“You are what you eat.”

  Ding!

  The sharp ring of a bell sounded as a man of average height pushed through a worn door.

  Outside the building was a hanging sign made of marbled wood. It read, “Bakery, Open 6 am to 3 pm.” The sweet smell of baked confections wafted outside, enticing any passersby to discover the source of the scent and revel in its warmth.

  It was a chilly December in Liefde City, the capital of Arthene. Snow piled onto the roofs outside, while a thin layer of ice covered the ground.

  The owner propped by the counter perused through the latest newspaper with his thick reading glasses. He glanced up at the sound of the bell, grimacing when he recognized the entering customer. A man with a single braid tied up in his half-up dirty blonde hair began browsing through the rows of fresh bread; his long coat rustled softly as he passed through the neatly arranged assortments.

  “Hm…”

  The man had a sly look about him; his droopy eyes and relaxed smile seemed unbothered.

  A woman with fiery red hair was staring intensely at the multigrain bread, not too far from the other man. She wore an elegant navy uniform with golden accents that had large buttons trailing her sides. One of her hands gripped the top of a rapier handle that hung on the left side of her hip. The other hand was aggressively inspecting loaves of multigrain bread, repeatedly turning and flipping the bread around.

  The man approached her, instantly recognizing her tightly wound ponytail and perfectly curled bangs.

  “Clementine?” the man called out, trying to get her attention.

  “Julian!” She perked up and relaxed, turning to face him. Her previously stoic demeanor vanished upon greeting a respected colleague.

  “I thought it was you! Hm, errands again?” Julian glanced at the long list that spilled out of her pocket.

  She chuckled vindictively.

  “Well, they just love sending the ladies to do chores.”

  Julian sighed, peering at the rack of bread.

  “Was it Ruben? He’s the only one who likes multigrain bread.”

  Clementine’s face morphed into an exasperated expression at his mere mention.

  “That rat kept pestering me to get multigrain bread with nine grains, not seven. How am I supposed to know when there are two fewer grains in a loaf?!”

  “Here, let a bread connoisseur help you out.” Julian gave a reassuring smile.

  He quickly throws two loaves of the ‘supposedly nine-grain’ bread and some other smaller pastries into a brown paper bag.

  Clementine beams at Julian and gratefully takes the now-stuffed bag.

  “Thanks, you…”

  She hesitates before continuing, “Come by the agency more often. Most of the newer recruits have been getting the wrong impression about you.”

  “Bahhh,” Julian makes a face, waving away her concerns.

  “Whatever, they can think what they want. Someone’s been spreading rumors. It’ll pass eventually.”

  Ding!

  The bell on the bakery door jingled once more, signaling two conversing customers wearing uniforms in the same style as Clementine.

  “He’s my supervisor, a mentor for God sake. How am I meant to learn anything if he’s never in his office! Nobody takes me seriously, we’re forced to wear these uniforms and all I’ve done so far is file papers! Why did I have to be assigned to an unqualified bum who spends his time meddling with the occult instead of actually doing his job?!” A younger fellow with brown hair angrily ranted as his friend sympathetically patted his back.

  The fuming friend abruptly quieted, elbowing the other to look Julian’s way. A yelp escaped his mouth as he realized, the pair going owl-eyed at seeing Julian and Clementine in the far corner.

  Damn, what a coincidence. I’ve been reviewing these recruit’s paperwork and they couldn’t be any less illiterate.

  Julian prepared to fire a retort, but before he could get a word out, the bakery door flew open and the pair fled in embarrassment. A pitiful Ding! followed as Clementine finished paying.

  “See what I mean? I know it doesn’t get to you, but… Matthew has been worried too.” Given the genuine concern on her normally aloof face, Julian realized that this has truly been bothering her.

  Hm. This won’t do.

  He outstretches his right hand, pressing the other against his chest as he heaves deeply before declaring, “Do not fear Clementine! Geniuses never get recognition in their prime!”

  “Stop-” She paused before chuckling, giving Julian a hard flick on his forehead, “Stop being ridiculous! You’re just making excuses.”

  “Owww!!!” Julian cries in fake distress, “You’re the real menace of our department!” He frowned deeply at Clementine’s laughing face.

  Carefully, she held the bread bag before jabbing a pointed finger at the sapphire brooch on Julian’s chest.

  “Remember what I said, I’ll see you later.” Julian nodded while sorrowfully rubbing his forehead.

  “Don’t miss me too much!” He cooed.

