I spun around and saw Sem. I was so relieved, I ran to him and gave him a hug. His bloody ‘hair’ slithered across my cheek. It felt warm to the touch. He gently nudged me away.
“I figured I was foolish to assume you could ever find your way here, so I called a taxi for you. I wanted to find you a human or godling driver, but the only choices we have at this hour are slendermen and vampires, and trust me, vampires are absolutely insufferable.” He exclaimed.
I nodded. “Will you take me to the restaurant now?” I asked softly.
“Right, this way” Sem motioned, as he escorted me through the supernatural plaza.
The plaza coalesced into narrow paths, winding labyrinthine, through well kempt patches of ornamental plants. Sem’s restaurant stood in the confluence of the garden labyrinth like a bleached palace floating on a verdant sea.
Marble statues, stacked together like totem poles, held up the structure. The sculptures consisted of humans and other beings engaged in decadent culinary debauchery. I am drawn to an immaculately carved obese horned figure downing a vat of winged humans, above it is an engraving of a man swallowing a roast beast whole and reliefs of strange vegetables strung everything together.
“I carved these myself” Sem mused. “I wanted to capture the soul of this place, of what we will feed you”
“Very impressive!” I exclaimed.
He shook his head. “my talent is in culinary arts, and my passion is hospitality.” He replied thoughtfully.
I nodded, and Sem led me through a romanesque archway , into the interior of the edifice. Inside, a narrow hallway culminated in an ebony podium. While it is dark outside, white light poured into the space from a row of gothic windows etched into the walls. I glanced outside one of the windows and there is only an endless sea of clouds. Confiding in mundane explanations, I figure the window is simply some supernatural wallpaper, until a golden hummingbird emerged from the clouds and flies through the window, into the hallway.
A dainty woman in a lacy dress perched over the stand. As she looks up from the podium I realize her eyes are a brilliant violet. She smiles warmly, revealing a pair of pointed fangs.
“Ahh Ms. (K1ryn) Semoram has informed me about you” She beamed. Her eyes dart to Sem, irises gleaming with playful malice.
“Don’t tell her my full name, Illicia” Sem mutters despondently.
“Did you know Semoram is an Ashryan name?” Illicia quips. Her gaze fixed on me once more.
I shrugged. I imagine my face held an expression of akwardness. Glancing over at Sem, I realize his face grew as red as his crimson hair.
“Enough of that Illicia, why dont you show our guest to her table” Sem interjects, regaining his composure.
“Of course, please follow me Ms. (K1ryn)” Illicia motions me to proceed through a stairway leading to a lower floor. Warm sepia light seeps through the glass ceiling overhead, where monolithic cathedrals extend endlessly into an orange sunset.
“w-where is that outside?” I ask Illicia.
“Neither here or there” she riddles, playfully.
The stairway culminates at the mouth of a great circular room surrounded by walls heavily barnacled with statues and stone motifs. A dozen round tables pepper the spacious floor around half of which are seated.
As we continue to my table I glanced at the other patrons. An ivory white man sips from his wine glass. His eyes met mine, and I notice he is made entirely of marble, or at least something very similar to marble. An exceptionally tall gaunt figure eyed me hungrily. Its matted hair reaching its navel. As I purchase a better look at its face, I realize its eyes are honeycombs of papery skin, and black wasps flit in and out of its skull.
“You’re not afraid of us?” Illicia interrupted.
“N-no, not at all” I stammered. “When I was growing up we had a huge german shepherd, it could easily tear me apart, but it never did. It never wanted too. Just because something is capable of something doesnt mean it will do it.” I continued.
“Well that almost makes me want to tear up” Illicia replies thoughtfully.
I nodded. I place my purse beneath the table and Illicia takes my coat.
“I hope we may make your evening as enjoyable as possible Ms. (K1ryn)” She muses as she walks away.
My eyes trail off after her and towards the roof. The dining room ceiling consists of glass as well. However, beyond its crystalline frame is a starry abyss peppered with dim specks of light. Instead of ‘natural’ light, the dining room is illuminated by a vast wooden chandelier suspended from the ceiling. Insect-shaped embers congregate around the structure, their conflagrance bathing the room in a golden glow.
“I can tell you what is beyond those windows” Sem appears, seated at my table.
I smile at him. At this point I am acclimated to his spontaneous appearances.
“They are the three dimensional surfaces of a four dimensional shape” He explains. “Just like how the surfaces of three dimensional forms are two dimensional the surfaces of four dimensional objects are three dimensional.” Recognizing I was completely lost at this point, he chuckles heartily.
“So you are a four dimensional being?” I ask.
“No, otherwise I couldn’t be here.” He replies with a smile, thoroughly enjoying my confusion.
“So Illicia is a vampire I’m guessing?” I interject, a little offended.
“That is correct” Sem exhales sharply. “She is my wife. As beautiful as she is insufferable.”
“Aww you make a cute couple.” I muse, a dumb grin plastered on my face.
Amuse Bouche, consists of several delicate slices of fresh rosy fish, arranged petal-like on a bed of impossibly translucent rice. Our waiter, a gray goblin-like creature, clad in a dapper umber suit, places the dish on our table.
