#mirrorslave

View On WordPress

"M-m-me?" 

“Boo! I'm the Boogeyman! The terrible horrible Boogeyman! I come in the middle of the night to frighten, bad little girls like you!” The sound of brass instruments drifted out into the mostly empty restaurant – accompanied by a familiar voice, singing somewhat enthusiastically alongside the old dated voice of the original performer. Had the title of the song not been so obvious and the source of the song so clearly coming from the kitchen, one might wonder who it was singing – but the only mystery here was the clattering and thudding that seemed to be just barely audible over the man's voice. Whatever was happening in there, Boogey was clearly entertained with whatever he was doing, which probably wasn't very reassuring.

Stepping inside the restaurant, Boogey's dark eyes scan the many empty table tops that are scattered around. He hasn't worked here long, but he is rather fond of the place already, the dull lighting making him feel all cozy and welcome. Most places around were too bright for his liking, these days. From his attire, one would not guess he was a chef, but perhaps the owner with the sharp three piece suit he wore. Outside of the kitchen, he was rarely seen in anything else. After another survey of the place, he plops down at one of the many tables at Remnants getting visibly comfortable – his feet resting in the closest chair they could reach – glass filled with alcohol he undoubtedly snatched from behind the bar. Swirling the amber colored liquid with a conspiratorial grin on his face, he leans back in his chair and takes the whole glass down before calling out into the empty room in a musical tone, “Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?” If he knew his employer as well as he thought, there would be no doubt the other man would be there and hear him.