The Patron by R. Michael
Marcel walked to a diner nestled in the outskirts of a small town, trying to recall the last time he set foot in this realm. In his left hand, a pewter, skull pendant radiated an emerald glow between his knuckles. A bell chimed when Marcel stepped inside, and he tucked the accessory into his overcoat pocket. Uncarved pumpkins decorated the counter, and a cluster of ghoulish clings adorned one of the windows facing an orange and red forest.
A woman with a green apron smiled. “Just take a seat wherever you like. I’ll be right with you.”
Marcel nodded and did as instructed. As soon as he slipped into a booth, the server came over, sliding a menu in front of him.
“Thank you, Beth.” Marcel said, eyeing her name tag.
“Sure thing, just take your time.” Marcel’s mahogany irises met hers, and the waitress paused. “Could I get you anything to drink?”
“Water’s fine.” Marcel answered in a dismissive tone. “You sure enjoy Halloween here.”
“Yeah, I guess we do,” she forced a laugh and walked off.
Once certain he wouldn’t be seen, he withdrew a golden chain holding the pewter skull. The pendant no longer glowed, but the eyes were dark and swirling, like a pair of black holes.
Beth returned with a notepad a couple minutes later. “Have you decided what you want, or do you need a little time?”
“I think I’ll have a cheeseburger. I don’t remember if I’ve had one before.”
Beth giggled, jotting down the order. “Are fries okay?”
“Yes.” Marcel’s brows furrowed. “I think so.”
Beth cocked her head and wandered over to a window as night arrived six hours premature, bringing a full moon laced by wispy clouds. Horse whinnying echoed from a skeletal steed galloping along the tree line. Beth’s writing pad tumbled to the floor, and she gasped. One by one, the patrons rose to gawk at the spectacle, muttering amongst themselves.
“W-wha…” Beth stammered.
“You said you like Halloween, yet you look disturbed.”
“You’re doing this? How?”
Marcel shrugged.
“Who are you?”
His jaw muscles bulged while he maintained eye contact. “The last time I walked these lands, mortals bowed to me in worship and saw death as honorable. Now fear of the unknown paralyzes your species. But I see something in you, if only you’d learn to overcome that trepidation.”
Beth tensed, unsure what to make of his cryptic answer. However, after the words parted his lips, a shapeless black mass passed through the diner walls into a middle-aged couple, then out through the ceiling. Both touched by the spirit fell dead upon contact, eliciting screams from the survivors.
“You… killed them…” Beth cupped a hand over her mouth.
Marcel just stared at her with unblinking eyes until a crack of thunder startled her. Whirling around, Beth spied the undead horse beelining for the diner, bearing a skeleton on its back. The steed paused in front of the door, and the rider dismounted, raking his bony digits along the glass. Beth looked to Marcel, who hung the skull pendant around his neck. His skin turned gray, resembling a sheet stretched too thin across his bones.
“Humanity always thinks it desires something until it gets it. All this worship and imagery of death, yet you fear it as if it’s the end. You’ve forgotten there’s more, and you think I’m a monster for granting your desire,” Marcel said.
Goosebumps prickled the waitress as she tried to discern what sat in the booth: a demon, a deity, or perhaps a djinn? She balled her fingers into fists, mustering her last kernel of courage. “Sometimes it’s fun to have a fantasy. Make this stop.” She stole a glance at the animated skeleton stalking the premises.
Marcel brushed his fingers along his wrinkled chin. Age spots appeared on his face, and his hair turned ashen. Moments later, rays of sunlight shone through the darkened sky, yet the cloaked being still paced.
A young woman’s phone dinged, but when she glanced to check it, a bony hand passed through the diner’s wall and touched her shoulder. Beth watched in horror as the hapless woman turned ethereal. The creature jerked her outside and consumed her.
“Stop this, now!” the waitress roared.
Marcel stood, brushing off his black coat. “The people here bewilder me.” He snapped his fingers, and the skull pendant materialized around Beth’s neck. “Perhaps, you can wield this better than I.”
All nightmares that terrorized the restaurant’s guests vanished in an instant.
“You will see things as my kin and I do, but since you’re human, maybe you can connect with their desires better.”
An explosion of colors Beth had never seen before bombarded her vision.
“My mantle is yours. Do with it as you will. Teach me what these people really want.” Marcel’s lips twisted into a faint smirk, and he departed in an aureate haze, whispering, “You won’t make it a year.”
Beth staggered. An electrical tingling pulsated from her spine into her extremities. The skull brightened, inundating the diner with its glow. Glancing up, Beth saw worlds cycling in front of her like channels on a television. In one, a sprawling city stretched before her, and in another, a verdant forest of white pines supplanted the metropolis.
At last she understood the patron’s power: the means to traverse and merge realities. Beth’s trembling hands took it off, and the realms dispersed. The diner’s guests stared at her, a mix of fear and awe in their eyes. As she moved to tuck the pendant in her apron pocket, it sizzled in her palm. Beth uncurled her fingers, yet it stayed pressed against her skin. A surge of panic welled within her. Not knowing what else to do, she draped the chain around her neck, wondering what sort of curse Marcel had brought her.
—
R. Michael lives in rural Minnesota with his family. His works have appeared in “Dark Recesses,” “Twenty-two Twenty-eight,” “Land Beyond the World Magazine,” and other publications. He enjoys reading, gaming, and walking with his border collie.
