#slenderverse wafflehouse

[operatorsdiner]

Dante Martinez

Lead line cook that isn't the lead line cook

+ Nonbinary trans masc (He/They/It)

+ Takes on managerial duties but isn't a manager

+ Youngest worker; 21 currently

+ Culinary student

+ Doesn't drink alcohol but definitely smokes both cigarettes and weed

+ Is a purple belt in jujitsu but doesn't fight unless necessary

+ Silent BPD

+ Most reliable employee even if they have an attitude all the time

[operatorsdiner]

Baylen Lambert

The manager that doesn't nearly get paid enough

+ He/She/They pronouns

+ 22 years old, and a Pisces.

+ Is only ever called upon when either customers are too big of dicks, or a fight is taking place.

+ Takes no shit from anyone and will resort to forcibly removing customers from the store. Or beating them.

+ Any customer that catches an attitude with their coworkers will find that Baylen has added an "asshole gratuity" charge to their bill.

+ Doesn't have a life outside of working, and isn't particularly friends with anyone - other than maybe Dante.

+ Carries a gun on them.

[operatorsdiner]

Cigarettes & Cryptic Neighbors: Entry 4

Dante’s phone buzzed and lit up with a text notification from Adrian. “Hey, could you come in for like an hour and clean the walk-in fridge? Some big ass thing tore it up and Baylen is tweaking hard.” Dante looked down at the text as he used his towel to pat his hair dry. His face twisted into a frown as he picked up the phone to try and come up with even an inkling of an idea how to respond to such a request but before he could even type the words he wanted, Enzo had beaten him to it. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dante looked at the screen and shrugged as he closed the phone and continued on with his night. He was used to hell shitting on his job when he was there so the idea of things going wrong while he was gone didn't bother him. It was essentially a part of the job description that Waffle House is its own circle of hell nestled oh so graciously between greed and wrath; His own personal inferno.  He opened his bathroom door and gracefully tossed his phone on his bed, choosing to focus on his recovery for his own health. Dante coughed harshly into his elbow and used his fist to lightly pound on his chest in hopes of migrating the clinging mucus coating his insides. The shower was meant to loosen up the sickening flem inside him and ease the migraine that brought him to his knees in agonizing pain in class today. His head chef sent him home from his pastry course after he fell over an open oven door from his vision spotting. Dante pressed his hands tightly to his face as he stumbled over to his bed and allowed himself to let gravity pull him down to his mattress. With his head throbbing he could do nothing but lay on his stomach with a pillow over his head as he shook in pain. This wasn't the first time he had had migraines but it had been over 15 years since he'd last had a migraine in all honesty; besides his cigarette every two days he was the pinnacle of health. He never drank alcohol, never took damaging drugs in high school, hell he was even a purple belt in jujitsu so the resurgence of one of the worst pains in his life not only has him annoyed but also a bit worried for his health. He had already called earlier in the day to schedule an appointment to not only check up on his health but possibly get his old prescription back for his migraine medication. For now, all Dante could do was lay in bed in agony as his brain scraped against his frontalis begging to be free. He continued to shake, almost fainting from the pain when it started to die down and he finally let his aching muscles relax from being clenched and tensed from the agony his skull decided to bestow upon him. He let out a pained groan as he removed the pillow from over his head and sat up on his mattress. Moving his duvet to the side he grabbed his phone and flinched as the bright screen invaded his senses. 

Soon his eyes adjusted to the screen as he checked his notifications. 50 unread messages. Lovely. He clicked on the work group chat and scrolled up past the wall of sarcastic memes to see what he missed. In the texts Adrian and Enzo bickered back and forth about how there should be no reason why they should be contacting either Enzo or Dante after they called off of work for very serious health issues, especially considering the fact they never call off work. Adrian could only counter by saying no one else wanted to handle it since the incident happened in the walk-in fridge, and Baylen only trusted Enzo or Dante to clean in there normally.  Enzo thankfully stood their ground for the both of them and told Adrian to either handle it themself or Enzo would come in to handle it in a very unprofessional manner. Scrolling through the rest of the chat was just the other night shift crew obviously fucking around and not cleaning the store. Normally on shift, Dante has to play manager and tell people 4 years older than him to do their job so the day shift does not harass them, but the one day he's gone he could already see the stupid yellow managerial note taped to the night shift desk bitching about how filthy it was when they opened. They always found something to bitch about though; ironic considering they never cleaned in preparation for the night crew and often left large messes for hours on end for the night shift to clean. Dante rolled his eyes as he stood up to grab his uniform to head to work. Might as well be a team player since Baylen was already having a bad night. As he pulled on his black jeans his phone came to life once more grabbing his attention at hand. Tilting his head at an angle to read the message from his beloved manager, Baylen, he let out a sigh of relief as he opened the chat. 

“I‘ll deal with the walk-in, I was the one who fired rounds into it anyway.” Dante’s face scrunched with a look that was a mix of concern, confusion, and disappointment. “You know what. Not even going to question it. You do you.” The message was left on seen as Dante continued to get dressed to head out for the night. The West Virginia fall was not kind with its temperatures, especially in the hilly woods that Dante called his home. Dante laced up his boots and stood tall as he left his bedroom, heading straight for the coat rack to grab his heaviest jacket. His dad’s old beat-up carhartt jacket was the best thing he had around to keep him warm and comfortable in the chilling air. Checking his pockets for his lighter and cigarettes, he slid the chain of his lock to the left and unlocked his door making sure to grab his keys on the way out. Once in the hall of his apartment, he turned around quickly pulling on the door handle harshly as he stuck his key into the knob to lock the door behind him. “You didn’t knock on my door today,” a monotone voice said from behind him. Dante nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around at breakneck speed to see who was behind him. Standing behind Dante with a shit-eating grin was his neighbor and fellow college classmate, Cody. Dante held his hand to his chest as he let out a sigh of relief before slapping Cody's arm harshly. “You scared me you fucking dickhead,” he grumbled as he pulled his key out of the door handle. Cody let out a mischievous chuckle and gave Dante a lopsided grin. “You know me. Silent but deadly.” Dante snickered as he turned and headed down the hallway with Cody trailing behind. They both headed down the stairs of their apartment building and out of the back exit to an alleyway behind the building. The alleyway wasn't the ideal spot to stand around at, as it held the dumpsters and feral animals of the town. More often than not week old trash and moldy cardboard littered the concrete floor with the smell of cat piss wafting over for added ambiance, but to Dante, it didn't matter as he had gone nose blind to it years ago when he had moved in. Dante wasted no time heading over to the metal stairs that connected to the building and taking his seat. Pulling out his pack of newports, he grabbed one and placed it between his lips as he cuffed his hand in front of his face, bringing the lighter up to the end of it. Once the tip glowed a burnt ember orange, he took a long drag and then held it in, relishing in the warmth and slight burning it brought to his lungs. He exhaled as a familiar tingle spread across his body, “God I've needed a hit of nicotine all day, you have no idea,” Dante chuckled gruffly as he looked up at Cody who was pulling out his own pack. Cody smiled while shaking his head as he pulled out his desired cigarette and felt around his pockets. “Forgot my lighter again. You mind?” Cody questioned as he placed it delicately between his lips. Dante snickered and rolled his eyes at Cody's carelessness. 

