This story, The Last Dinner, is the first offering in Bradley Ramsey new Prompt in the October Horror Month: The First Indulgence: Lord Devereaux the Devourer.
Devereaux likes his horror in large chunks. Are you brave enough to take a seat at Devereaux’s Diner for the next course? I chose three courses.
I wiped my mouth with the serviette. Got up, grabbed my bag, and said to hubby and son that I am going to the powder room. That meal was absolutely fantastic, I thought to myself as I waited in queue. Noticed three other ladies waiting too and smiled at them. Mm no return smiles. Oh well.
Washed my hands, and whilst drying them, I looked in the mirror – strange, distorted I can barely make out my face, but shrugged and thought to myself that a bit of lippy is required. Took the gorgeous Rose Rogue out my handbag zipper and applied. Glorious, sumptuous shade. Not red, but just a lovely colour. Plopped it back into it’s place zipped and picked up my bag. My step light and happy. Looking forward to seeing that gorgeous cottage garden.
On walking out, I noticed that the three ladies weren’t there. Just a lingering musky smell. Odd I thought. Never mind… they must have used the gents. I walked down the corridor to the end, down a couple of steps and turned the corner to go into the restaurant. The odd musky smell was there too. Mm.
Absolute quietness! Freeking Frog! Where did everyone go? Not a soul, not a waiter, no hubby, no son. Double Odd! I retraced my steps back to the facilities thinking I must be in a dream. Passing the swing door to the kitchen I looked in. No one, pots still boiling, meat still sizzling. Plates waiting to be taken to the diners.
My heart wasn’t beating – it was racing a dozen to one, and I felt so very afraid. Walked back to the powder room. No one, looked into the cubicle, no one. Flipping Flop! I was stupefied. Walked out and into the gents. Nothing. Bent double, trying to ease my breathing, get it back to normal.
I stumbled out and walked back into the dining area. Nothing, no one, Not a single person. My breath started to come in gasps. My heart rate increased. I felt a full-on panic rising. This couldn’t be happening.
My mind went through every scenario and the only thing I could think of was that there was an emergency and everyone left and forgot to check the loo’s. I went to the front of the restaurant, no one. Looked outside – all the cars were there. Yes, they are at the meeting point if there is a problem I thought.
I checked to see if there was an emergency evacuation map – nothing. A dreadful feeling came over me. Where is everybody. I walked out the restaurant. Down the stairs to our car. There it was, I checked the doors. Locked. Of course, my hubby had the keys. Looking around I noticed that it was ultra quiet. Not a sound.
Not a breath of air, not a bird singing, not a bee buzzing and I mean there should have been as the gardens at this particular restaurant were absolutely amazing. That is why we came, this place had incredible reviews. The food excellent and apparently well known for its cottage garden.
Overwhelmed with worry I walked towards the fantastic garden. Couldn’t understand why I was going on about the garden when I should be panicking. Where in the world is everyone? Oh, I thought – let me check my phone. Hubby or son would have messaged me by now. Took my iPhone out of my bag, nothing. Dead as a doorknob. What! It was fully charged! Must be the signal I thought. I used it just a half an hour ago when I checked in on Facebook. Walked around looking to see if I could get a signal. Nothing.
I walked over to a bench and sat down, totally bewildered. For the life of me I could not think of any scenario to cause people to go missing in a few minutes, the air to feel like it was pressing down on me, no sound, not a cloud in the sky, not a bit of wind. Nothing. I must walk I thought.
Moving forward, I followed a path to the pond, glanced at it - not a fish swimming! Around it and down a few steps was a small garden room. Empty. I continued down to an area that must have been the gardener’s potting shed. It was empty. A bench was covered in work-in-progress: a large rosebush lay on its side, the potting soil spilled, and a small wooden post lay next to it. I bent closer. The post wasn’t for the plant. It was thin and tapered, almost like a stake, freshly scored with three long, parallel scratches. I didn’t touch it. I backed away, the curiosity immediately dissolving into a sickening dread.
Retraced my steps back to our car. Still not a sign of anyone. I walked down the driveway and onto the road. Nothing. Not a car in site. Now I was more than panicked. My mouth was dry; my heart was thumping as if it would exit my chest. I was shaking like a leaf. What the hell is going on I thought.
The air was too thick. Heavy. It didn’t just feel thick - it resisted my breathing, heavy and viscous as wet cottonwool. The silence was painful, a high-pitched pressure in my ears. When the low vibration started moving through the ground, I grabbed my face, it felt like it was rattling the calcium in my bones and tightened the nerves in my teeth. The smell of putrid, burnt matches was instantly overpowering, stinging my eyes, and catching in my throat, forcing a gag.
The branches of the trees where moving in a rhythmic way, but no wind. The bushes were rustling, a faint dust like cloud appearing. I ran back into the restaurant wanting the familiar feel, being outside was horrific and eerie.
I stood at the reception area; my nerves were at their limit. And… then I felt it, a hot breath on my neck. The hairs stood up on my arms, a chill running down my spine. I got up, screamed for blue heaven, and ran to the back, slamming the doors behind me. I crouched under the farthest table, but the low, piercing hum was inside my skull.
The air wasn’t thick - it was syrup. The sulphuric smell was acrid and suffocating. I heard it - a whisper, a hot breath. I screamed, jumped up, and ran towards the kitchen. I clawed the largest knife from the block - the steel was unnaturally cold and backed into the narrow gap behind the stainless-steel prep table.
I didn’t want to see what was coming, but I couldn’t stop myself from peeking. The only sound was the bubbling pots and the mocking sizzle of fat on the grill, a nightmare sound effect in a world gone silent.
CLANG! I nearly screamed out in terror. What in freaking Fred’s name was that! My heart was in my mouth.
“Hello, is anyone there?” A slightly breathless voice whispered, I nearly fainted with relief and charged around the corner forgetting the huge knife was still held in my hand. Nothing.
What on earth was going on? A flash of black around the corner, I ran into the restaurant…………. I light touch on my arm, I glanced down, a hand, thin papery skin, long black nails. I fainted………
😱
If you enjoyed this chunk of confusion and terror, it’s just the appetiser. So enjoyed this and loved exploring new “terrortories”. Please keep tuned in for the next scary story.
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What I loved most was how human the story felt in the middle of all that dread. Little bits like “Flipping Flop!” and the thought that maybe there was an emergency and they’d just forgotten to clear the loo, those small, almost funny reactions gave such a real voice to the narrator. It made the creeping silence and terror something I could empathize with.
Excellent work for Day 1’s prompt here, Brenda! I love the narration and how it captures the panic and dread that sets in as the story goes on.
The rising tension was excellent as well. My heart was racing by the end!