Part Nine of the Inverted AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a fic series I wrote from December 2018 to August 2021. Stacy doesn't expect anything odd to happen at her night shift, but that changes when a strange, familiar-looking man walks in, acting odd. Things quickly go upside-down, and she gets swept up in a fight...with magic.]
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Even though The Dish and Glass was a twenty-four hour diner, it almost never got visitors in the wee hours of the morning. This was something that Stacy knew, having been stuck at that job for nearly three years. When she worked the night shift, she expected that she’d be alone with the chef, spending the whole time worrying about the sitter she’d hired to watch the kids. Not like she expected them to be awake from the hours of midnight to six in the morning, but it was better safe to be sorry, and the sitters she got usually gave her ugly looks for making them stay up so late for nothing.
Of course, after tonight, she would wish the only problem she had was nasty babysitters.
It was two o’clock. Stacy was behind the counter, taking stock of the coffee mugs. She didn’t really have a reason to, but nobody was around to talk to except Richard, the chef, and he was busy in the kitchen doing who knows what. She was bored. The bright lamps overhead shone a monotonous white light down onto the red and white booths and tables. The plate glass window showed the blue-black night outside. The city was dark.
The easy listening music that always played in the diner was broken by the pleasant ding! of the door opening. Stacy was pretty sure her shock was showing on her face. Luckily she was facing away from the entrance, or the customer might’ve noticed it. Then they might’ve told the manager, who might’ve fired her for unprofessional behavior, then she’d be alone and jobless with two kids who absolutely needed the best in life—she shook her head. The manager wasn’t even here, he’d gone out for who knows what; nobody ever told her. And looking shocked wasn’t worth reporting, let alone being fired over. She tried to ease the knot of anxiety as she turned around to face the customer.
“Hello, welcome to the Dish and—” Stacy froze. It couldn’t be no it couldn’t not here no no no—
“Lady, you alright? Didja have a stroke or something?”
Stacy shook herself internally, then plastered a smile on her face. “Of course I’m alright, sir! Welcome to the Dish and Glass, can I get you anything?”
The man shrugged. “Coffee. I can seat myself.”
“Sir, that’s not really our…policy…” Stacy trailed off. He’d already walked away and sat at one of the window booths. Honestly, there was no reason to stop him, what with him being the only one in the entire diner. It wasn’t like she’d lose track of him.
As she busied herself with the coffeepot, Stacy tried her best to stare at the customer without him noticing. The resemblance… it was more than uncanny. If it wasn’t for a few key differences, she could’ve sworn she was staring right at her ex-husband. Same brown hair, same build, same blue eyes—actually, eye. This stranger had only one. Where his right eye should have been, there was an eye-patch, one of those white square ones with four strings instead of two.
Something was…off about him, Stacy decided. She wasn’t sure what it was. He looked ordinary enough. He wore a black t-shirt, blue jeans with holes in the knees, and black tennis shoes. A green scarf was wrapped securely around his throat. He’d worn a ragged black backpack into the diner, but he’d taken it off and put it on the table, where he was now rummaging around inside. Still, despite how utterly normal all of this was…he gave Stacy an uneasy feeling. Maybe it was just the resemblance to HIM that was bothering her.
But she had a job to do. The coffee was ready, piping hot and poured in one of the mugs she’d been counting earlier. She set it on a plate and walked over to the booth where the customer was sitting. Upon catching sight of her, he immediately froze in place like someone had pressed the pause button. Stacy set the coffee on the table, trying to ignore his stare, and asked, “Would you like any cream? Or sugar?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? I mean, we have those available—”
“I don’t need̴. ANYthing.”
Stacy flinched at his sharp tone. “Alright, sir. If you do, just call for me.” She forced herself to calmly turn around and walk at a normal pace back to her spot behind the counter. She could still feel the man staring at her. Had he blinked at all during that entire exchange?
She started fiddling with the cash register. It wasn’t her job to count the change, it was the manager’s. But she pretended to be busy. There was no doubt about it, this guy was giving off a vibe that she wasn’t fond of. She could almost feel it, like static electricity. Or maybe that was just the electric humming from the overhead lights. It was usually there, but Stacy noticed it kicked up. Maybe something was wrong with the wiring? If it broke, would they take the replacement costs from her paycheck?
He was still watching her. She glanced over and saw him sitting unnaturally still, eyes on her. Nope, there was no blinking there at all. Seriously unnerved, Stacy closed up the cash register, double checked that the drawer was secure, then swung open the kitchen door and hurriedly walked through. Richard, the chef, looked up when she entered. He was on his phone. “What’s up? ‘S there a customer?”
