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Daniel Molloy was perfectly sane. He was. It's just that there was a literal monster in his coffee shop.
Well, it wasn't his coffee shop, he didn't own it or anything, he was just working nights there until he found his next story. He had to pay rent and buy cigarettes somehow. But, the thing was, he might have actually found his next story inside the goddamn coffee shop.
It started pretty soon after he started working there. Some redheaded kid walked in and ordered a large hazelnut latte.
"Aren't you a little young to be drinking coffee?" Daniel said.
The teen's big brown eyes locked onto Daniel. "I'm older than you."
This had Daniel laughing outright. "No way."
"Are you going to make me my coffee or do I have to speak to someone else?" There was no malice in his voice, or even annoyance, which was odd in and of itself. Unsettled, Daniel started making the latte. The kid paid with a bunch of crumpled bills that he placed on the counter without looking at them, and when Daniel tried to give him change he stared at the money in his hands for a moment before dropping all of it uncertainly into the tip jar.
Then the kid, who gave his name as Armand, didn't even drink the coffee. He just stood around the shop, watching people, and occasionally smelling his drink. When not lifting the mug to his face he held it close to his chest like he was trying to trap in the warmth. Which wouldn't be weird if it wasn't still basically summer. And yeah, it got kinda cold when the sun was down, but not that cold. Armand held the coffee mug until it was room temperature then gave it back to Daniel and left.
Still, Daniel probably would have forgotten Armand if he hadn't come back the next night.
Now, Armand wasn't wearing anything outrageous the first time he showed up, even if the black blazer, white dress shirt, and black slacks did look slightly too big for him. But it was out of place enough on someone so young that Daniel remembered it. So when he walked in wearing the same clothes only wrinkled like he'd slept in them Daniel noticed.
Armand ordered a large hazelnut latte again and again stood around smelling it until the warmth had faded. Now, all of this could be explained by Armand being a runaway, and likely some flavor of crazy, except for the fact that he wasn't drinking the coffee. Why wasn't he drinking the coffee?
The third night, Armand was wearing different clothes, still ill-fitting. But Daniel didn't take note of what exactly he wore because he was too busy noticing that Armand's hair was about a foot longer than it had been yesterday, and it didn't look like extensions.
Armand walked up to the counter and ordered a large hazelnut latte.
"Uh," Daniel said. "What's up with your hair?"
Armand reached up and grabbed at a handful of his loose curls. "What do you mean?"
"It's longer."
"I didn't feel like cutting it."
What the fuck did that mean? Whatever. Fine. Daniel made the latte.
The next night when Armand pulled the loose cash out of his pocket and placed it on the counter, there was a ring of keys with it. Armand unceremoniously picked them out of the pile of bills and tossed them in the trash.
It was at that point that Daniel knew Armand had a story.
On night six Daniel had the large hazelnut latte ready and waiting when Armand walked through the door.
"It's slightly colder than normal," Armand said as he picked it up. His hair was short tonight. "Don't do this again."
Daniel closed his eyes and huffed. He'd made the coffee no more than two minutes before Armand got there. "Fine. So, Armand, I have a question, well more than one. I want to interview you."
Armand stood frozen mid-inhale with his slightly colder latte halfway to his face.
"Well?" Daniel said after a minute.
"I just realized you know my name."
"Uh, yeah? You tell it to me every night when you order."
"I know, but I didn't realize. No living person has ever said my name before."
What. The. Fuck.
"So, uh, the interview?"
Armand blinked. "I had better let the other customers place their orders." He set the coffee mug back on the counter and walked out of the store. There wasn't a line behind him.
Three nights passed with no Armand and Daniel assumed that he would never see the weirdo again, but then he showed back up.
He was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, slightly baggy on him, and his hair was long again. Once he ordered his usual large hazelnut latte he broke routine though.
The shop was even less busy than it usually was at that time of night, so Armand didn't have as many people to watch. At least, Daniel assumed that was why Armand started talking to him.
At first he just stared, but eventually he broke the uneasy silence. "That coffee machine, how does it work?"
"Uh, I don't know."
