A Bloody Misfortune At The Cafe

A Bloody Misfortune At The Cafe

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WpMetadataReadComplete Sun, Jan 19, 2020<5 mins
Nicole Harte wanted to work at the Cafe since she was 12 years old. After getting the job at the Cafe, Nicole realized that working at the Cafe would be tough on working alone so she brought her friend, Lauren, to the Cafe to convince her into working at the Cafe. After some convincing, Lauren applied to the Cafe and got the job. After a month, at working at the Cafe, Nicole and Lauren had noticed strange details when working at the Cafe. They noticed how that there would always be the same six customers that would show up at the Cafe and order. They noticed how that they were the only employees working at the Cafe. Nicole observed how that when working at the Cafe, time felt that it would slow down whenever they were working. One day, while working at midnight, ten new customers had visited the Cafe which felt unusual for the two employees. Lauren had went up to the cash register to try and take their orders. Then, the lights went out. Nicole couldn't see anything other than pure darkness. A few minutes passed by and the lights were on. Nicole saw a body on the floor with bruises and scratch marks on the body. She knew what had just happend during that night. What happened to one of the customers? Who was responsible for the event? Will Nicole and Lauren solve this mystery and make it out alive? Story made from December 22, 2019 - 2020? A story made by HappyPenguin534 Inspired by Robin Stevens series, Murder Most Unladylike Mysteries/the Wells and Wong Mysteries series.
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'The night was alive with silence. I moved through it like a shadow, black leather gloves tight on my hands, boots soft against the grass. My gas mask hid my face, leaving only darkness where my eyes should be. The world narrowed to a single point: the house ahead. Tonight, it would belong to me. The farmhouse rose stark and white beneath the moonlight, silent except for the occasional grunt of a pig or the low hum of a cow. They were unaware. They were insignificant. I crouched behind the hedge, eyes scanning, senses alert. Every detail mattered: the flicker of light across the curtains, the faint rustle of movement inside, the way a shadow shifted across the floor. She was there. Oblivious. Popcorn in hand, murmuring to herself as the television flickered. Every motion was a note in tonight's symphony, and I was the conductor. I studied her, cataloging. Timing. Patterns. Fear. She didn't notice me yet, and that was perfect. Patience was everything. One sound, one misstep, and it could all unravel. I rang the doorbell once. Silence. Again. Still nothing. She flinched slightly, just enough to make my pulse quicken. Her small reaction was delicious. A sudden movement in the yard caught my eye-a neighbor's dog barking at some unseen intruder. Its voice was loud, startling, but contained. I froze. My breath slowed. Patience. Observation. The dog's curiosity would pass. I remained still, hidden in shadow, letting the moment stretch. The animal lost interest and padded away. Perfect. I moved to the back of the house, hammer in hand.' ...

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