“I mean, yeah…he just wanted coffee, though. Now he’s just…sitting there…” Stacy shuddered. “He creeps me out.”
“Really?” Richard strolled over and looked through the tiny round window in the kitchen door. Stacy pushed her head next to his. The man was now rummaging in his backpack again. He pulled something out. “Please tell me that’s not a gun…” Stacy muttered.
“Nah.” Richard squinted. “Looks like a tennis ball or something. Green, round…it’s kinda glowy. Maybe it’s, like, a novelty bouncy ball?”
“He doesn’t seem the type…” Stacy muttered.
“People can be wrong, Stace. Maybe you’re just expecting a creep to walk in at two in the morning, so your brain is tricking you.”
“Maybe…” She was pretty sure her instincts were correct here. The man had stared at her for way too long to be innocent.
“What’s goin’ on here?”
Richard and Stacy jumped, then simultaneously turned around to see Rosa, the manager. She’d just entered through the back door. Now she was staring at her two employees with a combined expression of annoyance and curiosity.
“There’s a, uh, customer here,” Stacy explained. “I was getting a weird feeling from him. Rich says it’s nothing.”
“Let me see.” Rosa pushed her way past them to peer through the porthole. She frowned. “He seems normal enough. That eye-patch is a bit suspicious, but we shouldn’t judge. He order anything?”
“Just coffee.”
“Well, we’ll keep an eye on him. In the mean time Stacy, d’you mind taking out the garbage in the kitchen? It’s overflowing.”
“I, uh, yeah, sure.” Stacy awkwardly backed away from the door, heading out. Picking up the garbage on the way, she couldn’t help but think that it was nowhere near overflowing. But Rosa probably had good reason. She just had to…had to remember that.
She threw the bag from the can into the dumpster in the alley, the dim light from a flickering bulb over the diner’s back door barely allowing her to see. For a split second, she allowed herself to slump. This job…she needed it, but god did it suck. Creepy guy comes in the diner? Let’s keep an eye on him, forget that he makes you uncomfortable. By the way, you still have to serve him.
A small sound came from the ground near her feet. An animal sound…? Stacy looked down and saw a cat curling around her ankles. Mostly black, with a few white spots, including four arranged in an almost perfect diamond on its forehead. It wasn’t a small cat, actually it was fairly big height- and length-wise, but it was so thin. Stacy felt a pang of sympathy for it. “Hey little guy,” she cooed.
The cat gazed up at her with big green eyes. It meowed again. Stacy bent over to pet it, and it leaned against her and purred. A faint smile curled around her lips. Animals weren’t allowed in the diner, nor in the apartment building where she lived with her kids. She missed them. “I wish you could come with me,” she sighed. But already she was worried about Rosa noticing she was taking too long. If she came back into the diner with a cat when that was explicitly against the rules, she’d get another warning. And too many warnings meant losing her job.
Oh well. Sadly, she turned around and looked at the cat again..only for it to turn into a streak of dark fur and zoom past her into the diner. “What the hell!” she cried, darting inside.
“What? What happened?” Rosa asked. She and Richard were cleaning the kitchen counters, probably under the assumption that nobody else was coming.
“There was a stray cat, it-it ran inside,” Stacy explained.
“Oh shit!” Rosa’s eyes widened. “We can’t have dirty strays in here. Richard and I will look for it. You go back out there and attend the customer.”
Stacy almost asked to switch places with one of them, but she didn’t want to push her luck with letting the cat inside. She swallowed her words and pushed through the kitchen door back into the main body of the diner.
“—to do next. I’m thinking we get you to safety. I know a place.”
She froze. In a split second, she took in two things and made two conclusions: 1) the diner was still empty except for that one guy, 2) that one guy was talking to somebody, 3) if there was no one else in the diner then the guy was talking to himself, 4) if the guy was talking to himself then he was crazy and possibly dangerous, though that wasn’t a guarantee, but with the feeling she got from him it probably was. Instinctively, Stacy ducked down so that she was hidden behind the counter. She immediately felt stupid.
“Don’t l͠o͝o̵k̶ at me that way, I can protect it!”
She immediately stopped feeling stupid. That VOICE. That wasn’t…there was something…
Stacy’s attention was caught by the kitchen door easing its way open. The black cat poked its head through. It looked at her and narrowed its eyes in an…almost human way. Then it slipped through the door and headed around the counter and out into the dining area.
The man continued. “You don’t NEED that toxic shit, do ya? Cause I don’t want to turn right back around and scoop up a bucketful. That a no? Alright, we should probably—” Suddenly, he fell silent.
