The Cup, Brewed in Blood (Episode 3)

Nine Stamps to Hell

Dana couldn’t sleep.
The loyalty card sat on the kitchen table like a curse—its final stamp a silent threat. Her fingers hovered over it, tracing the small, spidery handwriting: “Free drink. Final sin.”

Aaron had gone to bed hours ago, insisting she stay the night. But her thoughts were too loud. Jeremy’s face, pale and bloodless. The cryptic notes. The bitter coffee. The man in the corner. It all swirled around her like a storm she couldn’t escape.

She opened her laptop. Maybe she could find something—anything—about *The Cup*. Health violations. Accidents. Staff reviews. But it was like the place barely existed. No real website. No social media. Just a single business listing with one review:

> “Careful what you confess over coffee.” – Posted 8 years ago.

She shivered.

And then her inbox pinged.

New Email. No Sender. No Subject.

Inside was a photo. Grainy. Black and white.

It was her. Sitting in The Cup that afternoon.

The photo was taken from inside the cafe—but not from a table. From behind the counter.

She slammed the laptop shut and jumped to her feet. Her breathing became erratic.

That meant… the staff. The barista. Someone was watching her from inside.


Somewhere across the city, in a cramped, low-lit room that smelled faintly of bleach and roasted beans, Elias placed the same photo into a manila envelope.

He sealed it. Labeled it:
“Dana Caldwell – Final Brew Pending”

He turned to the barista, who stood silently in the doorway, arms crossed.

“She’s unraveling,” Elias said.

“She’s smart,” the barista replied.

“She’s guilty. That’s all that matters.”

The barista didn’t respond.

Elias flipped through a stack of loyalty cards pinned to a corkboard. Each one belonged to a different person. Each had ten stamps. Each had a name. And each person was now dead.

Except one.

Dana’s.

Nine stamps.

One left.

“I’ll take her myself,” Elias said.

The barista looked surprised. “You’ve never—”

“She’s different,” Elias interrupted. “She’s not just another cheater. She tried to *bury* it. To move on. But sin isn’t a garment you can take off. It stains. Permanently.”

He pulled a drawer open, revealing a small metal box. Inside were old, yellowing photographs. Lovers. Weddings. A few torn in half.

At the bottom, a newspaper clipping:
**“Local Woman Survives Café Fire—Husband Perishes”**

A younger version of the barista stared from the page.

Elias noticed her looking.

“You remember now?” he said, voice low.

She nodded.

“It always begins with coffee,” he whispered.



Back at Aaron’s apartment, Dana walked into the guest room and stared at her coat draped over the chair. She dug into the pocket.

There it was. The crumpled receipt from her visit to The Cup.
Timestamped. 3:14 PM. But something caught her eye.

Under the itemized list—Americano, No Sugar—was a strange line at the bottom:

“1 Redemption – Pending. Welcome Back, Dana.”

Her blood ran cold.

She hadn’t been back since she and Jeremy broke up. Or so she thought. But maybe… just maybe…

She picked up her phone and texted Aaron.

“Can you check your calendar from last year? February 3rd. Did I disappear that day?”

It was past midnight. She didn’t expect a reply.

But one came.

“Yes. I remember. You said you were with your sister. But your sister was here in town. She came over. You lied.”

Dana’s fingers tightened around the phone.

What the hell had happened that day?

And why couldn’t she remember it?

She stared at the loyalty card again. Nine stamps.

But if she’d visited before… when was the tenth?

Then her eyes widened.

She turned over the card.

Stamped faintly on the back, almost invisible, was a tenth mark.

A blood-red ring.

Her breath caught.

The tenth stamp wasn’t on the front. It was hiding. Like everything else.

---

Back inside The Cup, the lights were off. The windows dark.

Elias sat in the shadows, sipping coffee alone.

Across from him, on the table, was an envelope addressed to Dana.

Inside it, folded neatly, was a photo of her sitting in the cafe with someone else.

A man she never mentioned.

A man who was not Jeremy.

And beneath that photo… a handwritten note:

“Welcome back. You never left.”



[End of Episode 3]
Continued...