Snippet #2144973

Two dead blondes two dead blondes dead blondes blonde blonde.

"I'm blonde..." she whispered to no one in particular. She snuggled against her brother, Galen's chest. "You know, it was recently discovered research causes Cancer in rats." Smiling contentedly, Alina wrapped her arms around the man. "You'll protect me, won't you? Mmm... When did you dye your hair black? Is that cologne?" Alina stiffened, slowly winding her head up to look into light brown eyes. She gawked in fear or embarrassment, she wasn't sure.

Hadrian Douwell.

What she felt every time she saw the senior staff member was hard to describe. It was half fangirl crush and half run-for-your-bloody-life fear.

Alina gradually creaked her head away, facing forwards and away from Hadrian. There was an ice pack on her blonde head as her green eyes stayed frozen wide in complete shock. I'm sitting on Hadrian Douwell. Alina wasn't sure if she should cry or die of bliss. It felt like sitting on a celebrity. No, it was sitting on Angel Gabriel himself. More like Hades.

But hotter.

"D-D-Do we sell human meat?" she asked, staring down at her lap like it held the secrets to the world. She feared the senior staff's answer. How did she get herself into a cannibalistic cafe? Where did they get the humans from? Ex-employees they'd fired? The effort it took to hold her head and think made her dizzy - I'm going to be sick. Alina plonked her head back, her soft hair resting back on the tall man. If I'm going to die, I might as well die happy.

Outside
George eyed the green haired man wearily. He was easily several heads taller than the man but Albus had a strange air of power around him. "Listen here squeaker." The large man flinched, a vein pulsing on his forehead.

"I saw what you did there and quite frankly I don't like the staff of my favorite cafe being harrassed by anyone besides me. So if you ever try that again I promise that you'll end up in a situation that not even the soul of Judas would trade Hell for. As for that," the green haired man pointed at George's hand. "That belongs to me now. So I would watch yourself for now on. Have a nice meal."

"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about," his high pitched voice squawked. "I'm not harassing anyone. I'm placing an order. It's a pity you're not blonde."

George looked away, sticking his nose up like a small child. She needed two dead blondes to replace the two blonde corpses he'd lost. George was a funeral director, you see. Sure, blondes looked different but he'd asked for help from a local magician. He'd said as long as they were blonde, he could make them look as if they were the two fresh corpses he'd lost. As for how he'd lost the bodies - it was a long story.

The magician had suggested he go to Crave - apparently the staff here did all sorts of weird jobs and they never questioned their customers. They didn't care why as long as they were paid. George could work with that. The small blonde waitress seemed quite shell shocked, though. He wondered if the other staff would kill her since she was such a convenient head of hair.