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How to Run a (Murder) Café

Chapter One

Chapter One

Dec 17, 2023

This content is intended for mature audiences for the following reasons.

  • •  Physical violence
  • •  Cursing/Profanity
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In the last twelve hours, Celeste had cut across seven-lane highways to the sound of blaring horns and screeching brakes, and navigated mazes of dirt roads that, even in the 23rd century, still didn’t appear on GPS. At long last, she saw the neon-lit sign she’d been searching for: 



APPROACHING RADIANT CITY
BORDER CLOSED AFTER 7PM
PLEASE SEE CHECK-IN STATION



Concrete barriers were erected to prevent further travel ahead.  She took the turn-off toward what appeared to be a rest stop or trucker’s check-in station at first glance, but was the size of a large apartment complex. 

Sleek, expensive-looking vehicles sat in the parking lot, still glistening from their fresh paint jobs. She pulled up between two black cars and stepped out into the cool night air. The natural breeze felt good after having sat in her car for so long, and her legs thanked her for the reprieve. She wondered if the scent of fast food still clung to her clothes.

The entrance to the building was a long hallway guarded by a tall guard with short black hair that looked as though it had been cut blindly, and with dull scissors. A pistol hung from his hip. Celeste approached them with a measure of apprehension. 

He held up a hand to halt her. “Resident, or visitor?”

“Ne…” Celeste’s throat broke. It had been hours since she’d spoken. She cleared her throat. “New resident. I have an appointment.”

“Place any weapons, including mace and self-defense items, into the security box. You can keep all other items on you.”

“I don’t have anything like that.”

“Sure you don’t, kid, ” he said with an exasperated sigh. “They won’t be confiscated. Just place them in the bin.”

Celeste shrugged. She had nothing to place inside. “Can I go in now?”

The guard gave her a concerned look, but nodded.

The interior was dark and drab, save for a dull lavender glow that drifted up from neon strips built into the floor. 

Another guarded door awaited her ahead, with an unguarded one on the left. To the right was a receptionist desk manned by an old man who seemed to be fifty years past retirement, with wrinkles so long and drooping that they seemed to fall off his face and melt into the desk. Beside the desk was a steel platform with two thin, glowing columns on either side.

“Good evenin’. I have an appointment,” Celeste said after clearing her throat. The man motioned wordlessly for her to sit.

“Name?” he asked. He had as much enthusiasm as a child at a funeral.

“Celeste Cervenka.”

He referenced something on his computer, then slid a form toward her. “Access to the city is restricted until visitors and new residents have been briefed. I’m going to go over the waiver with you now. Pay attention. I don’t want to repeat myself.”

“Okay. Do I get a copy of —”

“Radiant City is narcotic-free, except as prescribed by a doctor,” began. He recited the line as though he’d read it a million times, not bothering to reference the form between them “Firearms of any sort cannot be owned or carried except by law enforcement. Medically-approved cybernetic augmentations are legal. 

“Advanced cybernetic augmentations are also legal, but having them installed will mean you are unable to leave the city, due to federal safety regulations. Modifying these augmentations is illegal. If you have questions about these rules and regulations or have concerns about the installation of cybernetic implants and your ability to leave the city, please consult a medical professional. 

“If you accept these terms and conditions for tenancy in Radiant City, please state, I agree.”

Celeste looked around, wondering how their conversation was being recorded. Unable to find anything, she gave up and said, “I agree. Not like I’ll be able to afford anythin’ like that, anyway.”

“Mhmm. Please sign here,” he said, pointing at a signature line on the form, “here, and here. The first signature confirms that I read the rules out to you. The second is to confirm that you’ve read them yourself. The third is agreeing to a biometric scan for drugs or implants.”

Celeste signed on the three lines and slid the form back to him. 

“Good. Smile for your new ID,” he said, pointing toward the tiny webcam perched on his desk wall. Celeste did so. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her photo appear on his screen.

“Please step onto the scanner and lift your arms above your head. I’ll get your new ID printed.”

Celeste did so. After a few keystrokes, the twin columns began to rotate around her. The machine hummed like a beast waking from a long, restful slumber.

“Anythin’ else I should know about the city?” she asked. Mostly, she asked it to break the silence. 

The receptionist’s eyes widened, as though he was surprised she could speak when not being spoken to. “It’s a dangerous place,” he said. “Where’d you come from? You’ve got a southern accent.”

Celeste smiled and nodded. “You’re right about that. My folks are from Georgia. At least, what’s left of it.”

“Well, this isn’t God’s Country. Lock your doors, stay inside at night if you can. A lot of people come here looking for fame and fortune. Most don’t find it. The city’s expensive, and there’s plenty of grifters who’ll take advantage of a new face and empty wallet.”

She could hear the reservation in his voice. The ominous warning. “I’ve got a job lined up,” she said, and the receptionist’s baggy face relaxed a bit. “A manager position at…well, I probably shouldn’t say.”

The interview she’d had was for a café that was more the meets the eye, and she would be seeing a lot of unsavory people. The less said about it, the better. Were the environment and cost of living outside the city not so poor, she would never have agreed to such a shady job. Tomorrow would be her first day at work.

Pleased by her silence, the man smiled. The expression was uncanny, and made her tremble. When would this damned scan be over with?