“When do I ever mind?” Dante retorted as he placed the cigarette back in his mouth. Cody smiled as he leaned down and touched the tip of his cigarette against Dante’s. Cody's bright green eyes focused on the cancer sticks between them, but Dante couldn't help but let his eyes drift to admire the man in front of him. They had been neighbors for 3 years since Dante had turned 18 and moved to the dingy apartment building in hopes of starting his young adult life on the right foot. Cody was the first to introduce himself as he was in the exact same boat as Dante. Being the only other person close in age to Dante at 23, the two got along right away as not only were they neighbors but were also students of the same campus. While Dante was in the culinary arts program Cody was in the pathology program. Not only was Cody extremely educated he was also very pretty to Dante. Pale skin littered with freckles and beauty marks, hands constantly moisturized with neatly cut nails, a gentle face with nice cheekbones, glasses that brought attention to his strong eye shape, and wavy brown hair that just suited him nicely. Dante always admired him for his ambitions and his boyish charms. He only came back to the present moment as Cody pulled back and took a long drag of his smoke. “I was on my way over to the Waffle House to see you when you were walking out of your apartment. Didn’t you have work today?”  He asked, looking down at the man in front of him on the steps. Dante shrugged. “Had a migraine in class. Called off work. Set up a doctor's appointment as well because I haven't had migraines like that since I moved here from Michigan.” Cody hummed in acknowledgment as he took another hit. “Shame, I was hoping you'd bring me the leftovers of today's class assignment.” Dante laughed dryly and smiled as he shook his head. “I'm not your personal chef, you know. I work at a Waffle House for christ’s sake.” He sucked on his cancer stick and rubbed his boot on the ground. Pulling out his phone he checked the time and checked his messages. A few from the night shift’s group chat bullshitting around again, and a few from Enzo talking about their migraine finally fading away. Cody moved closer, leaning over Dante to spy on his phone. 

Finding nothing of interest from his quick glance, Cody leaned away and continued to smoke. “Hey, just so you know, I’m having friends from out of town come over a lot in the next few weeks, so if you hear banging or something coming from my apartment you know why,” Cody said off-handedly and shrugged. Dante rested his elbows on the steps behind him while he stretched out his legs in front of him, “As long as you aren’t having loud sex and your friends don’t fuck with my door we’re cool. You know how bad I get when I'm paranoid.” Cody's face scrunched up in disgust at the mention of sex but nodded at Dante’s requests, “Sounds fair to me. You don’t bother my friends and they won't bother you.” Cody took one last drag before dropping his cigarette onto the wet concrete and snuffing it out with a twist of his converse. “Well, I have a path assignment due by Thursday. I'll stop by your job tomorrow to grab my usual so I can fuel up to study. I’m gonna bring my friend along with me though. I'm sure you'll love them. They're a bit of a weirdo like you.” Dante’s head snapped in Cody’s direction with a stern glare. “You're cruel and unusual for that but you're not wrong. Just a dickhead.” Cody laughed as he headed to the back door and held it open. Looking back at Dante he grinned and chuckled. He rested his temple against the door as he looked at the boy on the stairs. “You know you love me. Anyways, don't stay out here too long, your health is already all sorts of fucked and the last thing you need is a cold right now. I'll see you around, Dante.” With that, he stepped inside, letting the metal door softly shut behind him. Dante smiled softly at where Cody once stood as he finished his cigarette. Standing up, he tossed the butt to the floor, stomping it out before turning and heading towards the door.  As his hand touched the door handle, a shooting pain spread across his body and dark spots flooded his vision as another migraine ensued. Dante used the door to brace his body and he opened it and stumbled inside, using the wall to hold him up. Squeezing his eyes shut until wet hot tears of pain streamed down his face, he used his sense of touch to lead himself up the stairs and back to his apartment. Making his way to his door, he reached into his pocket, yanking out his keys and slamming them into the keyhole with one go. He quickly twisted the keys and stepped inside, closing the door behind him as gently as possible as he turned around. Locking both locks he threw his keys into a bowl. He didn't have the energy to even go to his room as he collapsed on the couch, curling up into a tight ball to try and stop the pain. He shook and cried silently as his cranium begged for a hole to be put in it. He felt his phone buzz again as he laid there pathetically. Grabbing it quickly, he opened up the messenger to see a text from Baylen. “Hey, dress nice tomorrow. Your polaroid on the staff board has disappeared so we're gonna have to retake it. Hope you feel better.”

[operatorsdiner]

The Night Shift: Entry 1.

It wasn't new for Alex to “open” but it was new having to get carpooled with the youngest member of their team. Dante’s pickup truck was surprisingly clean inside and even had accommodations for the passenger seat such as a little head pillow and some hand wipes. He sat in the driver's seat with his left hand on the wheel and the other turning the window crank with a cigarette placed between his lips. “You don't mind if I smoke right now, right?” He mumbled glancing over at Alex. For being a dickhead line cook, he was pretty polite to his coworkers off the clock. “It’s a little early, isn’t it?” Alex yawned as they glanced at the red blinking clock on the radio, 12:45 am with the top line of the five not appearing at all. Dante hummed as he removed the cigarette from his lips as he cranked the window back up. “Yeah, you’re right. My bad.” He shrugged as he slipped a cassette into the radio. Alex gave a nod of acknowledgment as they turned their head to look out the window. The trees of the forest that surrounded the road made it feel like they were driving in a circle with the moonlight peeking through the treetops mocking them. 

The sound of the Depeche Mode fills the car acting as background noise to the ride.  “Thanks for giving me a ride by the way. You were the last person I wanted to contact but I knew you were the most reliable.” The corner of Dante’s lips curled up a bit but ultimately kept his normal bitch face. “No worries. My shift isn’t till 12 so I have time to get some sleep.” He grumbled as he readjusted his glass. Alex rested their forehead against the cold glass as they kept their eyes outside. Of course, the one day they're already running late for work is the day their car breaks down. They already knew Dante would be up as he would have just gotten out of his last class for the semester of culinary school. Alex continued to stare out the window for the rest of the time until the truck took a slight right turn and pulled into the parking lot of their job. A fucking Waffle house. Not where they ever imagined someone like them working but life is a cruel prankster and it unfortunately made Alex its jester. Dante parked in front of the building and turned to Alex with an expecting look. Alex looked forward and crumbled in despair as they rubbed their faces in their hands. “Baylen is going to fucking chew me out,” they groaned in agony. Dante hummed and pulled out a cigarette as he opened the driver-side door with a loud creak. He slammed the door behind him as he walked over to the passenger side door and opened it for Alex. “I'll take Baylen's wrath for you, just go get your apron,” Alex sighed in defeat as they climbed out of the car and headed towards the building. 

The familiar ring of the front door grabbed the staff's attention as Alex entered with Dante trailing behind close with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. Familiar brown hair caused Alex's stomach to sink into their ass. Baylen had taken up the mantle of head chef due to Alex's tardiness. Baylen's head turned to greet the pair. “Hi, welcome to Waffle House take a se- YOU!” Baylen yelled as they realized who had entered the establishment. Thank god the restaurant was mostly empty. Alex visibly shrunk as Baylen raised their voice. Before Alex could respond Dante stepped in front of Alex to play mediator. “Heyyy, I did call. Why didn't you pick it up? Alex's car was ass so I had to drive ‘em,” He said with a grin. His slightly yellowed teeth seemed to have a sparkle to them as he charmed Baylen. Baylen frowned as they looked over Dante’s shoulder and glared at Alex. “Must have not heard the ring,” They grumbled as they turned around to continue working on the grill. Alex let out a sigh of relief as they walked past Dante and towards the back area to retrieve their apron. It seemed they were alone in the back as Enzo and Vesper worked on dishes together while making not-so-very-small talk. They both greeted Alex with a smile as they rushed to grab their apron. Vesper leaned against the sink and looked at the clock on the wall, “Wow an hour and fifteen minutes late? Who drove you this time since Adrian is already here?” They grin mischievously. Alex groaned as they rushed over to the clock-in station and punched in their card. “Dante,” They said as they tied their apron and rushed back to the front. Enzo peaked over the corner to the main seating area. “Oh shit, it is Dante.” He shook his arms off to remove the water and suds. Using his apron he walked around the counter and greeted Dante. Dante greeted Enzo with a smile as they did their normal greeting. Alex quickly walked over to the grill and politely took their spatula from Baylen as they immediately started cooking.

