The Black Cat was an old-style establishment that sat on a strip of road filled with privately owned shops. Across from it was a family-run Thai restaurant, smoke shop, and bookstore.

On the side of the road with the Black Cat was a boba tea shop that had apparently gone out of business recently — maybe the two had been in competition, and the winner had been decided — and an adult toy store. And there was a church two blocks away.

Everything a person needs in one little area.

The Black Cat’s sign was decorated by neon tubes formed in the shape of the titular mascot, whose tail was set on a machine that allowed it to wag slowly back and forth. The cat itself shone gray, but the eyes were a deep orange.

Celeste drew in a deep breath and approached the café. The door was locked, and when she pulled on it, the three employees inside stiffened a bit. Otherwise, they pretended not to hear her pull on the door. She pulled out the key the previous manager had sent to her when she’d accepted the job, and slipped inside.

The smell of sweet coffee embraced her, wrapping its warm, loving arms around her shoulders and tugging her gently inside. God, she hadn’t realized how much she missed the smell of coffee until now! Already, it felt like she’d found a little piece of home.

A short, pale brunette stepped out of the back office, located behind the counter. The three workers turned to nod cordially at the brunette, but said nothing. Their eyes never wavered from their tasks — cleaning the counter top, counting down the register. They remained silent through the process.

“Are you the day manager?” Celeste asked. The woman’s name tag read: RANIA.

Rania extended one long, bony hand to her. Celeste shook it, surprised by the strength behind the woman’s grip.

Or is it just that my own hand is shaking that damned much, Rania’s feels firm in comparison?

“You must be the new hire,” Rania surmised. Her words were short and clipped. Celeste thought she heard the remnants of a Russian accent. Rania looked her up and down, from her eyes to her shoes. Celeste winced. She probably looked a mess still, but the hiring manager had told a uniform would be waiting in the front office.

“Yes. I’m Celeste. I wanted to stop by a little early so I can introduce myself, see who I’ll be workin’ with.”

“Oh,” Rania said with a short, haughty breath, “nobody is on with you. But that’s talk for later. Keep the nighttime and daytime affairs separate, Celeste. For everyone’s safety.”

“That makes sense,” Celeste agreed.

Officially the Black Cat was only open from 6 AM - 8 PM. Unofficially, it opened again from 10 PM - 12 AM to cater to Radiant City’s underworld.

The shop’s setup, at first glance, was like any other: the counter to the right, a small case filled with pastries. Circular tables to the right, a wall filled with pictures of hands holding beans, evoking the sense that the workers were happy to slave away to get them. A thin plastic tube ran along the baseboard, casting a soft orange glow up the walls. It was warm and inviting.

The employees stood by the counter, like soldiers at attention. Rania met them there. Her eyes jumped from one detail to another, spot-checking the establishment, but Celeste couldn’t tell what she was looking for.

“Good work,” Rania said. “Have a safe night, everyone. Dismissed.”

They hurried out, and only one of them paused long enough to give Celeste a courteous nod. Moments later, three separate pairs of headlights came to life outside and cut through the darkness, disappearing down the main road.

“They left fast. Does workin’ with you suck that much,” Celeste joked, hoping to lighten the mood, “or is it just really that dangerous around here?”

Rania huffed through her nostrils. Celeste got the impression that this was the closest she’d get to a laugh.

So much for lightening the mood.

“A bit of both, perhaps,” Rania answered. And then she waved her over to the far wall. They stopped in front of a wooden merchandise shelf filled with bags of beans and cute novelty mugs. Rania leaned against the side of the case and began to push.

Instead of revealing a bare wall, a windowless swinging door sat in the revealed space.

Celeste blinked. “What in fresh hell? This is like somethin’ from a Saturday mornin’ cartoon…”

“Do you watch cartoons, still, Celeste?”

Celeste stiffened. She looked over at Rania, who was appraising her once again with that same critical look.

“N-no. Just rememberin’ something from my childhood.”

“Hm. I see.”

Rania opened the door and stepped inside, flicking on the light just as Celeste crossed the threshold.

The room smelled like…nothing. Nothing at all. Not coffee or alcohol, not dust or cleaning solutions. The room was circular, with warm lighting, rather than the neon that permeated the rest of the café. It was roughly the size of a small living room, with a circular table sat in the center and a dozen chairs placed around its perimeter.

A giant roll of plastic tarp sat in one corner, and a mop and bucket in the other. Aside from that, the only thing of note was what appeared to be a garbage chute built into the wall.

Celeste was just as confused as she was awed. “What is this?”

“This is the meeting room,” Rania answered. “It’s where our evening customers will conduct the majority of their business. You won’t be stepping foot in here until the end of your shift, not even if someone asks you to. The chute goes off-site, where the bodies are collected and discarded. Don’t ask how or by whom. That is the owner’s concern.”

Celeste pulled at her collar. Cleared her throat. “Oh, r-right. That…makes sense, I guess. But how often does that actually happen?”

Rania gave her a sideways look. It felt as though her eyes were flogging her every time Celeste opened her mouth. Like every word she said was somehow wrong.

“Do you know what this place is called?” Rania asked. “What did you expect happened back here? Tickle fights?”

Celeste shook her head. “No, I just — er, I’ve never deal with a body before. Do you have any tips? I mean, I guess what I’m trying to ask is — how do you deal with it? The work, I mean.” Celeste sighed, frustrated. “Am I being clear? I feel like I ain’t.”

“You are not,” Rania snorted. “You are as clear as the wall behind you. Do you really have what it takes to do this job, Celeste? I wonder if they made the right call in hiring you.”

