The scent of sizzling meat and freshly baked buns drifted through the cafe like an invisible thread, pulling hungry customers toward it the moment they stepped inside.
Just opening the front door was enough to make your mouth water. Most people couldn't help but head straight to the nearest table to get something—anything—into their stomachs.
"I'll have the spaghetti meatballs, a cheeseburger, and a chocolate milkshake, please."
"And I'll take the pancakes with maple syrup."
Not bad choices, really.
The spaghetti comes drenched in a thick, flavorful sauce, each meatball juicy and tender. And that cheeseburger? Melted cheese oozing over perfectly seasoned beef.
Once you take the first bite, there's no turning back. You're locked in until the very last forkful.
Hi. I'm Rosie. I work front-of-house here at Crazy Rose Cafe. I've been helping out since before I can remember, so I guess you could say I've seen a thing or two.
What I'm about to tell you happened just a couple of weeks ago.
We had just gotten a job request—from a company called The Precept Purifiers. Weird name, right? But Max, my uncle (also the cafe manager), was the one who brought them in.
Honestly? I almost said it out loud—how hiring them felt like the dumbest idea we'd ever had. They sounded like those frauds from horror movies. The kind that wave incense around and "banish evil" while collecting a check. Total scam.
Worse still, they wanted to rent out our third floor to set up their office and live there. Seriously.
But then… I read the forum threads. The ones about us.
And yeah—I swallowed my complaints right then and there.
We work hard here. We pour our hearts into every dish. All we want is for people to love this place—to come in, enjoy their food, and leave happy.
We didn't sign up to become a cursed cafe.
We didn't sign up to have people posting stories online calling us a haunted hotspot—even if our food is incredible.
So we made a decision.
Whatever it was, it wasn't going to get to our customers anymore.
Crazy Rose Cafe is meant to leave a lasting impression—sure—but not the kind that ends up in whispered ghost stories or TikTok videos about urban legends.
And honestly? These days, our place is just as infamous for "mysterious disappearances" and "suspicious food poisoning" as it is for our signature rose milkshake.
A few days later, Uncle Max told us he'd found help.
That strange little company with no storefront.
And that's when they showed up—Annie and Am. Two slibing. Both strange in their own way.
Their first request?
"To be seated at the most hidden, out-of-sight corner of the cafe."
The table they chose was tucked in the farthest corner of the cafe, right next to the staircase leading to the third floor—an area usually off-limits to customers.
Unless, of course, they were the kind we never wanted to see again.
Annie wore a dark purple leather jacket that matched her soft lavender hair and violet-colored eyes. A skull-shaped pin glinted from the lapel of her coat.
Am, on the other hand, had on a faded gray hoodie over a blue T-shirt printed with a cartoon black cat. Her hair was messy—like someone who'd just rolled out of bed.
But it was her eyes…
Her eyes looked like they were listening to something no one else could hear.
At a glance, the two of them could've passed for any regular high school boy and girl—nothing about them really stood out. They blended in with the rest of society perfectly.
But the way they spoke to each other?
That's what made them strange.
"Do you smell that?" Annie whispered, eyes narrowing. "Like… there's a kind of meat in the soup that shouldn't be there."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a peculiar-looking device. It resembled a portable radio, but its antennas curved and twisted like antlers.
"Don't scan yet. Not when people are watching," Am murmured, barely moving her lips. She lifted the menu to cover her face.
"If it notices us too soon, it'll come out faster than it should."
"You see that staff in green uniform by the counter?"
"Yeah. It hasn't blinked once since we walked in…"
I stood behind the counter, polishing a glass I'd already cleaned three times. Pretending to look busy—while secretly eavesdropping.
These two weren't normal customers. That much was clear.
Suddenly, Am stood up.
She walked to the counter and gave me a harmless-looking smile.
"One stack of pancakes with rose syrup and a special rose milkshake, please."
I nodded, giving the signal to the kitchen. But I knew—
She wasn't here for dessert.
Her other hand was already slipping something beneath the counter. A sensor, maybe.
At that exact moment, Annie's scanner lit up. Red.
Before we could serve the first dish, the green-uniformed staff began to move.
Not in the way a human body should—
Its joints twisted in angles no bones should allow.
Annie reached for the butter knife on the table—
She wasn't planning to cut pancakes with it.
Am traced a circle on her coaster.
A thin disc of metal, hidden beneath it, began to glow.
And just like that—
The cat-and-mouse game inside Crazy Rose Café began once more.