Baylen sighed and patted Alex's back as they began cooking. “It's not your fault. Just call next time,” Baylen said with a small smile as they walked away to begin wrapping silverware. “If it makes you feel better we've been pretty empty tonight. That's a pick-up order I was working on. Everyone is just getting paid to stand around tonight.” Baylen turned their attention to Dante. “Wanna switch shifts and just clock in now so you don't have to work with the day shift weirdos?” Dante lulled his head in Baylen’s direction then glanced at the clock. “Pfft sure why not? Just text the morning shift lead.” Baylen nodded as they wrote on a clipboard and looked up. “WREN AND ADRIAN WHEN I COME BACK THERE BETTER BE AT LEAST 3 ROLLS OF SILVERWARE DONE!” Baylen shouted as they turned and headed to the back room.

Alex sighed and hung their shoulders as they packaged the food for the order. 

Just another night on the job.

[operatorsdiner]

It Does in Fact Bite: Entry 3.

The radio chatter hummed along inside the Subaru being driven, cool rain pelting against the windshield as Baylen drove toward the outskirts of the city. His nametag felt glaringly obvious as the seatbelt pressed the uncomfortable plastic into his chest, one would’ve thought that after 5 years of working at the restaurant, he would just keep the badge in the managerial office. That would be an obvious solution though, and little irritations like this reminded Baylen that he was human and not some soulless being from all the time he’d spent in liminal spaces. 

The night sky was darkening overhead, almost already at its deepest depths. It was autumn after all which meant the night air was brisk and night fell quickly over the hushed city. Baylen’s mind wandered elsewhere as he drove, allowing for muscle memory to take control as he drove through the winding suburban streets, eventually houses and gas stations became more and more sparse - before eventually it was just a wheat field and trees that surrounded the road on the edge of the city line. The distance between his store and the nearest gas station was a well-known annoyance, especially after the time he forgot to get gas before work when he was a novice employee and ended up stranded in the parking lot of their work at the end of the shift. Luckily for Baylen, it was nine in the morning, so they didn’t have to walk through the dark fields or forested areas to a gas station in complete darkness. Four hours and one comically large jerry-can later, Baylen was able to finally go home. 

His mind flashed through the time spent at the restaurant he currently managed; the crews that had come and gone, the amount of customers Baylen had actually brawled, and the multiple times people had attempted to rob the store at gunpoint. Good times. Baylen’s mind finally came to a focus as they tuned into the radio station playing, National Public Radio was a staple inside his vehicle, he loved hearing the local historians and scientists who spoke impassioned about their respective careers. Tonight's broadcast was different however, tonight's broadcast spoke of crimes and unheard-of horrors ravaging through their small city. The city was composed of around 17,000 people according to the last census - not that Baylen really believed that considering he only ever saw the same people whenever he went out. The young manager was not oblivious to the events occurring around him, of course, he’d taken note of the murders and kidnappings that became more and more prominent at the same time as… odd customers becoming regulars. The host of the news station urged caution and staying close to trusted others in this worrisome time in between bouts of news articles. 

Family of 6 found murdered in their beds, all of their faces disfigured.

Young woman finds photos of herself through her windows plastered to her front door.

Convenience store overnight workers found killed in a frenzy. 

The list of atrocities continued further, but Baylen turned away from them as his car finally pulled into the lot of the 24-hour diner he’d grown so accustomed to. The parking lot lights flickered at different frequencies, some flickered rapidly whilst others went in slow methodical blinks. Baylen spent many hours seeking out a pattern in the poorly maintained lights. They sighed as they looked inside the large glass windows and only briefly thought, ‘Damn this place really is like a fishbowl.’ As he watched the group of employees inside laugh and gossip at a booth as they rolled silverware. It was only three of them; the host, the head cook, and a server.  Baylen was covering for the other parts of the floor since both Dante and Enzo had caught some freak flu. Those two never got sick, so Baylen didn’t think twice about coming in for them.

Baylen sighed as he unbuckled himself, grabbed the backpack that sat slumped in the passenger seat, and headed inside the building. Baylen never really cared about parking away from the front door, he’s learned over time that being able to see your car is important in this kind of establishment. It was only a slight bonus that he didn’t have to be out in the chilled air for long. The small bell above the door chimed as he walked through the front entrance, and he prepared himself with a small smile and a wave as the three present gave their own variations of greetings.

Adrian Jones, the host of the establishment, was ever polite with their wave to their manager. They barely lifted their fingers as they folded the napkins around the utensils, and it was then that Baylen noticed Adrian was the only one rolling the silverware. It wasn’t surprising. Adrian’s deep black hair hung in waves that covered a portion of their face, obscuring it from the world. Whatever had been said most recently left a small mischievous smirk across their lips - Baylen did not need, nor want to know what led to that expression. 

Alex Johnson, the head cook, only gave a brief nod of acknowledgment as they kept their head down, quietly filling out what seemed to be the food order forms. Their other fingers tapped musical patterns into the cheap tabletop. Their long hair blocked all view of their face and obscured most of the paper they worked on. Baylen didn’t look long, he knew that prolonged ‘eye contact’ was something that unnerved them. 

Then finally, Wren Blight, one of two servers on the overnight staff sat lounging in the booth, crumpled in a way that most certainly wouldn’t be comfortable to Baylen - with one arm hanging across the back, the other holding up their phone as they doom scrolled through social media apps, with their legs kicked up on the table, ankles crossed. Their deep purple hair was cropped into a stylized mullet, framing the scars that went across their eyes. They gave a charismatic grin and waved to the manager as he entered, saying a quick, “Sup, boss?”

Baylen didn’t pay the crew much mind as he walked over to the clock-in station next to his office, tossing his backpack haphazardly toward the desks inside. Instead of turning around back towards his coworkers and the dining room, they pivoted on their feet to follow the hall down to the dish pit and walk-in cooler. Enzo had texted the manager a heads up that something had gotten into the freezers, and that it sounded large. Baylen knew that nothing could have gotten in without wanting to be there, but he didn’t think whatever got in there knew that the door locked from the outside upon shutting. 

It was only when he came to a stop in front of the tall freezer doors that he realized his heartbeat was pounding heavily in his chest, so intensely to the point that he could feel it in his fingertips. Though none of the anxiety he felt was shown across her face. She could not allow that fear to disturb anyone. Thus, they would deal with this overwhelming dread and whatever lurked inside the freezer alone. Baylen could hear it still - Enzo was right when they said the creature sounded almost akin to nails upon a chalkboard as it dug the tips of its appendages into the metal barrier. That metal was intended to keep in the cold and protect the food from within; Baylen supposed protecting the ‘food’ outside of the walk-in was its more pertinent duty now. The rotting fluorescent light cascaded shades of flickering yellows and blues across the room, one flickering panel stood out like a spotlight over the cold metallic door.

Baylen’s hand reached behind himself, wrapping his hand around the grip of the gun that had remained neatly tucked into the back of their dress pants. A glock 42 would not necessarily have been their first choice in going at a cryptid, but it was the only gun the manager owned. Her slender fingers gently traced down to the magazine, triple-checking that it was secure, before finally bracing himself for the inevitable. He drew his pistol, turned off the safety, and held it firmly in one hand at first - in an ideal situation he’d have someone else open the door, but his staff did not get paid nearly enough for this. 