Celeste’s nostrils flared. “I can do the damn job. I’m just askin’ questions, is all.”

“Yes, but very stupid ones. You are an outsider, correct? New to the city. New to the job. New to seeing a body. Like a surgeon who’s never held a scalpel and now needs to operate on a brain. I am wondering why you were chosen, of all people.”

Rania made a disgusted sound from the back of her throat. “I may as well get the applications together. You will not last through the night.”

Celeste clenched her teeth. Her eyes watered. “I will,” she said. Her voice shook like a leaf. She would prove Rania wrong. “I’ll do just fine tonight. Just need a few pointers, that’s all. I ain’t go nowhere else to go. I have to do fine tonight.”

Rania’s eyes narrowed. Once more, she looked Celeste up and down, from head to toe.

“What?” Celeste snapped. “Quit lookin’ at me like I’m some piece of meat or somethin’! Got something more to say? Just say it!”

But Rania merely shrugged. She flicked off the light and shut the door.

“Do not feel sympathy for them,” she said as she began to walk toward the counter. “They’re all criminals.”

She had not moved the bookcase back in place. Instead, she cast an expectant look at Celeste.

Celeste understood the message. This was her job, now.

The bookcase slid easily back into place. Hairline grooves were built into the floor, hardly visible in the shadow cast by the case.

“Anything else I should know?” Celeste pressed. “Things to avoid, maybe? Like, this guy or that gal doesn’t like their drinks too sweet, or anything like that?”

Rania waved a hand. “Our patrons will tell you these things. Behind the counter, please. I want to wrap up your training as quick as possible, so I need you to keep up while I go over the rules.”

“Wrap up? We only just started,” Celeste protested as she joined Rania behind the counter.

Rania shrugged again. It seemed to be her favorite thing to do. “Radiant City moves fast,” she said in a tone that was maddeningly matter-of-fact. “You need to move faster, or get left behind.”

Rania pulled out several coffee bags and other bottles, including absinthe. She pointed at a list of recipes hidden behind the counter.

"I will not teach you the recipes. There is not enough time. Instead, there are three rules you need to follow,” Rania began. “Rule number one, every establishment has: keep the customer satisfied at all times. That means taking their order and fulfilling it like you would anywhere else.”

Celeste nodded. “’Course. Easy enough.”

But as Rania opened a small fridge to show her where they kept the milk, she gave her a critical look. “There is nothing easy about it. Your life depends on following this rule.”

Celeste blanched. “R-right. Keep the customer satisfied. Got it. Anything else?”

"Rule number two: do not take anyone up on an offer to meet somewhere. Doesn't matter if it's before work, after work, or to church. Do not go. Your life depends on it."

Again, Celeste nodded. “Too broke to go anywhere, anyway. And I don’t think running a Murder Café puts me in the Lord’s good graces.”

"How unfortunate. Rule number three, and I cannot stress this enough — we're a neutral party. You're a neutral party. If you make small talk with the patrons, don't share any details. Not even something as small as someone's kid getting sick. Your life — ”

“Depends on it,” Celeste finished for her.

Rania nodded. “And theirs,” she added. “You will be surprised by what tiny details turn out to be the difference between life and death.”

“Got it. Mind if I take point in talkin’ to the customers tonight? I know it’s my first night, but I wanna get the hang of it quick.”

Rania lifted an eyebrow. “Of course you’ll be taking point. Who else would do it?”

“Well…I mean, I assumed you’d want to show me how. But I learn better by doin’ things, rather than watching ‘em done.”

“Ah. Clearly, you do not learn by listening, either. What did I say about keeping daytime and nighttime affairs separate?”

Celeste stared at her as the meaning behind her words began to register.

“W-wait. That’s…it?” Celeste cried. “You just give me a few rules, point out where the fridge is, and that’s all the training I get?! You said I could get killed tonight!”

“And you can,” Rania replied simply, as though they were talking about the weather, “if you ignore follow the rules. That’s far more important than messing up any order.”

Rania glanced outside and frowned. “They’re beginning to arrive.” Her nonchalant demeanor dissipated. Her voice tightened. “I should leave. Good luck, Celeste. You will need it. And I do hope to see you clock in tomorrow.”

Leave?! What the hell! She barely told me anything at all!

“I…but…”

But before Celeste could cry out in protest, Rania was out the front door and out of sight. It was as disheartening as it was impressive. Celeste had never seen anyone move so fast before!

Moments later, her car sped down the road. Others waited patiently in the parking lot.

It was almost time to open. Celeste’s heart skipped a beat. Her hands trembled.

Shit, shit, these people are going to KILL me! Keep it together, Celeste — just pull yourself together. Deep breaths…

Celeste hurried to the cramped back office. As promised, a simple skirt, heels, and vest awaited her. She changed her clothes and hurried back up to the front.

She flipped two switches beneath the counter. The orange glow inside the café died and was replaced by a deep purple one. Suddenly, the darkness outside turned purple as well, and Celeste sat a handful of shadowy faces illuminated by the LED lights.

Men and women of every size and color, most wearing professionally cleaned and custom-tailored business suits. Some wearing outfits that told her they belonged to the night life. Many with eyes that glowed an unnatural golden color, not unlike Nancy’s.

Cyborgs. Lots of them. Criminals. All of them.

Celeste gulped. One more switch, and the doors unlocked. Celeste put on a nervous smile.

“Welcome,” she said as the city’s demons flooded the café, “to the Black Cat.”

Her first shift at the Murder Café had begun.