“Good call,” he said, “and keep it that way. Your business to yourself, that is. The safer you are, the fewer accidents you’ll get into. Most people who come here and get implants don’t want them, but fortune doesn’t smile on them, so they have to get them…or die.” 

Celeste’s heart skipped a beat. The machine’s hum died. “Wait,” she said, stepping off the platform, “you mean you can’t leave, even if you get an implant because of an accident? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Radiant City’s a city of dreams, kid, not fairness. It’s heaven, with a lot of fiery holes in the floor.” He glanced over at his screen. “Your scan’s all clear. Here’s your new ID. Good luck out there, kid. And try not to die. Happens more often than you think.”

Celeste gave him a nervous laugh. “Th-thanks, I think,” she said, and hurried back outside and into her raggedy car.

Once behind the barricade, a final guard checked her new identification and gave her a friendly smile. “Welcome to Radiant City,” he said. “Be careful. City’s dangerous this time of night.”

Once she was through the tunnel, the world exploded in an array of lights. Two long, neon signs ran down the road on either side. To the left: WELCOME TO. To the right: RADIANT CITY. 

Skyscrapers reached their arms toward the heavens, and as Celeste followed the lights upward, she was greeted with an onslaught of ads: winking Japanese women in bikinis, blond-haired men with muscles as large as her body running down the beach while holding a can of conveniently placed soda. A dark-skinned woman and pale woman dressed in latex, each holding a curled whip.

Traffic wasn’t nearly as heavy as she’d expected, but she couldn’t begin to count the number of cars parallel parked in front of entrances, and the parking lot in front of the theater didn’t have room to spare.

Glowing yellow eyes watched her from beneath canopies or through restaurant windows, as curious as they were perturbed, but they didn’t linger too long.

Celeste looked down at her GPS. She’d entered the city from the west side, which would cut the rest of her journey short.

There were no side roads in the heart of the city. Instead, there was only the glow of lights to indicate, generally, what services and entertainment one might find. Blues seemed to indicate high-price shops, such as car dealers and banks. As she crossed a pink road, the ads she’d seen before became more prevalent and revealing. Almost anything seemed to fall under the orange lights, including stores where one could find items used on the pink road, although the shops were more discreet. 

Remembering her instructions, Celeste navigated away from the lights entirely, toward the smog-burdened south side. She could have jumped on the highway from here, but the sights of the city were too enticing to miss out on. She could still see Thai and Indian food trucks on the side of the road, but they’d closed shop for the evening. 

Gotta stop and visit ‘em sometime, she thought. 

The orange glow consumed her and slowly gave way to more natural lighting. It seemed that only the saffron lights weren’t oppressive. 

Celeste circled a tall apartment complex with stained concrete and a fading sign and made her way through the dark maze until she found building 400. She parked, went around to the trunk, and picked up a heavy duffel bag — it was the only thing she’d brought with her, and contained nearly every possession she owned. 

She dragged herself up the stairs and stopped in front of a wrought iron gate. Beside it sat a panel of numbers. She dialed the appropriate code and waited for the machine to buzz her in. 

The interior of the apartment carried a glow that was a combination of every color outside, albeit so faint that she could barely see it. Spillage, I guess. 

She stopped in front of room 4607. A small sheet of paper had been folded and placed between the steel knocker and door. Curious, Celeste pulled it out. It read:



Welcome home!

We’re excited to have you here! The Morpheus Complex is fitted with amenities to make sure you’re as comfortable as can be! Washers and dryers are located within your unit, which is fully furnished*. Please enjoy the indoor pool and gym, located near the front office on the first floor! 

Please note that the Morpheus Complex and its employees are not responsible for theft or unlawful entry into your unit. While we strive to provide safe and comfortable living arrangements, we strongly recommend that residents keep their doors locked at all times, do not answer or approach the door unless expecting company, and to be indoors between the hours of 10 PM - 7 AM. Weapons are not allowed on the premises.**

*At an additional cost to the tenant and based upon the signed contract
**Please note that for the safety of our employees, we will not enter your unit or perform maintenance/compliance checks except upon the request of the tenant



Celeste’s fingers trembled. This beautiful, terrible city was her home now. 
Deciding some warnings were best heeded rather than tested, she unlocked the door and stepped into her new apartment. 
mikeleewrites
Michael R. Lee

Creator

Celeste's job as the nighttime manager for the Black Cat Café may be more than she bargained for. As a new face in Radiant City, she's underprepared for her nights of coffee, cyborgs, and criminals. If she hopes to survive and carve out a life for herself in this strange new city, she'll need to learn how to go toe-to-toe with the city's underworld - and fast.

#cyberpunk #female_protagonist

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cheetoflavoredpasta
cheetoflavoredpasta

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This is already so interesting, I love the cyberpunk theme ^^

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How to Run a (Murder) Café
How to Run a (Murder) Café

30 views1 subscriber

Celeste's job as the nighttime manager for the Black Cat Café may be more than she bargained for. As a new face in Radiant City, she's underprepared for her nights of coffee, cyborgs, and criminals. If she hopes to survive and carve out a life for herself in this strange new city, she'll need to learn how to go toe-to-toe with the city's underworld - and fast.
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18 episodes

Chapter One

Chapter One

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