They composed themselves with one final deep breath, before reaching out with his free hand and tugging open the cooler door abruptly. Nothing. Nothing could have prepared Baylen for the carnage inside; the deep gauges taken out of the metal walls, the industrial shelves deep rooted from their bolts that once attached them to the floor, the food in shreds littering the floor… The pale white creature that scuttled across the floor before launching itself up the back wall, holding itself the conjunction of the wall and ceiling. Its face was sunken in, devoid of most features - other than its eyes, or what could only be compared to eyeballs. The pitch black holes where the sockets sat on a regular face were accentuated by white irises, dilated, crazed. Ready. Like a knife slicing through butter, its long jagged fingers launched into the ceiling - digging all the way down to the knuckles as it reared back. The fiendish creature began to hunch on its legs, like a track runner about to do a long jump.

Baylen could barely prepare himself as it reared back, stumbling back on his heels - one, two, maybe three steps, he wasn’t sure at this point. He raised the gun, shaking in his hands, but he did not hesitate in pulling the trigger. 

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The creature screamed, screeching an ear-piercing roar as it launched forwards, feet and hands pummeling the floor as it ran towards them. Baylen didn’t stop. He had five more bullets, and he counted on each of them.

BANG. BANG.

The sound of the gunshots echoed off the metal pots and pans that littered the pit, Baylen’s arms were already aching as he stumbled back, the edge of his spine slamming into the corner of the wall that protruded out at the end of the hallway. 

The creature stumbled, black ooze splattering with every shot that landed. Baylen has never been more grateful for the fact that he grew up on the streets with a pistol in hand. 

BANG.

Another shot and the thing crawling the floor only five feet away turned towards the back exit, charging in any direction but towards the thing that hurt it. Baylen didn’t care, as he continued to fire the last two shots.

BANG. BANG.

The creature’s body reverberated as those landed, guttural growls gurgling out of its mouth. Feet over hands stumbling across the floor, before gaining speed and barreling out the back door. The sounds of its cries and footfall grew quieter and quieter, as the back door swung on its hinges. Baylen’s hand that held the gun lowered to his side, the magazine now empty the floor and walls covered in black ink-like splatters, bullet casings surrounded his once pristine oxford shoes. 

As silence encased the room for just a moment before the others ran to the back, Baylen turned to the empty dish sink and vomited.

[operatorsdiner]

Enzo Maragos

This busser thinks everything’s normal, and nothing is wrong. (They’re lying.)

+ They/He pronouns

+ 24 years old

+ Social anxiety until they need to throw the fuck down- because now they have something to channel that anxiety into.

+Generally stays quiet and does his own thing. 

+They will leave you on read if they don’t know how to answer.

+Will in fact be on the verge of a breakdown if a customer raises their voice at him.

+Keeps a metal bat hidden in the dish pit.

+Ambiguously siblings with Vesper.

+Smokes Marlboros and will diss you (lovingly) if you smoke anything else.

[operatorsdiner]

A full house: Entry 7

Wren sat silently in the farthest booth, staring out the window, waiting for Dante to bring them their order. The rain methodically thrummed against the roof of the building only adding to the boring atmosphere of the restaurant tonight. A sigh left Wren's throat as the soft clacking of a plate on the table in front of them drew their attention away from the outside world. “Order up,” Dante hummed as he wiped his hand on his apron. “Hawaiian roll french toast with honey glaze.” He smiled proudly. Wren's gaze turned to the plate in front of them staring down at the 5-star gourmet food placed before them. Sitting up straight they took the fork out of their napkin and began to dig in. Dante turned; leaving Wren to enjoy their 30 as he went back to share his creation with the others. Wren greedily dug into the food in front of them as they savored the sweet taste on their tongue. It wasn't often that the store was empty enough to allow Dante to work on his culinary skills, but when the store has been empty since 12 AM it's hard not to try and concoct something. Wren enjoyed any food placed in front of them though, not just Dante’s cooking. Compared to the prison food they consumed for 2 years, Dante’s food was like heaven on earth. Prison food wasn't too bad, it was filling; however, so was dirt, and the dirt was preferable. Getting caught shoplifting sucked and snubbed any job opportunity they had of getting a high position in any industry. Being stuck in a dead-end job with coworkers who equally hate their job brought them some solace though, as it meant they were not alone in this feeling of emptiness. Wren continued to eat as they pulled out their phone and began scrolling as they enjoyed their break. They had always done this when work was too slow and even when work was busy. The only time they weren't on their phone and would step in to help was when everyone else was struggling to do their job, which was always a complaint that they heard from everyone else.

Truthfully Wren didn't care what the others had to say about their behavior, because anything that they said could easily be proven as hypocritical. Dante and Enzo were chronic smokers and constantly took breaks in order to satisfy that craving, Alex was a mute and would get overwhelmed too easily by the basic dinner rush despite being the head cook, and Baylen was just Baylen. “Who are they to judge when they have their own reasons to abandon this sinking ship?” they pondered to themself as they continued to scroll. While Wren hated their coworkers' attitudes about their lack of enthusiasm for their job, they did admire their consistency; Dante wearing his evil eye and mixed metal jewelry, Enzo's dry humor, Baylen’s laid-back behavior, Alex's anxiety going full circle to confidence, Adrian's great customer service, and Vesper's ability to match the energy of customers. It was something that Wren could at least say was one positive of working here. The sounds of praise from Adrian and Enzo as Dante took their empty plates were nothing but background noise to Wren as they plugged their earbuds in to have their own personal bubble once more. 

Enzo looked at the clock and signalled to Dante to follow him. Leaning into the office, Enzo whistled to Alex and Baylen to grab their attention, “It's dead as fuck in here. Dante cooked up some recipe he’s working on in school if you want any, but we're gonna head to the back to have a smoke break.” He hummed as he leaned out again, not waiting for a response. Alex and Baylen looked at each other once more before Baylen raised his hands to do quotations, “‘Smoke break’, yeah sure.” He snorted sarcastically as he swivelled his chair back around to face his monitors. Alex chuckled as he swivelled back in his own chair. “I’m telling you, dude, either A) they’re secretly dating or B) they were tragic lovers in a past life.” Baylen hummed in response. “Maybe, or maybe they're just fucking gay but not gay for each other,” Alex grunted as he wrote the schedule for the next week. “Well, you know the deal. 20 dollars will be earned eventually.” 

Outside of the restaurant, Dante held the door for Enzo as they stepped out, pulling out their cigarette of choice, and placing it between their lips. Dante pulled out his zippo and waved Enzo closer as he held up his hand to prevent the flame from going out. They stood close until the tips of their cigarettes glowed crimson, soon pulling away. Dante squatted down to the concrete as Enzo stood next to him leaning against the brick wall behind him. “T’nights so fucking dead, dude,” Enzo grumbled as they took a drag and pulled it from their lips, ashing it to the floor. Dante hummed and exhaled his own disgusting gust of cancer while fiddling with his evil eye necklace. “I’d rather have a dead night than a full house. You know our pay is based on the entire day, so if we didn’t make shit one night it’ll be covered by the day shift.” Enzo snorted and shook their head. “God you're terrible for thinking that way, but I love it when you're right.” He smiled as he took another hit. They continued to chat and smoke, not caring about their surroundings as they enjoyed their time together, their conversation having no care until Dante was reminded of something. “Hey dude, I've been meaning to ask this, but do you know what happened to the freezer? No one really gave me a straight answer.” Dante glanced up to Enzo, hoping for the most deadpan dickhead they knew to finally give him some answer. Enzo stared straight ahead as his face scrunched in confusion; only then did they both realize how quiet their surroundings had become. “Well uh…” Enzo began dropping his arm holding the cigarette to their side. “I actually don’t kn-” Snap. Both their heads snap straight forward, staring at the woods ahead of them. The back of the building always unnerved the night crew. At night the only light there was the one at the back door, and it illuminated only the asphalt before the woods. The inky black of the unknown lurked not even 12 feet away, and it made Enzo queasy. There had always been rumors about those woods since he was a kid; a tall man that sent people mad and drove them to kill, a pale creature that looked human but would rip a man limb from limb with inhuman strength, and a demon made of so many eyes one would see the abominations of the earth reflected in them. All of them were just old folk tales, of course, made to keep kids out of the woods and away from the wildlife that could kill them. Enzo knew that so why were they frozen in anticipation? Why was their heart racing as they stared ahead? Dante was frozen in the same way. They were both grown adults, yet being told the same folk tales from a young age brought them the same terror. Snap. Dante scrambled on the ground and to their feet, moving close to Enzo while reaching into their back pocket to pull out their knife. Their hearts slammed in sync as they waited for something. The snapping of twigs seemed to get closer as Dante pulled out their knife and held it in their fist. The sounds grew closer and more rapid as he took a stance in front of Enzo, preparing for the worst. His heart raced as the noise came straight towards them as Dante sucked in a breath and took a step forward, ready to make the first and final blow. The sound stopped quickly as a small gray rabbit stepped into the light of the building. Dante and Enzo stared at the creature as it sat on its hind legs, cleaning its face before looking up at the two humans who seemed as if they were going to explode. Enzo let out a sigh of relief and placed their hands on their knees as they tried to regain their composure. Dante huffed as he began to chuckle and put away his knife, “Man, I think that's the hardest we've tweaked ever.”