  Clementine didn’t respond as she left, but he could tell her smile was still there.

  The owner lowered his newspaper, staring daggers at the only person left in the shop. “I’d appreciate it if you’d come earlier to avoid driving away my potential customers.”

  Julian awkwardly scratches at his face, “Apologies sir, the bread here is too delicious! I can’t bear to be apart from it for even a moment.”

  “I don’t need a sermon, just hurry up and leave.”

  “How about this, I’ll give you a free reading to make amends!”

  “Don’t make me repeat myself.” The owner straightened his newspaper, making a loud PA! noise as he settled back into his seat. Julian stared at the owner for a second longer before resuming his search, being sure to select the most delicious looking loaves. He especially eyed the circular loaves of bread with interest, admiring the decorative cuts that baked into the shapes of flowers and leaves. Being practically rushed out the door, Julian paid in full and bid the owner an earnest goodbye, which was met with an eye roll and silence.

  “Don’t forget, free reading! People pay top dollar to get a session with me.” He managed to squeeze in before the owner gave him another piercing glare.

  Ding!

  Julian stepped out into the winter breeze, watching people clamber by in their carriages, bikes, and the occasional automobile. The sun peeked over the tops of the city’s buildings, the morning was already so busy with traffic.

  Smoke billowed out in uniform puffs, rising from the closely packed businesses and houses. Many citizens were bundled in thick wool jackets and scarves that reached the tip of their red noses. The women and men alike donned all kinds of colorful bonnets and gambling hats, walking quickly in the cold, their boots and dress shoes clacking against cobbled streets. Julian’s warm breath floated upwards into the cloudy sky, his gloved hands tightly gripping his own bag of bread.

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  He muttered to himself, “Hold on bread, you’ll be safe and warm in my stomach soon.”

  A woman in a dark brown coat passed by witnessing Julian’s mutterings, her stare nothing short of judgment.

  Julian ignored her, walking down the street with rows and rows of warmly lit lamps emitting a foggy haze. He lived a 10 minute carriage ride away, but the street he was on was too busy for his liking.

  Once he got to a much quieter street, he raised a hand and a horse-drawn carriage soon came over. The coachman was an older man, looking to be around his late 30s.

  “Destination?”

  “Bell Street, sir.”

  “5 pence.”

  Julian already had the bronze coins in hand, swiftly dumping them into the coachman’s hand. He watched him pocket the pence in a leather bag attached to his belt. The coachman turned around, sliding open a small door revealing a voice box that went into the passenger cabin.

  His gruff voice projected, “New passenger!”

  Julian opened the door into the carriage, looking inside to see three other people already situated inside–two of which were muttering to one another. He settled into his seat, making sure his bread sat close to his side. Shutting the carriage door, Julian began to tune in to what his carriage mates were gossiping about.

  “Could you believe that Mr. and Mrs. Cadrilla were possessed by a Horror?” A maiden in her youth whispered to her partner, her hands clutching her purse tight, glancing over to her partner.

  “They were screaming their heads off, begging that they’ve got the wrong people.”

  The maiden shudders. “Really…. It could be anyone these days.”

  The man next to the maiden placed an arm around her shoulder.

  “I’ll never let a Horror touch a hair on your head darling.” She squealed in response, leaning into her partner’s touch.

  “We’ll be a better couple than the Cadrillas.” The maiden whispered coquettishly, throwing her arms around his neck and giggling into his rumpled suit.

  Julian scoffed inwardly at the sight.

  How insensitive. The Cadrillas used to be my beloved old neighbors.

  The pair were extremely kind and generous, often exchanging house-warming gifts such as food and decorations. They were rather fit, both wife and husband were lean and bright eyed.

  They were respectable, unlike some of us sitting in this carriage. Julian took a longer glance at the nauseating couple who seemed adamant about remaining glued together for the remainder of the ride.

  The food they’d bring was often far too healthy for my tastes… bland.

  Julian grimaced at the memory of their dishes that were overwhelmingly green with little to no seasoning, maybe salt if they were feeling adventurous that evening. However, their choice of house decorations were often exquisite.

  It’s a pity, those two were almost my favorite neighbors. Although if Matthew hadn’t told me all the details, I’d feel a little more empathetic right now.

  According to the recorded report, the couple were creating hyper realistic drawings of people being tortured in... unspeakable ways, no matter the age. From getting beaten to death, bled, hung, suffocated, and some Julian doesn’t want to think about. These two would hysterically ramble about how they’d have to “massacre them,” and “tear them apart.” Luckily, a thief had broken into their home and witnessed the atrocities, deciding to turn the pair into the police.