Time seemed frozen. The electric humming in the lights was definitely getting louder. It grew in intensity. Stacy shrank back.
A series of events happened in quick succession. Richard and Rosa burst through the kitchen door, cried out “Where’d the cat—?!” “Who the hell is—?” The overhead lights burst with an electric fritz and glass sprayed everywhere. It was dark for less than a second, then a flash of violet light lit everything up in startling intensity. The light was accompanied by a shock wave, and somehow Stacy was thrown from her hiding spot. She hit her head hard against the edge of a shelf on the other wall, and everything went black.
When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was the sticky, throbbing pain coming from her forehead. She almost groaned, but then she heard the laughing and thought better of it. Her head and limbs were twisted at awkward angles, but she was filled with a weakness and simply couldn’t move them. She opened her eyes. The diner was dark, except for a pulsing green light and a steady purple glow. She couldn’t see much from her spot on the floor, but the kitchen door was ajar and an arm was sticking out. It was surrounded by a puddle of dark liquid.
“ I̴ş ̛̕ţ̨h̸̕a̢҉t͝͡ ̨͞al͏͝l̵̢ ͠҉y͢o̶̶͠u̧͢͠ ҉g̡͠oţ̷͟,̢ ̧̕k̴̨i͡t҉t͞y̛͞ ̶c̨̕a̢̨t?̴”
It sounded like the words were being spoken through a buffering voice call made using a broken app. But the voice itself—the mocking, arrogant voice—was familiar. Stacy finally found the energy to push herself into a kneeling position. Her head was filled with a thick syrup, but the few thoughts that penetrated that syrup were those of curiosity. She crawled over to the counter and peeked over the top.
Someone was standing on one of the tables. Dully, Stacy recognized the scarf a moment before she saw his face. It was the man from before, but… this was impossible. The air around him was fizzing and breaking with distortion, creating shadowy duplicates and an almost glitchy effect. It seemed like the green light was coming from him. He was looking down at the source of the purple light. Another man. He had his back turned to Stacy, so she couldn’t see much… was he wearing a cape? The purple glow was coming from his hands. Stacy thought he must’ve been holding a flashlight or something, but there was no sign of anything like that.
“I have plenty more tricks up my sleeve,” spat another voice. Similar to the glitching man’s but not quite the same. It must’ve been the other one.
“W̛e̕l̸l, ̴I'̴m ͝sur͢e͝ ͞you͠ d̶o͠,” said the one on the table. The distortion increased for a moment as his head cracked to the side, then glitched back into place. He pointed something toward the caped man, and Stacy held back a gasp. Where did he get a knife?! “W̨hy ͠d͟on̶'҉t ͝yo͏u u͢s͏e th̴e͟m? ̕I͞'m sur͝e̵ yo̕u’re j͞u̷s҉t̸ itchin̢g ͏to.̨” A twisted grin. “G͡o ahȩa̶ḑ.͡ I͝ wa҉̧n̵͟͝na͠͠ s҉̶̥̖e̛̦̳̯e̘̹͍̤̠̞̕͞.”
“I—” Stacy could hear the hesitation in the other man’s voice. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to, more like he did want to but knew he shouldn’t. “N-no-not yet. You’re gonna tell me where you hid it. Do you have it? You’re trying to taunt me into blasting it, huh?!”
“Oh̢ ҉ye̵s,͡ th̴at makes p̶̴̡e̢͟r̷̵f͞e̛ct ҉͡ se̸ns͞e̛.” The words were harsh, biting. “C͝o͠ngratul̷at̡i̧ons̛, yo̵u̶'͡ve҉ ̵f̡i͟g̨ure͟d out ̡m̡y p̨lo͞t͡.҉ P͠retend͟ to ̨get̴ ͝t͞ḩem away, only t̶o͝ t͠r̨i҉ck̛ ̸you ͟i̴nt̸o k̶įl̨ling͡ t̷hem̡ ҉yours͞elf. ̵Al͝l ͝t͏h̨is̵ ̡t͞ime͡,̢ ̷I've̢ ̷be̕en̡ a ̢ca͞rto͠on ͢vi͝llai̷n w̧it̵h ̢a͢n ̨el̷ab̢o͞ra̡te ҉s̛che̕m̕e̛.͞ O͡h wai͠t̢,̛ tha͞t’s ҉yo͝u ͟a͏nd̕ y̕ou̕r li̧tt̨l͝e g͡ro҉u҉p͡ of̷ fr̛i͞end̸s.”
A hiss. An honest to god hiss, like a threatened cat. “Oh, we’re the bad guys here, aren’t we?”