“Hello my-” Dante and Enzo screamed and jumped into each other's arms as someone rounded the corner. The man also jumped back at the sudden reaction and shouted in surprise as well. After a pause, Dante lunged at the man, slapping his arm repeatedly and yelling profanities at him in Spanish. The man only laughed and used his shoulder to defend himself. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I know, I'm sorry!” he laughed as he took the beating like it was nothing. Enzo sighed and held a hand to their chest, feeling their heart thumping at a mile a minute. “Jesus Christ, Brian, you scared the shit out of us.” He sighed as Dante continued to slap Brian. Brian Thomas, another regular of the night shift, was one of the beloved customers amongst the crew and was a part of a little trio that frequented the diner at oddball hours of the night. He smiled a crooked gap-toothed smile at Enzo that could almost melt his bitchy, stone-cold heart. Almost. Dante finally stopped slapping Brian's arm and leaned into his chest, groaning loudly. Brian laughed as he wrapped his arms around Dante and rocked him back and forth“. Rough night?” he inquired as he smiled again. “Dead night.” Dante muffled through Brian's chest. “Ahh makes sense. You cancer-filled crusaders at least making it through?” He squeezed Dante. Enzo shrugged. “Yeah, to the best. Are the T’s with you?” Brian laughed and finally let go of Dante. “Tim’s inside giving Alex a panic attack and Toby’s off with friends. Before you ask, we're also shocked that he has friends,” he chuckled. Enzo nodded; straightening out his uniform and pulling open the backdoor. “Well, we’ll be in to serve you now. See you inside, Mr. Thomas.” Brian laughed as he nodded, turning the corner and disappearing into the night again. Dante and Enzo stepped back in and headed to their station to continue their jobs.

Wren leaned back with their phone in hand, occasionally looking up to peer at Alex on the verge of panic as they listened to Tim’s order. While Alex wrote on the notepad, Dante came up behind them and placed a gentle hand on their shoulder before taking the notepad out of their hand. Dante said something that couldn’t be heard over Wren's music as he wrote down stuff on his notepad and poured a cup of black coffee for Tim. Wren’s eyes flickered to the door as Brian walked in, sitting down next to Tim at the counter and patting him on the back. Wren grunted at the sight and sunk into their booth to look at their phone once more, drowning out the world around them. Tim and Brian had gotten up from the counter and moved to a table close to the door out of Wren’s line of sight. Wren scrolled through Facebook, observing all the people's life achievements they’d missed while they were in prison. Most things were to be expected, such as people getting married, having a baby, or getting a house; things that just received an eye roll from them. To their annoyance, their ‘30 minute break’ was interrupted once again by the door being slammed open and a figure looming at the threshold. Wren’s face scrunched in irritation as they looked at the man at the door from bottom to top. Beat-up black Adidas shoes that looked like they were about to tear away from the sole at any second, black pants stitched up with scrap fabric and handmade patches of bands Wren couldn't even imagine pronouncing, and a dirty white hoodie with random brown stains around the chest and sleeve. Wren moved on from the man's clothes and looked at his face only to feel all the judgment leave their mind as they recognized the man. He didn't seem to see Wren as he moved from the door to sit down at the counter. Wren ripped their earbuds out as they rushed out of the booth and behind the counter. 

“Dante, I've got this one. You take your break.” Wren promptly demanded as they yanked the notepad out of Dante's hand. Dante’s face twisted in anger as he turned to Wren. “The fuck’s your problem? I’m with a customer!” Dante hissed at Wren. Wren moved and stood in front of the man directly as they pointed toward the back of the building. “Go.” They said firmly as Dante glared back at them. “You’re a fucking asshole tonight,” he replied bluntly. He took the towel out of his apron and smacked it onto the counter before turning away to the manager's office. Wren kept their eyes on Dante until he was fully gone before they looked back at the man. “I thought you still had 5 more years, Jeff,” they said coldly. The man stayed silent for a moment before he leaned in and grinned his extended smile. “I got out on good behavior, Wren. I’m a changed man.” Wren couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down their back as they looked at the man's face again; Jeffery Woods, a serial killer, sat before them again. His curly black hair framed his scared face with patches of baldness from his burns and half his face and neck were rough and patchy from burn scars that covered most of his body. That wasn’t the part that unnerved Wren though- in fact, it gave them a bit of sympathy for Jeff- the thing that really unnerved Wren was the fact that Jeff did it to himself, completely of his own volition. The jagged, healed scars of where he had mutilated his face left the corners of his mouth extended to an uncomfortable degree, and the jagged form of his eyelids from him trying to cut them off made his eyes seem unnervingly wide. The jagged and rough skin always made Wren’s skin crawl when they were in prison together, but Jeff wore it with pride like it was a badge of honor. “You got new piercings I see,” they swallowed dryly as they looked down at the notepad in their hands. Jeff's milky blue eyes glimmered with joy, “Oh, you're the first to notice. Yeah, I got them as soon as I got out.” He pulled back his hair and showed off his ears. “How long have you been out, Jeff?” Wren asked bluntly. Jeff stiffened as his smile dropped and he folded his hands on the counter. “Same as you, Wren. And I'm staying with a few friends who are getting me back into the loop of life.” His grin slowly started to come back. Wren glared at Jeff when in the corner of their eye, they spotted Adrian stepping out of the office and heading over to Wren with an angered expression. Wren quickly leaned towards Jeff and hissed at him. “Whatever you’re up to, you do not bring it here, you hear me? These are good people. You stay the fuck away from my coworkers.” They quickly pulled away and turned to Adrian as he stood in front of them with Dante behind him. “I think Dante has it from here. You and I can roll silverware together,” he stated. Dante gently took the notepad and turned their attention to Jeff. “Don’t worry, Wren and I go way back. Just catching up with a friend.” Jeff grinned his extended, crooked grin at Adrian. Wren glared as they walked away, turning their back to Jeff and following Adrian. “Hey Wren,” Jeff called out. Wren turned around expecting an insult. The shout also caught the attention of Tim and Brian, bringing them out of their conversation. “With my new job, I want you to know I'll be seeing a lot of you and your coworkers around. We're all going to be very well acquainted.” He smirked. Wren’s face heated up and they turned away, rushing to the back to stop themself from flying over the counter and strangling Jeff. Brian and Tim’s eyes stayed glued on Wren as they continued to walk away then flickered over to Dante looking for an answer. Dante looked back at the two men and shrugged as he turned his attention to the man in front of him. “Sorry about that. My name's Dante, what can I get started for you tonight?” Dante placed a mug in front of Jeff and held up the coffee pot offering him some. Jeff curtly nodded at the offer as Dante poured him a cup and then slid two small bowls of disposable cream and sugar packets. 