  Julian recalled Matthew laughing at the situation and remarking:

  “Humans are repulsive, but there are degrees of injustice even lesser evils wouldn’t tolerate.”

  “Matthew, are we sure that they went insane? Perhaps the Horror had induced something inside of the Cadrillas.”

  “Those two were creating detailed drawings of civilians being tortured to death. Some subjects even included you and your neighbors.”

  “But those two were never artists!”

  “What difference does that make? Listen, you need to value your life more. For all we know, if that thief hadn’t turned them in, you could’ve already been dead.”

  Julian remembered Matthew’s face before dropping the topic, full of concern and exasperation. If even a thief felt unsafe with Mr. and Mrs. Cadrilla roaming about, then trying to justify their innocence was pointless.

  What irony. Julian thought.

  “…”

  The carriage continued to rumble through the streets.

  Come to think of it…

  Squinting at the male partner, Julian recognized him to be a stockbroker.

  Edward Shill was his name. He landed himself in the newspaper for his record speeds of going “broke” and making an embarrassing ruckus in the town hall.

  Hah! Not only that, Julian had spotted something else rather intriguing.

  Two kiss marks peeking under his collar, both red in color. Initially without further inspection, you’d assume that they were both from his lover. Except one of them appeared slightly different in hue. It was closer to burgundy as opposed to the other being cherry red.

  Of course, maybe the maiden changed her lipstick halfway through the day.

  But, the likely conclusion is that the man was cheating. Julian found the potential infidelity laughable, his disappointment shoving Edward in an even poorer light.

  The couple continued to smother each other in love for the remainder of the ride. The woman sitting next to Julian looked out the window in anguish. He could tell that she simply wanted out of the carriage, and the temptation to yell “GET A ROOM” was getting harder to resist.

  Julian did not bat an eye and thought what kind of tea he’d pair with his bread instead.

  The carriage eventually rolled to a stop, as the passengers in the back were hollered to exit. The woman sitting next to him had already fled to her stop earlier, leaving Julian and the couple alone together in the carriage.

  What are the chances I see these fools again? A sly smile crept onto Julian’s face, his eyes lighting up in the process.

  Before making his way out, Julian leaned over to Edward Shill waving a hand over.

  “Psst! Lean in!”

  “Hm? What’d ya want?” The broker was a pleasant mood, so his attitude was a bit more favorable to Julian’s albeit strange request.

  YANK!

  A hand reached out to yank down the broker’s collar. An expression of shock overtook Edward’s face; he felt a mixture of outrage and disgust that another man had laid their hands on him.

  “What are-” He started, before being cut off by Julian’s clear voice.

  “Philandering enriches one’s art. Although if that was true, you should have already turned a profit by now, huh?” He looked at Edward and gave him a grin.

  “Do you have the ladies pay for your bills too?”

  “By- by hell! That’s simply not true!” Edward’s spit rattled out of his mouth as he exclaimed in protest. His eyes darted between Julian’s smug face and the maiden’s betrayed expression.

  “Now get off me you vile-” Edward thrashes around, attempting to break free from this compromising situation.

  “Darling… why would this man say that?” The maiden questioned, her eyes becoming teary.

  Pointedly looking at the other kiss mark, Julian casually suggested over Edward’s wailing, “Miss, this color of red surely the one you’re wearing right now. Who else could it be?”

  “Don’t listen to this man honey, he’s obviously lying!” Edward goes to push Julian off, who dodges his aggressive movements, keeping the kiss marks in clear view. But before he could pursue a fight, the maiden rips Edward away with unprecedented strength. Julian takes this opportunity to back up, sensing her incoming rage. Her dainty but powerful hands pulled and tugged at Edward’s unironed collar to inspect the kiss marks.

  “You rotten impotent man!”

  Julian hastily pushes open the carriage door and leaps to the street, escaping from the escalating situation. He turned to witness the stockbroker trying to calm the maiden, not being able to chase after Julian.

  “Who was it?! Damn you to hell! I hope you never-”

  As the door slammed closed, their screaming became muffled, making it hard for Julian to eavesdrop on the rest of the lover’s quarrel. The coachman paid no mind as he rode off down the quiet street.

  Surprised I was right about Edward’s cheating, it would’ve been really difficult to worm out if I wasn’t. What are the odds that she just changed her lipstick halfway through the day? Only a guilty man would immediately panic like that.

