The Hollow Fork
"So, Heart, what's the plan now?" Leon asked.
"I don't know, Fool. Your acting and the idea for the episode were actually pretty good," I said.
"Guys, we're literally going viral right now," Kara said, holding up her phone.
"Alright, boys, stop glazing each other. You both did great. You saved someone's life. But we have to keep this streak going, because if we don't… more people die," Dahlia said bluntly.
"She's right. We need to post every single day, no exceptions," Penny added.
"Well, if this is going to be our full-time job, how are we supposed to afford everything else—like staying here?" Leon asked.
"I'm already working on that," Kara said. "I've applied for the YouTube Partner Program. If we get accepted, we'll start making money from every upload."
"You're the best, Kara," I said.
"What's our current count—views, likes, subscribers?" Leon asked.
"We're at 55,000 subscribers, over 11 million views total, and about 200,000 likes," she said with a proud smile.
"Damn," Leon muttered.
"A lot of the comments are positive. Some even suggest new challenges," Kara added.
"Sorry, but we can't listen to suggestions. We have to follow The Feed. If we don't… someone dies," I said. I felt a little bad ignoring the ideas, but I couldn't afford to stray.
"Now might be a good time to investigate," Penny suggested.
"That's actually a genius idea," Leon said.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" I said. "Let's look around town. And maybe grab a bite to eat while we're at it—I'm starving."
We ended up at a place called The Hollow Fork. The name was ominous, but the place looked fancier than I expected.
"Hello, how may I help you?" the waiter asked.
"Hi, can we get a table for five?" I said.
"Table or booth?"
"Doesn't matter. We're fine with either."
"This way, please."
The restaurant was dimly lit, with a cozy-yet-creepy ambiance. The lighting was low, casting soft glows through the fogged glass windows. It definitely felt like it was trying to be unsettling… and succeeding.
We were led to booth 6½. It was the only booth labeled with a fraction. Weird, but fitting.
"Here are your menus," the waiter said. "I'll be back shortly to take your drink orders."
We opened the menus and immediately noticed how bizarre they were.
"These drinks are… weird," Kara said.
"Now this is a menu," Leon said. "I think I'll go with the Dead Air Cola."
It was described as an inky-black soda with zero fizz, served in a vintage radio-shaped mug. Supposedly, anyone who drank it could hear static and whispers—like drinking the voices of the lost.
"I'll wait for the waiter, but I already know what I'm getting," Penny said, scanning the menu.
"Even the food names sound creepy," Dahlia added.
"I'm starting to love this place," Leon grinned. "So far, solid five stars."
The waiter returned. "What may I get you to drink?"
"I'll have the Dead Air Cola," Leon said.
"I'll get the Crimson Cream," I added.
That one was a blood-red soda float in a crystal skull-shaped glass, with a scoop of pitch-black vanilla ice cream that never melted. Each sip changed flavor—first fizzy cherry, then warm cinnamon. Apparently it was the house favorite.
"I'll take the Low Battery," Kara said.
It was a dull grayish-blue drink with faint hints of lavender and berry, served in a mug shaped like a phone battery. As you drank, the drink's color shifted—just like a phone's battery icon.
"I'll have the Velvet Static," Dahlia said.
A pale pink latte with swirling foam. The foam formed random words if stirred the right way.
"I'll just have the Echo Water," Penny said.
A tall glass of perfectly still water with three ice cubes, each shaped like a different human expression.
"Are you ready to order food as well?" the waiter asked.
"I think we are," I said. "I'll take the Still-Beating Burger."
It was described as a rare, juicy burger that throbbed slightly with every bite. You could customize it, but I was curious enough to try it as-is.
"I'll try the Candied Crow Sliders," Leon said.
Three mini sandwiches made from sweet, blackened bird meat.
"Lucid Linguine for me," Kara said.
The sauce turned into vapor when lifted with a fork and reformed on contact with the pasta. Trippy.
"Shrimp of the Siren," Penny said.
About twenty shrimp soaked in a salty-sweet, blue oceanic sauce.
"I guess I'll take the Specter's Steak," Dahlia added.
A perfectly grilled, midnight-black steak that absorbed the light around it.
"I'll take your menus and return shortly with your drinks," the waiter said.
"Okay, after dinner we start asking people questions. No procrastinating," I said.
The drinks arrived fast—within five minutes.
"That was quick," Leon noted.
"Enjoy your drinks while your food is being prepared," the waiter said politely.
Leon took a sip of his Dead Air Cola. "I can hear static… and whispering."
We all leaned in to listen.
"This drink tastes different every time I sip it!" I said.
"Mine changes color as I drink," Kara said, holding hers up to the light.
"Check this out," Dahlia said, stirring the foam in her drink. A word began to form: "Trapped."
The waiter reappeared. "Enjoying your drinks?"
"These are insane," I said. "How do they work?"
"That's everyone's first reaction," he replied cryptically.
Our food arrived shortly after, and once it hit the table, conversation stopped. We were too busy eating.
Surprisingly, we all finished our meals—every last bite.
"Would you like the check or perhaps try a dessert?" the waiter asked.
"We'll try one," I said. "Let's all share it."
We found the perfect one: the Black Velvet Eclipse.
It was a rich, jet-black chocolate cake layered with deep crimson cherry compote and silky dark cream. Its surface sparkled with edible black glitter, like a starless night sky.
"Have you decided?" the waiter asked.
"The Black Velvet Eclipse," we all said in unison. "And the check too, please."
When the dessert arrived, it was massive—clearly made for sharing.
"Since all five of you are sharing, we brought a larger portion," the waiter explained. "And here's your check."
We dug into the cake like ravenous beasts. It was sweet, intense, and incredibly satisfying.
Afterward, we slumped back in our seats.
"You got your debit card or should I pay?" Leon asked.
"I've got it," I said. "The girls look like they're asleep."
"I think they are asleep."
"I'll leave a $100 tip. The service was amazing, we went viral, joined the Partner Program, and we got extra dessert."
"Sounds fair."
I jotted it down and handed the receipt to the waiter.
He returned moments later. "Here's your receipt. Thank you for the generous tip."
"No problem. And thank you for the incredible service. We'll definitely come back."
"How are we supposed to get them out of here?" Leon asked, nodding at the girls.
"Uh… we carry them?"
"I would, but that cake knocked me out."
I looked down at the receipt again… and froze.
"You might wanna look at this," I said, passing it to Leon.
At the bottom of the receipt, written in fine, almost fading ink, was a chilling message:
"You fed yourselves. Now feed us."