"You don't? But what do you do if it needs repairs?"
"I don't know, man, I just work here."
"Well, at least show me how to use it. Make me another latte."
Armand always said the word latte with a weird accent, like he defaulted to Italian instead of English. Daniel was itching to ask where he was from. But for now he shelved his questions and walked Armand through how to make his drink of choice. Maybe it'd earn him a favor he could call in for that interview.
Armand watched with keen interest as Daniel made his second mug of coffee, then took it from him and held both mugs close to his chest.
"I gotta ask, why don't you drink the coffee?"
"I don't enjoy the taste," Armand said simply.
"Then why do you order it?"
"The warmth. And I do enjoy the smell of hazelnut."
"No, I mean, why not order something you actually like the taste of?"
Armand laughed loudly enough that the one other customer currently in the shop turned to look at him, startled. "Oh, you don't sell that here. Absolutely not."
Daniel was going to ask what Armand meant by that, but there was something in Armand's eyes that put him on edge and he decided to shut up.
The following night was unusually busy and Daniel kept fucking up people's orders because he was distracted by Armand staring at him like a creep the entire time it took for the latte to grow cold. There was something in that stare that reminded Daniel unpleasantly of a cat about to pounce on a particularly appealing bug.
The night after that, Daniel took a smoke break as soon as Armand showed up. He lingered outside until he was pretty sure Armand would be gone. But as soon as he got back behind the counter there was Armand handing him back the tepid coffee.
"Please schedule your breaks for another time of night," Armand said as Daniel took the mug. "My drink grows cold faster outside."
Daniel had not seen anyone else outside, nor had he seen Armand leave and return.
By night fifteen Armand had started questioning Daniel relentlessly no matter how busy the shop was. And it wasn't normal small talk either, Armand wanted to talk about philosophy and history and death and technology. Daniel felt almost like he was expected to study before Armand's nightly visits, except he never knew what the test would be on.
One night the conversation that had started off about if Daniel knew how film projectors worked (no) evolved into if Daniel had seen Live and Let Die (yes) and how many times Armand had seen it in theaters (47).
"How many times have you read the book?" Daniel asked out of idle curiosity.
Armand's face lit up. "It's based on a book? Where can I acquire it?"
"A bookstore?"
"And where is the nearest one?"
"I don't know, man, look it up in the phone-book."
"What's a phone book?"
"Hey," the customer at the counter interrupted. "Are you gonna stop talking to this spaz any time soon so I can get my goddamn coffee?"
"Oh shit," Daniel said, turning back to the register. "Sorry, didn't see you there."
Armand then marched over to the man and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey!" Daniel exclaimed, not wanting to be part of the world's first bar fight to take place in a coffee shop. But Armand ignored him and addressed the man.
"You will leave now and not return to this place tonight."
To Daniel's surprise, the man simply nodded and walked out. "Uh, what did you just do to him?" he asked Armand.
"Focus, Daniel," Armand chided. "You were about to explain to me what a phone book is."
The next night is when Daniel really started to freak out. Because he had recognized the guy who'd pissed off Armand. He was a regular. And he always wore the same old beat up leather jacket with a worn patch on the left shoulder. And when Armand walked in that next night, he was wearing that jacket.
Daniel did not mention it, because he was starting to think Armand might be actually planning to kill him.
It took a little over a week after that for Daniel to be able to get someone to cover his shift so he could follow Armand after he left the coffee shop.
Daniel tried to slip out of the shop as covertly as possible, and stay far enough behind Armand as he walked that Armand at least wouldn't be able to recognize him if he turned around. After about two blocks of walking Armand turned a corner into a dead-end alley approximately ten seconds ahead of Daniel. When Daniel turned the same corner, however, he found himself alone. Thoroughly creeped out, Daniel decided to make his way back to his apartment and try again another night.
When he got there, he found a note sitting on his kitchen table. It would have blended in with the junk mail that usually lived on his kitchen table, except that had all been meticulously organized and moved to his coffee table. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Daniel read the note.