  Julian adjusted his clothes, patting himself down in case anything fell out of his pockets. Feeling pleased with himself, he made his way towards his apartment building. Right across from his door was the Cadrilla’s old residence. Their ‘Welcome!’ doormat and potted plants were all gone, leaving a barren front door.

  I wonder who will move in next. He offhandedly thought, unlocking his door and finally entering his residence.

  “I swear I’ve seen that 30% discount since last year.”

  A newsboy stared at a worn down sign in front of a patterned purple tent. The large “mystical” font depicting this discount was painted on with great care but little skill. Underneath the fading paint was a hardly intelligible statement, “Pa m Rea ings & Tar t R ad ngs! 9 % Ac ur te”

  “Only 9% accuracy? Blazes, this guy must suck!”

  “It’s meant to be 99%. Trust me, the readings here are very precise.” A man’s voice suddenly chimed in. The newsboy looked over to see a cloaked man, the afternoon sun glared behind him, obscuring his face. The figure was tall and imposing, casting a long shadow over the meek newsboy.

  Frightened, the boy remembered all the times his mother warned him about strangers snatching kids off the streets. Without a second thought, the child fled on his bike, taking his mother’s warnings to heart.

  “Hm, it seems I’ve chased away a potential customer.” The man laments, watching the newsboy speed off towards the crowded shopping district.

  “Oi! Hurry up, it went this way!” A voice shouted from an alleyway, beckoning the cloaked man to follow. Gazing at the tent for a second longer, the man quickly made his way towards the voice, vanishing from sight.

  Hot steam rose from a chipped porcelain cup with freshly brewed Assam tea.

  “Mm mM MM.” Julian made ‘strange’ noises as he popped open his bread bag to choose which would become his lunch for the day. There were a few elongated pieces of bread that were simple, perfect when paired with room temperature butter and salt. But, the one that tempted Julian the most was a circular two-toned loaf of sourdough, with a divine crust that made crisp crunches when squeezed.

  Julian just had to dig into this one bread in particular.

  Saving the best for first!

  Between the morning and afternoon, Julian busied himself with setting up his tent in the usual spot, taking equipment from his apartment. Since he only opens on weekends, the market was notably busier compared to a weekday. A bit tired from the setup, Julian wanted to reward himself with a satisfying lunch.

  The chair that he sat in was rickety, much of its structure appeared to be poorly bolted together by inexperience. Laid in front of Julian was an array of mystical looking items. A classic sphere sat in the middle, the metal base had engraved zodiac animals prancing about. To his right were crystals of varying sizes, colors and patterns. They glittered in the sun, some even casting iridescent shapes around the interior of the tent. To his left were a variety of items: a simple and well used stack of tarot cards, brown rosary beads, 3 tall wax candles, mortar and pestle, and several small stones with engravings.

  Julian gently lifted the glass orb and placed it off to the side, shifting his steaming tea cup to the center. Setting down his selected loaf, he took a bread knife and hovered the serrated edge over the bread, estimating how to best slice it in half. Before pressing down, Julian reconsidered.

  Why not just… take a bite? Why go through the trouble of cutting?

  He set down his knife, amused by his own thoughts. Something spontaneous compelled the notion into Julian’s head, whether it be his own strange antics, or his instincts as a bread expert, he knew he had to follow it. Julian held the bread in his left hand, and instead smeared butter onto the front end of the bread. Since it wasn’t cut open, the butter laid pathetically on the smooth surface of the sourdough.

  Thank the heavens for bread! I’d be sure to give that shop owner the best palm reading of his life!

  With a heart full of excitement, and a stomach empty, Julian sinks his mouth into the bread. His teeth break the crust of the bread, letting out a deliciously crisp noise just like…. screaming?

  “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

  “AHHh?!”

  Two comically large auburn eyes, a nose with a high bridge, a small tuft of amber hair, and thin lips spring out of the bread in panic. The features of a human face laid on top of the surface of the bread as it screamed out in horror.

  “STOP IT!!!”

  Julian immediately drops the sour dough in terror, the bread pitifully hitting the table.

  “You! You’re chewing a bite of me! Spit it out RIGHT NOW!” The bread-creature’s semblance of a face contorted with anger, spewing what looked like… bread crumbs all over Julian’s carefully arranged table.

  Julian was at a loss for words, but more unfortunately, had already swallowed the bite he had taken.

  Gulp.