The crowd could only be seen through the windows, inside it was an empty husk of a fast food joint where every surface was covered in a thin layer of dust and grease. It was like the outside was connected to another shop entirely, one in a place full of normalcy and casual conversations.
The first steps inside are by far the worst, they are the ones that jolt you from your expectations as you look around to see nothing and no-one but the flickering lights and barren tables. Once the initial worry wears off and curiosity sets in you find yourself peering around every corner, wary but unconcerned. If there was anybody here they already knew you were there too.
The brave ones jump over the counter and slink through the kitchens, half looking for staff and half looking for food. They find neither at first glance. Nobody in that place walks out in the open, they all hide beneath the counters and inside the cupboards where the fluorescent lights can't see them and the cooks can't smell them.
The brave ones never come back, not like all the others who run for the doors as soon as they see the first flicker of movement from the corners of their eyes. Something in the hindbrain knows they are in danger, even if it doesn't know from what.
Outside it still looks like a normal joint and the ones who wander inside can be seen from the windows, ordering their food and making casual conversation while they wait for it to be prepared. They come back out with a bag full of food they won't touch and a new number in their phone connecting them back to that place.
The first steps inside are by far the worst, they are the ones that jolt you from your expectations as you look around to see nothing and no-one but the flickering lights and barren tables. Once the initial worry wears off and curiosity sets in you find yourself peering around every corner, wary but unconcerned. If there was anybody here they already knew you were there too.
The brave ones jump over the counter and slink through the kitchens, half looking for staff and half looking for food. They find neither at first glance. Nobody in that place walks out in the open, they all hide beneath the counters and inside the cupboards where the fluorescent lights can't see them and the cooks can't smell them.
The brave ones never come back, not like all the others who run for the doors as soon as they see the first flicker of movement from the corners of their eyes. Something in the hindbrain knows they are in danger, even if it doesn't know from what.
Outside it still looks like a normal joint and the ones who wander inside can be seen from the windows, ordering their food and making casual conversation while they wait for it to be prepared. They come back out with a bag full of food they won't touch and a new number in their phone connecting them back to that place.
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