“So how long have you been working here?” Jeff inquired as he brought the cup of black coffee to his lips. Dante pondered as he turned around to make Brian and Tim’s usual orders. “I’ve been working here since I was 16. So about 6 years on the 13th.” Jeff tilted his head as he rested his hand on his chin watching Dante crack eggs with one hand and cook them on the grill. “The 13th, huh? What's so important about that?” Jeff took another sip. Dante shrugs, “That's my birthday. So that's how I remember how long I’ve been working here.” Jeff hummed as he continued to sit and drink his coffee in silence. Dante continued to cook as Baylen stepped out of the office; turning on the radio as they grabbed the plated food from Dante. 

A town curfew has been set in place due to the recent uprising in missing people and murderers. Curfew is set at 9 o’clock at night and will be held till 5 am; lock all doors and windows as well as set up home security. If you see any suspicious behavior in or around your house, hide in a dark room and call the police. The emergency line will be on 24/7 for anything. If you see something, say something.

Dante turned his attention to the radio with a frown and turned up the volume, listening intently. Jeff hummed as he took another sip of coffee, “That's a shame. I have so much to do at night now that I’m out. That’s going to make things harder.” Dante turned around with a confused look at Jeff as Baylen placed down Tim and Brian's plates. Brian's eyes shot up at Baylen as he stared at them for a while. Tim looked up from his plate to Brian's face before turning his attention to Baylen as well. Tim squints for a second before having an undescribed look. The sound of Dante swearing took away Baylen's attention from the men as they watched him leave the counter and move to the back. As he made his way to the back Enzo moved to the front, giving him a weird look as the two crossed paths. Baylen looked back at the men and sighed. “Sorry about that, is there anything else I can get you?” Brian hummed as he looked up to Baylen, studying them for a moment, before cracking a smile. “How about that hangout I’ve been asking for for months? You can’t keep me waiting forever.” Tim turned his attention to Baylen as well. “Yeah, man. Come out and hang with us during the day for once.” Baylen shrugged and rolled his shoulders back as she looked over in the direction Dante had disappeared to. “Maybe later this week. If you need anything just holler. I have to check on my line cook.” Baylen turned around as they walked to the back to look for Dante. Enzo leaned towards Baylen as they walked by, “His necklace just broke, it's nothing life-threatening but he is kinda frazzled tonight.” Baylen sighed. Normally she wouldn’t think twice about her employees' antics but when Dante was ‘frazzled’ it could mean many things. Baylen headed to the back to find their line cook only to see the area empty with the backdoor cracked open.  Slipping through the crack and observing the surroundings, Baylen found Dante with his back to the door, leaning his head back with his hand against his mouth, seemingly swallowing something. Baylen sighed as they stuffed their hands into their pockets and walked up next to Dante. “You a’right?” Baylen asked as she looked down at Dante, a puzzled expression crossing her face. Dante sighed and scratched his neck as he reached down pulling out his second cigarette of the night, “Yeah, just... My necklace broke and it made me realize I forgot to take my meds and T shot. I can take my shot when I get home but I definitely need to take my other stuff now.” Dante hummed as he lit up the cigarette, taking a filthy hit into his lungs. He craned his neck up to stare at the stars covering the night sky. “You're usually so suspicious. Why aren't you freaking out about your necklace?” Baylen crossed his arms over their chest as they kept their eyes on the shorter man. Dante kept his eyes on the sky as he took another drag. He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his head over to look at the taller one. “Truth be told, I'm trying more to think logically. I get antsy too easily so I can't let my superstitions get the better of me. I've had this necklace for 6 years from my mama. It was only a matter of time before it broke. Plus she sends me one for every holiday, so I can just wear a new one tomorrow night.” Baylen only nodded and looked at the sky with Dante. They both stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few minutes.  

The sound of the back door opening dragged their attention away from the night sky as they turned to see who could have caused the commotion. “Yo,” Wren said bluntly as they stuck their head out of the door. “Brian wants more coffee and I'm on my break.” Dante sighed as they dropped their cigarette to the floor and crushed it with the toe of his boot. He walked to the door and shoved passed Wren. “You've been on your break for the past 2 hours. You're dismissed for the day.” Wren scoffed as they watched Dante walk, turning back to Baylen. “He's not a manager. He can't talk to me like that,” they grunted as Baylen walked past, closing the door behind them. Baylen sighed and blankly looked down at Wren as they voiced their complaints. Wren scowled at Baylen, putting their hands up with attitude as they waited for Baylen to respond. “Hello?! Are you going to say something to him? He can’t talk to me like that.” Wren’s mood soured the longer Baylen sat in silence. Baylen looked down and pinched the bridge of their nose as they took a very grounding deep breath. Baylen’s eyes shifted to Wren’s face, watching as they continued to boil in rage. Baylen looked them up and down one more time. “I don’t have the energy or time for this Wren. You’re dismissed,” They stated, before turning and walking away. Wren scoffed and stomped their feet as they turned toward the coat rack, yanking their jacket off. They swore under their breath and huffed as they turned around one last time, watching Dante as he passed by, coffee pot in hand. Wren swung their hand up with force and proudly gave him the finger. Dante looked over his shoulder, eyeing Baylen, before forcefully smacking the coffee pot down and removing his apron as he made his way to Wren. A wave of fright and adrenaline rushed through Wren's veins as they quickly spun on their heel and rushed out the backdoor to their car. They quickly unlocked their door and hopped in, slamming the door behind them. They looked to the back door of the restaurant, and when they didn’t see a raging Dante burst through to come and key their car, they relaxed and turned the car on. It hummed to life with warm air flowing through the vents. 

Knock knock.

Wren jumped in their seat and whipped their head towards the driver's side door, seeing Jeff standing there with a shit-eating grin. Wren rolled their eyes and rolled their window down a crack to glare up at him. Jeff leaned down and looked at Wren through the crack. “Hey stranger, where you heading off to so soon?” He moved forward, resting his forearm against the top of the driver's side door and resting his head against his fist. Wren rolled their shoulders back as they closed their eyes, attempting to block their vision of Jeff's unnerving eyes. “I'm going home. My shift’s over,” they answered. Jeff hummed and nodded as he moved his head to look at the woods beyond the parking lot. “Well like I said before; with my new job, I'll be around more. Not gonna lie, it's really nice to see you. A familiar face in a new place, ya know?” He shrugged and reverted his gaze back to Wren. “Don’t worry though. I won’t be in your way,” He said as he pushed himself away from the car and slipped his hands into his hoodie pockets. “After all. I’m not here for you.” Before Wren could question what he meant, Jeff had turned on his heels and waved goodbye. “See you ‘round, Wren! Try not to cause any more issues than you already have in your miserable life.” With that, Jeff continued to walk away, out of the parking lot and down the winding road. Wren watched as he was slowly swallowed by the darkness, a stew of emotions enveloping them as they huffed, putting the car in drive. 

Same shit different day.

[operatorsdiner]

a $20 for Your Thoughts: Entry 5.

