Double Date

Outside my window there is a graveyard, the happiest place in the world.

I have been looking into Buddhist teachings lately. To be enlightened is to be free of this mortal coil, and to become free of suffering. It is interesting that the creatures I discuss all offer their own form of nirvana.

A little more than a week ago, our leader woke up to find a post-it note stuck to his mirror. On it were the twin triangles and a simple code.

qdqdzmz nds ji ocz xgjxf ojhjmmjr wmdib orj

Our leader isn’t much of an intellectual (my apologies, Hermes), so the code was brought to me to decipher. It a simple Caesar Cipher, and I had the real message in my hands quickly enough.

viviere six on the clock tomorrow bring another

We were, at the time, in Chicago. I couldn’t help but laugh when I read it – it appeared that the Archangel had invited us to dinner. As I was the only one in the room, Hermes told me to have my best coat and left. The next day we met in front of the Viviere and went in.

“Hello, do you have a reservation?” the man at the front asked, looking warily at Hermes and his moth-eaten grey business suit.

“They’re with me,” said a thin-faced man in a considerably fancier suit than Hermes’. I was lead to a table, and the thin-faced man whisked Hermes to another part of the restaurant. I surveyed the other people at the table. The one next to me was in a red sweater, leaning backwards and looking sullen. He looked to be in his early twenties, with short black hair and small bags starting to form under his eyes. Across from me was an elderly woman, white hair shining oddly in the dim light. Then, next to her, was a middle-aged woman who looked to be on the verge of tears.

“What’s all this about, then?” I asked, picking up my menu and surveying it in a vain attempt to look casual.

“Just a meeting, looks like. I don’t know why they wanted spares... or psycho cultists who don’t know shit, but, you know, not judging,” the sullen behoodied one drawled.

“Please, we’ve just met,” I replied. “My name is Thoth*, it’s a pleasure to meet all of you.”

“Jacob,” the sullen one said, rubbing his hand against his cheek like he was used to something being there and kept forgetting that it wasn’t. “Does that mean I get to tell you how sick you are later, Timberwolf?”

“I certainly hope so,” I said dully, studying the elderly woman’s hair. That’s it, I thought, it’s wet. “Am I to presume that you are a Camper?”

“Yes. In addition, I have identified Jacob as a proxy of the Slender Man, and the terrified woman next to me is a servant of the Smiling Man.”

“Haven’t heard of that last one before,” Jacob grumbled. “How many are there, now...?”

The Camper paused, and then slowly said “Unknown.”

“Yeah, what good are you, then,” Jacob said. “You, with the flowers! Where the fuck did your boss come from?”

The middle-aged woman made a kind of choked squeaking noise, looking down to see a rose pin on her jacket. She tore it off and put it on the table, looking at it as if it was going to attack her at any moment. Jacob started laughing, a high-pitched grating giggle that made me want to stick my dinner utensils in my ears. He picked up the pin and pocketed it.

We slowly became familiar with one another, ordering wine and swapping stories while our superiors spoke. It took a long while, but I eventually became comfortable. But alas, all good things come to an end, and we parted ways considerably more drunk (sans the Camper, who remained dead serious throughout the entire dinner).

Jacob was found dead the next day, torn apart at the waist and stuffed with roses. It’s like a Christmas truce – you may have a friend on the other side, but it’s inevitable that the situation will get out of your hands. It is better to simply wait in our trenches and wait for the war to end.

*I said my real name, which I will not be repeating here.