"You're all set," I said to Mrs. Poe, handing her a pale pink bag of raspberry danishes. My voice was sugary sweet, as it usually was when speaking to customers.
The old woman smiled at me. Her wrinkled cheeks reminded me of wet dough. "Thank you, dear," she said in her cheerful, choppy voice. The bell on the door rang as she exited the shop.
I watched her turn around the street corner through the large windows that made up the front wall of my shop. After she was out of view, I searched the street for any other potential customers, then sighed when I saw none. Today was going to be a boring day.
I allowed my gaze to wander around the room while I waited for more people. Though I hadn't changed the interior in a while, the designs and color patterns still engrossed me. My eyes went from thing to thing; first to the light blue and white display cases full of my carefully decorated pastries, then to the soothing paintings that hung on the walls, then the fluffy pink rug that covered the birchwood floor. I again complimented myself on my choice of painting the walls white instead of a solid color, for it went with the paintings better.
I continued to study the room, thinking of different kinds of furniture that would be a good addition, until I heard the door to the backroom open with its usual groan. My head snapped up instinctively.
My employee, Robin, stalked out of the room with an open box of éclairs. She set the box on the front counter, then turned to face me.
"This is the only box that was open. Looks like Jacob got to them," she said, chuckling. I looked down, and sure enough, there were crumbs all over the inside of the box and bites taken out of every éclair.
I sighed. I was going to have to ask Mrs. Taylor to keep a closer eye on her son the next time she stopped by. The boy was like a goblin.
"Okay," I said, pulling the box towards me. "I'll take care of this, you take over the front."
She nodded, her short brown curls bopping with her head. She stepped over to take my spot as I began heading for the backroom.
"Oh, also," she began. I paused. "The shipment of flour has arrived. The boxes are stacked in the back, next to the macarons."
I nodded, then pushed through the door, ignoring it as it groaned in protest.
After throwing the contaminated éclairs away and checking to see if I would have to order more soon, I headed for the stacked boxes of flour. I quickly counted them, making sure the correct amount was there, then unsealed one and began moving the small bags inside to the shelf behind the stack.
When I was almost done transferring the flour, I heard the door groan again. Robin stuck her head in the room, a strange expression on her small face.
"What is it?" I asked, rising from where I was opening another box.
She shook her head slightly. "A strange man came in and started asking about a special delivery that may have arrived here." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I have no idea what he's talking about.”
I raised an eyebrow, confused. The only delivery that had arrived was the flour, and that certainly didn't seem very special.
"Stay here and finish unpacking these," I ordered. Robin silently obeyed, quickly moving across the room and crouching down before the half-opened box.
I pushed my way through the door, wiping dust off my cream-colored pants as I did so. Then I strode to the front counter, where the man was waiting.
He was definitely strange, as Robin had said. He was wearing all black, with a thick silver chain around his muscled neck. His hair was bright white and very long, tied back into a sleek ponytail that was thrown over his shoulder and swaying slightly by his hip. He was clearly Asian, with a perfect, chiseled face and sharp eyes that were glaring at me with the intensity of a hunting tiger. His presence made the feeling of the shop completely different; threatening and unpredictable instead of comforting.
I returned his gaze, too dumbfounded to speak. I felt as if I shouldn't speak before someone who looked like he was from the Volturi.
He glared at me for another few seconds, then suddenly dropped his menacing look and flashed a quick smile. "Hello," he said. His voice was as smooth as marble, with a slight accent. It sounded Japanese, but I didn't trust myself with determining different accents.
"Hello," I answered, skeptical. I motioned towards the backroom with a slight swerve of my hand. "My employee said you were asking about a delivery?"
His face was neutral as he spoke. "Yes, I was. There is a special delivery I was told arrived here. I’m supposed to pick it up."
"I'm sorry, sir, but there have been no deliveries except for some flour that I ordered," I explained cautiously. "Maybe your delivery arrived somewhere else."
He shook his head. "There was a delivery here. Will you check, please?"
"Sir—"
"Check, please." The threatening glare was back.
My eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry, sir. I was just in there; there is no special delivery. Now, if you're not going to buy any pastries, I have to ask you to leave."
Just as the stranger opened his mouth to respond, Robin shouted from the backroom, her voice shrill.
"Nel!"
I turned my head to glance at the door, then looked back at the man. He was smiling again, this time more smugly than politely. The uneasy feeling grew stronger. I turned away from him and headed for the backroom.
"Robin? What's wrong?" I asked as I threw the door open.
Robin was kneeling over the last box of flour, her hands gripping the sides rigidly. As the door closed behind me, she looked up. Her eyes were wide with fear and her mouth was hanging open. She stared at me, not speaking.
"Robin?" I slowly stepped towards her. "Are you alright?"
She closed her mouth with a loud snap. Then she turned her head back to the box and lifted a shaking hand to point inside.
My eyes narrowed. I continued to move towards her. "What is it?"
She remained silent.
Then whatever was inside the box flashed, filling the room with a blinding white light. Robin screamed, jumping back. And then the room was completely dark, except for the tiny amount of light that came through the small square window in the door.
"Robin!" I shouted, terrified. I could barely see her scrambling away from the box, small sounds of fear escaping from her mouth.
The loud sound of the door opening suddenly filled the room, and then a pool of light spilling from the main room followed. I spun around, my fear quickly multiplying.
And there he was. His face was no longer neutral; his eyebrows were furrowed, his nose was wrinkled in a fierce snarl, and his lips were pulled back into a crazed smile. I felt my eyes widen even more. I took a step back, but I was too shocked and confused to run. Maybe this was some kind of sick prank?
But then I looked down and saw what the stranger was holding. It was one of the steel rods from the display cases in the main room. As I watched, he raised his arm and with it, the rod. His smile somehow grew even wilder, and then he brought his arm down quickly, and a scream flew from my mouth. Robin screamed too, our screams mixing to create a strange melody. I felt a sharp pain in my skull and everything went black.
© Kayla Minder