The squeal of the brakes of Vesper’s shitty-ass 2002 Ford Focus echoed into the Waffle House itself as they pulled into the parking lot. They sighed as they leaned forward to rest their forehead on the steering wheel as they muttered, “It’s only six hours, then you can go home. What are the chances of those damn freaks showing up anyways? It’ll be fine.” They took a moment more before getting out of their car and kicking the door closed to make sure it stayed, then locked the door. Vesper ran their fingers through their dyed blue hair, feeling the ends of it settle against their neck. They pulled open the front door, preparing for Baylen’s frustration at their tardiness. He had his arms crossed and just pointed to the table he had already seated for them. They nodded, “Sorry, my car wouldn’t fuckin’ start.” “...right.” He rolled his eyes in response and just headed into the back. Vesper went to put on their apron before heading out to the table where two people were seated. One of the two was a taller man, dressed in all black including his gloves. The only colored parts of his entire outfit were the blue medical mask and the blue mirrored sunglasses he was wearing to obscure his face. The hood of his jacket was pulled up to cast a shadow over his face as well, adding to his anonymity. The other person was a stark contrast to him; a young woman dressed in a neon purple and black striped long-sleeve shirt with a graphic tee layered over it, a purple ruffled skirt, ripped fishnets, and converse. Her hair was cut into a classic 2000s scene shag, complete with streaks of neon purple and raccoon tails. Vesper was completely unphased as they looked at the pair and started their spiel in an exhausted monotone, “Hi, welcome to Waffle House. My name is Vesper, I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Shirley temple.” The woman stated as she looked Vesper up and down. They could tell they were being judged for their choice of outfit; black cargo pants and a graphic t-shirt so faded that it was entirely illegible. “And a chocolate chip waffle, but I don’t wanna have to wait 10 years, grandma.” Vesper took a deep breath to avoid cussing her out, “Right away. What can I get for you, sir?” They asked as they turned towards the man. He just remained silent, simply pointing to the black coffee, then the cheesesteak omelet. They nodded and wrote both orders down, “I’ll be right out with the drinks.” They made their way to the back to give Alex the orders and fetch the drinks, pausing in front of the walk-in. “What…?” Their question died on their tongue as they stared at the bullet holes and gashes throughout the metal. Baylen didn’t even respond to them, too focused on repairing the damage that she’d clearly caused. “Baylen? What the hell happened here?” “Wombat got in.” He replied simply as he continued to work on the repairs.

“Oooookay...” They went to give Alex the food and drink orders, pouring the black coffee themself to help. “It’s the scene chick and the creep that hides his face and barely speaks.” 

The cook just nodded and said, “Food’ll be done in about 20.” Vesper nodded and took the drinks out to the two customers, “Alright, black coffee and Shirley Temple,” they told the two as they set them down in front of each of them. The man kept his silence and lifted the medical mask just enough to expose his mouth and take a sip of the coffee. His skin was a deathly gray, and as he opened his mouth, Vesper could see a row of razor-sharp teeth for just a moment before his lips closed over the edge of the mug.

“How long ‘til the food’s ready?” The scene girl asked as she used her tongue to guide the straw to her mouth.

“The chef said it’ll be about 20 minutes,” Vesper replied as they shifted on their feet a little.

“‘Kay.” She replied before turning back towards the man. Vesper nodded as they walked off to start cleaning empty tables while they waited for the food. Once it was ready, they brought it out to the two, getting a smile from the woman. When the two eventually finished their meal and left, Vesper found a $20 tip on the table for them. “Huh, I wasn’t expecting that. Guess they’re not that bad.” They muttered as they started cleaning up the table. 

The rest of their shift went by quietly, until the last 30 minutes. Vesper had gone to the back to help Alex finish up when their head suddenly started throbbing with pain. A splitting headache appeared behind their eyes as static started to haze around the edges of their vision. They scrambled towards the sink and braced themself on the edge of it before throwing up into it.

“You’re going home. Now,” Baylen told them as he approached. “Leave your car, it’ll be fine. I’ll clean this up, Alex start closing up, we’re just calling it here.”

Vesper slowly sank to the floor as they clutched their skull, trying to will the sudden migraine to disappear as the other two finished everything up for the night.

[operatorsdiner]

Somethings in the walk-in: Entry 2

Enzo had been hearing something scuttling around in the walk-in next to their dish station for about 45 minutes at this point, and they were getting really close to banging on a wall with a broom to attempt to get some peace and quiet. Enzo’s earbuds had died an hour into their shift, so now all they had to listen to was Baylen and Dante’s muffled discussion from the manager's office, the water spraying against the cheap plates, and that disgusting sound of what they could only assume to be claws on metal. Enzo felt like they were going to combust if they remained in the godforsaken dish pit any longer.

They reached into their pockets under the rubber apron and felt around until their calloused hand found purchase on their pack of cigarettes. ‘I’m taking a damn break.’ They thought to themselves, before turning heel and heading for the back door, not bothering to shout back to the other’s what they were up to. Before even reaching the threshold of the door they took their lighter out of their pocket and with a chtik chtik chtik, the cig was lit and hanging from the corner of his mouth. Enzo kicked the door’s pedal open, keeping one hand up, lazily holding their cigarette up whilst the other was stuffed in their pants pockets. The chilled night air blowing into them, the embers at the end of the cig reacting to the cool air with a bright glow. Enzo finally felt like he could properly breathe, as he filled their lungs with the coarse smoke slowly before exhaling the low cloud, and their chest deflated with its release.

The hours were ticking by slowly, hardly any customers were in - they were really just catching up on the dishes from the second shift crew. Dante and Baylen were still here, sure, but they were running the front of house and working on the schedule for the next week with very little time to interact for the moment. Those two were the hardasses of the restaurant, the guard dog and its equally violent commander. 

Dante had dark black hair which they kept cropped in a messy wolf cut, framing their face just right to accentuate the scars that crisscrossed his facial features. Their black glasses hid whatever eye color they possessed. Those glasses only came off when he was driving his truck at night. Under those glasses were a pierced septum and snake bite piercings, usually adorned with silver jewelry - contrasting the gold he wore on his neck and dangling from his ears. Dante enjoyed the forbidden style of mixing metals, or maybe just thrived on annoying people from any possible angle. Dante never came too overdressed or too under, always doting some casual gothic fashion - always in layers but never over the top. Makeup was not an option, it was a requirement and always applied purposely smudged. If Dante had been free at this moment he’d be with Enzo smoking, insulting Enzo’s choice of cig. Dante was an asshole.

Baylen was entirely tall and lean muscle, normally dressed in tweed academic clothing - gold jewelry adorning his neck and wrists. Their face had one lone scar that dug deep from his left jaw all the way to the side of her nose, freckles dusted across their pale cheeks. Baylen’s cheeks were never seen without their dimple piercings, nor was their nose ever seen without a ring hanging from her septum. They always looked so tired to Enzo, their heterochromatic eyes staring with pinpoint accuracy it almost felt like they were looking through you rather than at you. Patches of pale white flesh crept up his jaw, and every couple of months those patches only seemed to widen. Baylen was the store’s manager and the second youngest of the overnight crew. Baylen didn’t smoke and rather chose to deal with whatever issues came into the waffle house completely sober. Baylen was fucking crazy.

Enzo blew another puff of smoke into the autumnal air as he heard footsteps approaching him from around the building. Both of his eyebrows rose as they looked expectantly towards the parking lot side of the building, flicking the ash from their cig. They didn’t need to guess for long who it was, Enzo knew this person’s slouched posture well. It was a regular customer of theirs, always seen in the same tan windbreaker with disgustingly well-trimmed sideburns. Enzo spoke before the man did, posture relaxing as smoke spilled from their lips.

“If you’re here to get me to smoke spirits, I’m kicking your ass.”

The customer's laugh was gruff and short, his lips quirking up slightly at the corners. “You’re lucky I’m near you considering the shit you’ve got.” The tired man leaned against the brick wall, just a few feet away from Enzo. “Slow night?”

“You’re the first customer I’ve seen in four and a half hours, Tim.”