“Siren crudo; sourced ethically from anadromous pacific mermaids, who have donated their bodies to gastronomy after death. Lightly seasoned with a marinade of alfheim lime, and Onryo soy sauce, brewed by the Kamimura Yurei family, served on a bed of pearl rice, sourced from a single mountain in Jotungheim, in a single waterfall, from a single plant.” Sem proclaims proudly.
I scoop up a morsel of rice and mermaid with my fork. Peach specks of fat saturated, rosy luscious flesh, it exuded a clean ocean scent with notes of citrus and rich fermentation of soy sauce.
Upon ingestion, I visualize myself in a frothy stream, face to face with a man with turquoise eyes. I realise he was my mate, and he hovered above a clutch of beady red eggs, my eggs.
“One last kiss…” I thought as I leaned forward and caressed his wavy blonde hair, which was not hair, but filamentous gills. Tears well up in me as I finish chewing, returning to the present.
“That is incredible! I have never tasted sadness in food.” I exclaimed gleefully.
Sem nods. “Mermaids that are slaughtered for their flesh are poisonous and bitter, but a willing donor promises a poignant culinary experience.”
Once I cleaned my plate, our waiter returns with appetizers. He places a cloth over what remained of the last dish and the plate disappears. Folding the cloth into his pocket, he serves the next course, bows, and leaves.
“The next course is Pate of Mountain Gods; featuring fattened liver of cockatrice; fed only on malt saturated with its own venom. Seasoned simply with flakes of Atlantean salt and saffron hair of hermathroditic dryads, this dish may evoke notes of longing and nolstalgia.” Sem explains.
The appetizer is not as much of an out of body experience as the amuse bouche, but it makes up for it with simple deliciousness. Cockatrice liver is rustic and buttery, sharp notes of its own fermented toxin counteracts its richness, and the fragrant dryad hair imparts complexity to the dish. It is not overtly pretentious, the best way I could describe it would be if strong wine turned into an animal and it was dry cured in herbs and spices. I did feel nolstalgia, but it was removed from any tangible event. It is more the abstract emotion of nolstalgia rather than any nolstalgia a person could naturally experience.
I peeked at the table next to us. A leathery winged creature of womanly countenance tore into a plate of blood red spaghetti.
“There are different menus?” I ask Sem.
“There are three menus, one for sanguinophages like the male succubus you were just spying on, one for humans and general fae, and the other for guests who cannot consume physical food.” He confirms with a smile.
“But enough questions, the next course is exquisite.”
Second course consists of three walnut sized meatballs atop a nest of linguine. Velvety tomato sauce is draped over the dish and miniature gold tomatoes are scattered artfully around the centerpiece.
“This one is inspired from a friend of mine. Chaz Ambrose’s ‘parmesan without equal’. Behold my ‘eternal linguine’; Minotaur flesh makes for a perfect replacement of veal. The vicious chimera tastes like a mix of pork and deer, all with the tenderness of a stillborn calf. These meatballs are stuffed with the same linguine and meatballs, but dramatically smaller, all the way down. I promise it will be the best pasta you will ever ingest.”
“Should this even exist?” I ask worriedly.
“Does romanesco broccoli exist?” Sem replies firmly.
While the second course is more akin to comfort food, evoking restaurants of a slightly lower class, it is indeed the best pasta I have ever experienced. The texture and flavor of the dish is incredibly intricate as it was, exactly as promised, the same thing all the way down. Unlike mundane pasta sauce, the gravy imparted a warm sensation to the body, not unlike the feeling of sunlight, but inside the body instead of on skin. The infinite succession of both flavor and texture felt like a million lifetimes of gastronomical bliss condensed into a few fleeting moments.
“The interesting part is you will never be able to finish digesting it, since its contents are infinite. Thus you will benefit from its warmth and comfort forever.” Sem beams proudly.
“you are a true culinary god, Sem.” I exclaim.
On queue, our goblin waiter returns to our table as I have my final bite of linguine. It lifts the domed lid covering the third course, revealing a dainty cylinder of thin vegetable slices. While it is obviously ratatouille of some sort, the vegetables are unrecognizable and it exudes a rustic but delectable aroma.
“The next dish is a faithful recreation of ratatouille I served to the All Father himself, during his excursion to Brittany in the eighteenth hundreds, replete with an assortment of seasonal vegetables, sourced from the gardens of demeter. Bathed in a mirepoix of solar tomato and Onion Mandrake, it is roasted on low fire from dawn. I present to you Ratatouille A la Asgarde.” Sem explains excitedly.
For the next few hours I consumed a dozen more dishes, all of which were prepared from supernatural ingredients. The dishes ranged from relatively mundane but delicious specimens like Karkinos Chowder, to decadent pleasures like Satyr Bourguignon (apparently satyrs have around the same intelligence as pigs, yet can speak.)
Following desert, which consisted of miniature white chocolate moose which bled strawberry syrup when injured, Sem informed me of his request.
“Share your experience with other humans so they may come”.
Whatever malice may have been in those words was lost to me. As I stepped out of Sem’s restaurant I found myself in a field just outside the suburbs. The sun reached its late morning perch and it was as if I had a bad trip in the middle of a field. However when I reached into my purse I felt a glossy card, it was Sem’s card.