Daniel Molloy,
I would like to thank you for the conversations we've shared over the past several weeks, and I do hope you don't do anything that forces me to abandon my fun, it's been many years since I had anyone to talk to and I would hate to have to go through the hassle of finding another coffee shop.
All the warmest regards,
Armand.
Daniel did not sleep that night, or the following day. He considered not showing up to the coffee shop and simply leaving town. Or leaving California. Or the country. But he was worried that his playing along with Armand's "fun" was the only thing keeping him alive. So he went to his job, he waited for Armand, he made him a large hazelnut latte, and he listened to him talk.
Mentally, he made notes of what he knew about Armand.
One. Armand didn't like coffee. Two, he almost never talked to anyone other than Daniel while in the shop, and Daniel had a feeling from Armand's lack of basic conversation skills that it was the same outside of the shop too. Three, he probably stole his clothes and his money. Four, he lacked common knowledge of anything modern. Five, he liked warmth and the smell of hazelnut. Six, he'd been in Daniel's apartment. Seven, the regular he'd shooed out of the shop never came back. Eight, whatever the hell was up with his hair.
All of this added up to fuck all, of course, so that just left Daniel scared to be alone, scared to go home, and half-convinced he was going to die. So, if he had nothing to lose, he might as well do something stupid.
Armand was staring at the coffee maker like he wanted to dissect it, which was nothing new, when Daniel finally worked up the nerve to interrupt his long rambling speech about a new digital watch he'd "found" the previous evening.
"Okay," Daniel said. "I want to ask you one question a night, and you have to tell me the truth."
Armand turned his gaze to Daniel and narrowed his eyes. "Or what?"
"I don't know… If you lie to me, I'll lie to you, deal?"
Armand looked deeply offended at the possibility that Daniel would lie to him. "Okay," he answered warily. "And if I should refuse to answer?"
"Then I refuse to answer your questions."
"A clever strategy. Very well, ask your question of the night."
Daniel thought for a moment, he hadn't been prepared to get this far. "How old are you?" That seemed simple enough for now.
"What year is it?" Armand responded.
"… 1973. Okay, never mind, changing my question. Why don't you know what year it is?"
Armand sighed. "I lost track of current events some time ago when my companion and I parted ways."
"And yet you know exactly when the movie Wicker Man will be in theaters."
"I am always aware of events that could incite the wrath of Druids, Daniel, it's simply how I was raised. But I see your point. Recently I have begun to re-enter the world, as it were, and I have our conversations to thank for my ability to understand the modern era."
"What do you mean—"
"No. That was your one question for tonight. Now you will listen as I finish talking about my new watch."
It went on like this for weeks.
"Why do you only come here at night?"
"It's when I'm awake."
"Where do you sleep?"
"In a basement."
"Where are you from?"
"Kiev, then Venice."
"How do you get your money?"
"Theft."
"Do you need help?"
"No."
"Why do you even come here?"
"To learn. And to see you."
Each answer raised more questions and Daniel was losing his patience. "What are you?" he asked one day, letting his frustration get the better of him.
Armand froze mid inhale. "I… I can't answer that. Not here."
"Okay…"
"You'll have to follow me."
Daniel was going to protest that he couldn't just leave in the middle of his shift before he remembered that he had today off and had only come in to see Armand. If anything his boss was more likely to fire him for being behind the counter tonight than for leaving. This just left one problem, an obvious killer of doubtful humanity was asking Daniel to go to a secondary location. "Follow you where?"
"I'm going to show you where I sleep."
A secondary location that involved a creepy basement.
Daniel took a moment to consider if the risk of death was worth finding out the truth or if he could live with this mystery for the rest of his days. Then he sighed, took off his apron, and followed Armand out the door.
They walked in silence for a while as Daniel grew more and more worried for his safety.
"Don't worry," Armand said eventually, making Daniel jump in surprise. "I'm not going to kill you."
"Oh, uh, I wasn't—"
"Don't try to deny it, Daniel. Your anxious thoughts are very distracting."
This was not reassuring to Daniel.
"Although, you are smart to be afraid."