Tim let out a low, “That’s rough,” with the exhale of smoke, coughing deep and ragged into the crook of his arm. The cough was dry but sounded so deep in the chest Enzo would have cringed at the sound had they not come to know that this was very normal for the man standing next to them. Every week or so Tim joined the crew for a smoke break, Enzo could only assume that Tim worked nearby - but they’d never really asked. On nights like this where it was just the two of them, the two would stand there in a quiet but comfortable silence until their cigarettes were nothing but the butts. 

That’s precisely what happened tonight; they stood listening to the occasional car driving by on the main road, the rustling of trees in the nearby woods, and neither of them paid any mind to the guttural growls and clanging of metal coming from inside. At the end of this period of peace, they both nodded, stomped out their cigs, and went their separate ways. Enzo moved from leaning on the door and headed back inside, where the feral screeching had only grown more prominent.

Enzo grabbed a metal tray from the dishpit and chucked it at the walk-in door.

[operatorsdiner]

Leave Me Alone: Entry 6

Adrian’s car pulled out from the parking lot, toting a whining and delirious Vesper along with Adrian and Alex. The tires made an audible crunch as it rolled through the empty snow-drifted lot. Baylen was left alone in the store with the customer entrance locked and the lights off - the store was supposed to be open for the whole duration of the night, but with how intense the past 24 hours were for the employees he had decided to make the executive decision to close until morning. Baylen had one of his headphones on, long hair tucked away in a messy half-assed ponytail whilst they cleaned the store. 

The mop water had long since gone cold, and Baylen was mostly just running the wet soapy mush across the floor as some type of courtesy or act of vengeance to the day staff who frequently left the restaurant without completing any of their duties. Music was blaring in their ears, base pumping through his cranium as he worked through the main dining area. His feet trailed backwards as he mopped down the hallway towards the dishpit, the bottoms of his non-stick shoes squelching each time he stepped in a puddle trail of syrup. Baylen really hated the day shift, and he was reminded of it each time he worked alone in the forsaken restaurant. Which wasn’t frequent, but often enough to irritate him beyond recognition.

Baylen felt the disturbance around him before he heard it, his fingers double tapping on the headphone in his ear to pause his music as he felt the floor buzz underfoot. He whipped his head around to look over to the back door, the door he had just managed to fix earlier that day as the horrific sound of metal shredding filled the stale air - and he would be pissed if it weren’t for the actual visceral fear he felt seeing the tip of a metal hatchet come through the door just above it’s handle. The metal screamed out as the metal blade was removed from the heavy door, and it was then that Baylen processed exactly what was going on. The asshole who has been coming in to try and steal the soda dispenser’s syrup bags and an unnecessary amount of utensils was here, and here to be an absolute nuisance to Baylen’s otherwise meek and boring night.

Baylen hardly had time to prepare as a sickening and loud BANG! Sounded out, metal caving in its frame around the outline of what he could only assume was that asshole’s boot. In quick succession, a final powerful kick hit the door, folding the door in and busting the lock. In a flurry of browns and greens, a man ducked and crawled under the newly folded metal, the man’s neck cracking to the side in odd and jerky movements as he pulled himself to his feet. The man that Baylen referred to as Goggles. The man was shorter than Baylen, but only by an inch or so - if he really paid attention he would say the man was either 5’11 or 6” tall. His hood was laid across messy and gnarled brown curls that obscured most of his features, the rest was blocked by orange tinted round goggles and a metal face guard that resembled a muzzle. ‘This guy needs a damn muzzle,’ was all Baylen could think of when he saw it. The man's ratty and tattered clothes and hikers' belts were reeking of what could only be described as the smell of blood and death.

He stood there, slowly approaching Baylen as each step squelched on the floor but this time not from syrup or lingering sodas but rather blood. Thick and dark blood that was caked onto the man’s black boots, leaving a disgusting and sticky trail behind him as he moved closer and closer. So close that Baylen could hear each joint as they cracked and groaned out in protest whilst the man’s body rattled and twitched. His voice was cracked and frayed from lack of proper use, a sharp whistle escaping his lips as his head cocked to the side.

"I just wanted to say thank you again... for last night." He took a final step forward, stopping mere inches away from Baylen, his body pressed against his. His breath heavy and ragged as it muffled against his muzzle, sending shivers down Baylen’s spine.

"Also," he added, sliding his hand upwards, brushing against Baylen's chest. "You didn't have to treat me like trash."

Baylen's lip curled up in disdain, trying to step back from the man, "Are you… Thanking me for beating the fuck out of you?" Baylen spoke sternly, with an underlying tone of disgust for the man who was touching him.

Toby grinned, leaning in closer. "Maybe I like it a little bit," he whispered, his breath hot against Baylen's ear.

He looked positively depraved as he spoke in a sing-song tone. "Besides, you know you enjoy it too." He suddenly struck, propelling himself towards Baylen, punching the pretty man across the jaw.

Baylen gasped, adrenaline pumping through his system - the punch hit him with a strong 'CRACK!' as it landed on his jaw, Baylen stumbled but only for a moment before he swung hard and fast. He pushed Goggles back, throwing him off of himself and striking him hard in the chest.

Goggles was sent flying, landing heavily on the floor with a loud grunt. He struggled to stand up again, coughing and wheezing heavily. Though as the man wheezed from the winding he did not flinch, instead he cackled out a screeching laugh.

"Aww! The fun has finally begun," he growled, lunging at Baylen once more, "You know I love when you get all mean on me!"

They circled each other, trading blows like old retired boxers reconnecting after years apart. Their bodies collided repeatedly, causing cups and utensils to clatter on the ground.

"Ugh," Baylen painted a long breath, punching the delusional man across his cheek, "What is with your obsession with me? What... The fuck?" He was heaving every word he spoke.

Baylen dodged another blow, landing a powerful kick to Goggle's stomach, sending him flying into the counter. "Sorry," he panted between breaths, his voice hoarse from the exchange. The apology seemed almost out of place as Baylen was beating the shit out of the giggling man.

"You're fucked in the head!" He lunged again, aiming a swift roundhouse punch to Goggle's temple, who only grunted as the force hit him, his head spinning from the sudden impact. He stumbled backward, rubbing his head where he was hit. "You know you want it," he managed to croak out between gasps for air.

"Besides, maybe if I win this time, you'll finally give me a proper reward." He laughed maniacally as he shamelessly flirted with the manager, charging towards Baylen once more.

"Not.. not a chance." He groaned, grappling Toby swiftly and holding him in a side body restraint. He began to tow the man towards the front door, using his free leg to kick it open with his foot as he dragged Goggle's to the exit.

Toby squirmed and struggled, kicking and punching futilely against Baylen's grip. "Let go of me!" he yelled, his voice hoarse from the previous fight.

"Please! I'll do anything!" He pleaded, unable to hide the desperation in his voice.

"Do me a favor then," Baylen grunted, tossing the masked man out into the snow drifted sidewalk, "Stop fucking with me."

He promptly shut and locked the door in Toby's face, leaving him alone out in the cold.

Toby landed on the snowy ground, cursing and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. Snowflakes began to flurry against his exposed skin, and his body struggled to move from the relentless assault. He glared up at Baylen's silhouette through the window, shaking his fists in rage with an unbridled scream of rage spilling from his lips before turning away and trudging down the street, disappearing into the distance.

Baylen’’s body ached out in protest as he stumbled over to an empty booth, laying flat on the uncomfortable wood bench as he grumbled. His hand reached into his back pocket, bruised knuckles stinging as he entered his password - his face bruised past the point of facial recognition. Their fingers hovered for a moment before clicking on the contact he last was texting. Hesitantly, he pressed the call button. It only rang twice before Dante answered, Baylen not sparing a moment before speaking.

“Goggles came back.”