“Hm̸m,̸ ͝I do̧n't̴ know. ͡Havę you͏ noti̡ce҉d̨ th͠ȩ ̸w̶a̵l̕ķing̨, talk̷ing͠ evi͠l d͏octǫr̴ ͡tr͝o͠p͝e ҉y̕ou̷ ̵h͢a͏ņg ̡o͠u͏t wi͠t̸h?”
“And how are you any better?”
“I͢͏͖̖͕̯̩̙ ̴̴̨̢̛̝̰̼̥̜ a͡t̸ l̷eas̨t k̨̛͢n͞o̢w͏̧ t̷ha͞t I'̷m fucked̷ ̕i͟n̕ th̢e ͠he͟a̴d.”
The caped man let out a horrible screech. A dark violet energy beam blasted from his hands toward the one on the table. The air crackled, and he was gone. Stacy thought for a second that he was gone, only for him to materialize on a different table on the other side of the diner. He laughed, the same one from before. “W̨ow̴,͞ ̶that̴ ̢di̴d n̕o͠҉t̛h̨̛in̴̨̧g͞!͠”
The caped man turned towards him, and Stacy could just make out his face. Or rather, the mask hiding his face. It was shaped like a cat, and colored black. Four shapes, two red and two white, were in the middle of the mask’s forehead. Creeping out from underneath the mask were lines on the man’s cheeks—scars, Stacy realized. What the hell…?
Another blast of purple energy. Once again, the glitcher dissolved and reappeared on another table. And again, the same result. And again. This time, the man popped into existence standing on the counter, inches away from the spot where Stacy was watching. She exhaled sharply. The man turned his head slightly and looked down. His one visible eye had changed color; its sclera was black and the iris was acid, electric green. Stacy couldn’t help but stare at it. The distortion, the energy blasts, the creepy voice…that kind of shit was only supposed to be in movies and YouTube videos. Yet here it was, impossibly, in real life.
The man’s eye widened slightly, then he looked back to the masked man. “Y̨o͠u g҉on͟na do ̴th̛is̛ ҉forev̧e̡r̴,̡ ̕mag̷ic bo͟y?̷” he jeered. ”P͢lay ͝c̛at an̶d ̧mo͝use̸?”
“Shut up!” Another blast, and Stacy flinched as it passed so close to her. Just as before, the man glitched away. But now he appeared behind the masked man. Before he could react, the glitcher plunged the knife into his backside, quickly withdrawing it. The masked man roared and let out a spray of purple liquid that burned the walls of the diner like acid. It had no effect, as the other one disappeared once more.
“H̢e̛y͏ lady,” a voice whispered in Stacy’s ear. She let out a small squeak, then spun around. The man was crouching right next to her. His eye had gone back to normal, and the distortion seemed to have lessened somehow. “ Y͡ou need to get the f̴u̴ck̡ out of here.”
“Who—how—what—” Stacy stuttered.
“That’s not important. Come on.”
“Wh-wh-what about Rich and Rosa?” she asked.
“Dead. Ripped apart by the shockforce spell.” Then, as an afterthought, “Sorry.”
“I…” Stacy trailed off. They couldn’t be…this couldn’t be real. It was probably just a bad dream. A very realistic bad dream…
“Oh for—there’s no time for shock!” He grabbed her arm. Before she could protest or pull away, he was running around the counter and toward the exit, dragging her behind him. She cried out.
The masked man’s head whipped toward them. “Hey! You aren’t leaving yet!” Stacy looked toward him, only to see a long whip of violet fire snapping toward her. A lashing agony spread through her arm. She screamed and fell. The glitcher instinctively dissolved to avoid the fire, but he reappeared in the same spot as he realized he’d let go of her. He stopped in his tracks and made to grab her again. A shield of purple fire appeared between him and her.
“Alright, fine, if you’re gonna make me do this.” The masked man rolled his eyes. “Tell me where the eye is, and the waitress can live to tell the police about this disaster. Not that they’ll believe her.”
Stacy’s heart stopped. She looked up at the glitcher with pleading eyes. He stared back at her, considering. “W͞hat'͡s yo̸ur g͞ame҉,M͡arv͟in͏?̛” he asked. “If ̸I’m ͠t̢he͠ ͠b̷ad ̸g͡uy,͏ ̶w̢h̷y ͟d̵o͏ ҉y̢o̵u th̶in͢k̨ I’d care?̶”
“Fair point.” The masked man—Marvin—shrugged. “Or, it would be if you hadn’t just fucking stabbed me to get her out. If I believe Jackie, you like to play the long game usually.”