Daniel thought his heart might burst out of his chest from how fast it was beating. Then Armand took hold of Daniel's hand, and Daniel thought his heart might have stopped beating altogether. Armand's skin was cold and smooth and felt so different from normal skin that it took Daniel a minute to realize that he and Armand were now holding hands.
"Um…" Daniel started.
"We've arrived," Armand said with a gesture to the condemned abandoned house in front of them.
"Aren't they going to tear this place down in like a week?" Daniel asked.
"Yes. After tonight I will have to look for a new place to spend the daylight hours."
Armand led Daniel to the front door and Daniel distinctly heard the click of a lock turning, but when Armand opened the door there was no one inside. When they got to the door leading down to the basement the same thing happened and Daniel hesitated at the entrance. Armand still had hold of his hand though, and gave an insistent pull that had Daniel almost stumbling.
Daniel did not know what he expected to find in the basement but he was most surprised at the fact that the lights still worked when Armand flipped the switch. The sudden illumination revealed that the basement was completely empty except for a single coffin.
"Open it," Armand told him.
Daniel stood frozen in fear until Armand took his hand again and pulled him forward until he stood right in front of the coffin. Daniel took a shaky breath, it looked like he had no choice. He reached down and lifted the heavy coffin lid. The inside was empty except for a pair of hair scissors, a roughly handled book, and a half dozen digital watches.
Daniel turned to look at Armand. "I don't get it."
Armand smiled. It showed the long sharp fangs that had suddenly appeared in his mouth. "I'm showing you what I am."
Daniel backed away quickly and clumsily until he hit the basement wall. Armand started walking towards him.
"Y-You said you weren't going to kill me!"
"And I'm not. But I must admit that for some time now I've been tempted to have a taste of you, my beautiful boy."
Daniel whimpered.
"Hush now. There's no need to be afraid, it won't hurt."
"Don't come any closer! Stop! Please!"
Armand did stop, but only once he was mere inches away. "Daniel, calm down. Take a deep breath."
Daniel didn't know why, but he did as he was told and pulled as much air as he could into his lungs then let it all out.
"Do you feel better now?" Armand asked. He raised a hand to Daniel's face and Daniel flinched away from him. Armand dropped his hand to Daniel's shoulder.
The weight of his touch was comforting and Daniel was grateful for it despite himself.
"There you go," Armand said soothingly as he ran his fingers through Daniel's hair and rested them on the back of his neck. "I've got you. Just relax." Armand gently guided Daniel forward. "Rest your head here on my shoulder."
"Why are you doing this?" Daniel asked.
Armand smiled again, Daniel could hear it in his voice. "Because I love you." He pressed his face into the side of Daniel's neck and inhaled deeply.
Daniel shivered, and honestly it wasn't entirely from fear. Here was an inhuman monster, a killer, who said that he loved Daniel. This being holding him gently could probably crush his skull with little more than a thought. That excited him, the power, the danger, the going against everything normal and proper.
"Have you calmed down?"
"Yeah," Daniel breathed out.
"And are you ready, beloved?"
Fuck it. Why not? "Yes."
Armand brought his mouth to Daniel's throat. There were two small pinpricks and then—
Oh.
He felt warm and loved and seen. It was as though a perfect blissful understanding had come over him as he floated on the edges of consciousness. When Armand pulled away Daniel had tears in his eyes and was begging him not to stop. Armand brought his hands up to gently hold Daniel's face. He dragged his tongue across the point of one of his fangs as Daniel watched with wide eyes. Then he leaned forward again and pressed his mouth to Daniel's in a fevered kiss. Daniel moaned as Armand's blood burned its way through him. He felt connected to everything around him and it was as though the essence of life itself was being poured down his throat. Armand broke the kiss and Daniel took a gasping inhale, he hadn't even noticed that he needed to stop to breathe.
A million thoughts ran through Daniel's head as he stared at Armand, but in the end they all came back to one thing. "I love you too."
Armand stroked Daniel's hair as Daniel rested his head on Armand's shoulder again and wrapped his arms around him. "You're mine now," Armand whispered. And Daniel thought that those might have been the truest words ever spoken.