The glitcher nodded, slightly. “A̡lri̕ght̵,̷ I̶'l͡l̸ g͝iv̛e̡ you̧ ͠a ch̷an͝c͠e̢.” He turned to Marvin. “Y͢ou can ha͏v͟e͏ them.̧..if y̕o͝u͝ ͡can̡ ͡ca̢tch t͟h̸em͢!” He threw something. A round, green object sailed through the air, over the counter and through the ajar kitchen door. Marvin cried out, then dashed to follow it. With the loss of his focus, the purple fire wall disappeared. “Come on!” the glitcher hissed to Stacy, then turned and bolted out the door. She scrambled to her feet and ran after him.
The city was still dark. Stacy glanced at her watch: 2:18 a.m. Only a little over ten minutes ago, she’d been idly sorting through the coffee cups, and now she was running from an insane fire-thrower wearing a cat mask, following a guy who could seemingly break the world at will. Her arm was burning. Rosa and Richard were dead. Her world was crashing around her.
She looked up to see the glitcher staring at her. The distortions had entirely disappeared. “Yeah?” he sounded impatient.
“Yeah—yeah what?” she stammered.
“He hit you, didn’t he? With the fire?”
“Um…” Stacy touched her arm. A bit of her uniform was burned away, and the wound was letting out a bit of smoke. “…yeah.”
“Well that sucks,” he said casually. “That’s a black magic burn. It’ll keep burning until either you eventually die somehow or a cure is administered. And that means I gotta take you to my place and fix it.” He sighed. “Okay, come on.” He turned on his heel.
“W-wait! I have questions!” Stacy hurried to catch up until she was matching his quick pace. “Who—what are you?”
“I see you corrected that one. Good.” He continued walking. Every so often they’d pass under a street light, and she’d see that she was on his blind side. Still, despite that, Stacy felt like he was staring at her. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? That’s impossible.”
“Is it? Is it really? Well, maybe it is and I’m just not telling you.” He giggled to himself.
Even though he’d just saved her life, that laugh was still really creepy. “And-and that other guy? Marvin?”
“Black magic magician that gives black cats the bad name they have. I stole something away from him and his friends, and they want it back.”
“What? Was it that green thing you threw?”
He grinned evilly. “No.” Still walking, he pulled at his scarf. For a moment, Stacy could see that underneath the scarf there were bloodied bandages wrapped around his neck. And then something glowing, green, and round shot out from where it had been hidden within the cloth of the scarf. It hovered in the air, easily keeping up with them. Stacy gasped. It was an eye. A green-scleraed, blue-irised eyeball with an optic nerve like a tail. The main body of the thing was about the size of a tennis ball. As she stared at it, its iris deformed slightly, curving upward. She got the impression that it was happy. “This little guy is Sam,” the man explained. “I broke into the guys’ main hideout and found them in a tank of green toxic fluid. They were curled up at the bottom and looked scared, so I broke the fucker and lettem out.”
“And…these guys…they want this Sam back?” Stacy hesitantly reached out toward the eyeball. It nudged her hand, then started nestling it like a pet would. It was actually kind of adorable. “Why?”
“Hell if I know. Some of them have major control freak problems, so maybe that’s it. But they sent Mr. Goodbye Kitty after me, so they’re serious about getting them back. The thing you saw me throw, that was a ‘copy,’ to distract him. He’ll grab it, take it back to their little lair, and then it’ll disappear. Thought it would buy me time to get you fixed.”
“Why didn’t you just-just teleport me?” Stacy asked.
“It’s not t̢ęl͟e̸port̷ing. It’s…well, you can call it glitching, that’s close enough. And it can’t affect most living things. Sam is somehow an exception.”
“It affects you.”
“Oh? Who told you I͡ w͏a̧s l̷̢͡į̷v̵i̴n̶g̸?” He smiled.
Stacy shuddered. She almost stopped in her tracks and ran the other way, but if he was right about the burn never healing, then she needed all the help she could get. “Okay,” she said quietly. They walked in silence for a moment through the empty city streets. But there was one more question bugging Stacy. “Wh-what-what’s your name?”
“Antisepticeye.”
“Oh.” Weird name…
“People call me Anti, if that’s too long for you. And you?”
“I’m Stacy. Stacy Bro—Davidson.”
He—Anti—faltered, turning to fully look at her for the first time. “Say that again.”
“Stacy Davidson,” she repeated, softer.
Anti stared at her for a moment longer, then turned away. “We’re almost there,” he said, and sped up.
Stacy sped up as well. Why had he been so interested in her name? Did he know something about her? Or about…? She shook her head. Don’t dwell on the past. Dwell on the present. However strange it may be.
And maybe the future too. She had the feeling it was about to get a whole lot stranger.