The Phantom Sweet Shop

Strange new job, strange new town, strange new streets… Blake mused on the way home from work. The new job was not what he expected. Sure, the money was great, but he longed for the loved ones back home.

Street lamps cast a golden glow over the uneven pavement as he turned down a narrow street. The sounds of the busy town faded away. No shouts, no car horns, no dogs’ barks, just an unearthly calm. Blake looked around, confused. That’s not the way home! Must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere…

He pulled out a smartphone and tapped the maps app. The phone buzzed, and the screen went black. Damn battery must be dead, he thought.

Blake turned back the way he came, eyes peeled for a place to charge the phone. He came to a small shop on the corner. Faded letters decorated the shop front’s glass pane: Sweet Shop. He supposed the shop was as good a place as any. A bell over the door rang as Blake entered. He looked around the shop at the array of sweet treats: chocolate bars, gumdrops, caramels, fudge, and cupcakes of every flavor under the sun.

The shop’s decor wouldn’t have looked out of place a hundred years ago. Shelves of candy and gum framed the walls. A glass case attached to the counter at the back held cakes and fudge. Dull bulbs hung overhead and cast a yellow shadow over the shop. The wooden floor, although scratched and worn, was swept clean.

Blake stared at a cake as he perused the glass case. As the sweet smell wafted through the shop, a sudden ravenous urge overwhelmed Blake. He wanted to break the glass, grab the cake, and run. Before he could move, someone spoke. He jumped, startled by the unexpected sound.

“Hello! What can we do for you today, sugar?”

A plump blonde woman stood at the counter. Although her frumpy clothes made her appear much older, Blake guessed they were about the same age. He gaped at her. Where had she come from? He was almost sure he hadn’t seen her there before!

Cloudy blue eyes met Blake’s as the woman looked up from her work. Suddenly he remembered why he’d entered the shop. “Do you have a spare outlet to charge my phone?” he asked as he held up the dead smartphone.

The woman stared dumbly, as though she had no clue what a smartphone was. “Sorry, we sure don’t. How else can we help you?”

Blake looked around the shop, enamored by the scenery. “How long has the store been here?” he mused out loud.

“Not long,” the woman answered. “We’re what the youngsters call a pop-up shop.”

As Blake waved her off, the woman resumed her work. She cut squares from a tray of fudge and neatly stacked them. No sooner had she arranged the topmost square that a man emerged from the back room. He beamed and placed an arm around her. She chuckled as he playfully ruffled her curls. “We have a customer, my dear. Let me handle that one.”

Only when he turned did Blake get a good look at the other man. Where the woman was stout and blonde, he was slender and dark. He had a dated style of dress and manners to match, but what really struck Blake was the other man’s sleeves and apron, each spotted a bloody shade of red.

The man caught Blake’s blank stare. “Not to worry,” he shrugged. “Just some dye for the red velvet cupcakes. Blasted bottle leaked all over me!”

He loaded a platter full of cakes, candy, and fudge. “My good man, you look as though you could use a free sample. Have some of our decadent butterscotch fudge!”

Blake savored the fudge’s melty, buttery goodness. No sooner had he swallowed that the man held up a cupcake. “You must sample our famous red velvet cupcakes - they’re crazy good!”

Blake peeled back the cupcake wrapper. The sharp, tangy flavor was unexpected yet strangely pleasant. He gobbled up the cake and reached for another. The man laughed as he snatched the platter away. “You want more, you’ll have to pay.”

Blake nodded. “Okay, a dozen of those cupcakes… and a pound of that fudge too!”

The man punched the number buttons on an obsolete apparatus and gave Blake a well-worn paper that barely resembled any money he’d ever seen. The woman boxed up the requested treats and handed them to Blake. “There you go, enjoy!”

“Come back soon!” the man called as Blake left the shop.

****************************

Safely home at last, Blake enjoyed a square of fudge. As the sweet flavor melted away all too soon, he craved another and another. Overcome by a sudden frenzy, he tore through the snack boxes as though he were a ravenous beast. He devoured every cake and candy; when he was done, only two crunched boxes and a few crumbs were left.

He wanted more! He ransacked the cupboards and pantry for sweets, but he found none. He huffed, defeated, and slunk off to bed.

Blake tossed and turned, half asleep, haunted by the fudge’s melty, gooey goodness and the cupcakes’ creamy, chocolatey tang. He plodded through work the next day, groggy and forgetful. He sat at the desk and stared vacantly at the computer screen all day, all thoughts on the pop-up candy shop he found the day before. As soon as the workday ended, he could search for the shop once more. He needed more sweets! Just one more taste, and he’d be off the stuff for good!

Blake walked the usual path home from work, spurred on by a hungry madness. He turned down the street where he thought the sweet shop was, only to see rows of houses. He took another street, then another; the shop was nowhere to be found. Lost and desperate, he asked passers-by on the street about the sweet shop. The only answers he got were scoffs and blank looks. No one had heard of a pop-up candy shop!

Fueled only by the hope of decadent sweets, Blake plodded on. He walked down a narrow street and came to an abandoned shop on the corner. The facade resembled that of the candy shop, but the glass panes were broken and the door boarded up. That couldn’t be the same store!

Blake stopped an elderly woman as she passed. “Excuse me, ma’am. What used to be there?” he asked.

The old woman stared, mouth agape. “That place has been empty for years. Don’t you know the story, son? People say that shop’s cursed.”

“Cursed?”

The old woman nodded. “About a century ago, there was a sweet shop there. My grandpa knew the owners, a couple as sweet as the treats they sold. She was blonde; he was dark, and… well, people frowned upon them. One day, an angry mob attacked. They burned the shop and attacked the couple… Now the shop's cursed. No company that operated there after the attack lasted longer than a year.”

Blake’s heart raced. He staggered backward and sat on the shop’s front steps, confused and scared. He pulled out the strange money he got from the sweet shop owner yesterday and read the date: 1930. How had that happened? Were the shop owners ghosts? Had they somehow traveled to the present day? Or had he somehow traveled to 1930? Exhausted, he collapsed on the steps and fell asleep. Once more he dreamed of sumptuous cakes and fudge.

Blake’s eyes snapped open to darkness. He was bound to a board by ropes at the arms and legs. As he became accustomed to the dark, he saw a barrel full of some red substance. Was that blood? He struggled and fought to break free, but there was no use. A creepy laugh echoed through the room. “Now, now. That won’t do you any good.”

The man from the shop emerged from the shadows. Normally brown eyes glowed red, and sharp teeth protruded. The woman appeared, already transformed. Her round face became skeletal and her blonde curls gray and lank. Horns sprouted from her head, and her mouth oozed blood. Blake gasped, horrorstruck. “Y-you’re d-dead…” he stammered.

“Dead? No, undead, actually. You see, my dear boy, we’re demons. Nearly a century ago, we were brutally murdered here. To save ourselves from death, we sold our souls to the underworld… at a great cost.”

“W-what cost?”

“To keep ourselves young and strong, we must feed on the souls of our customers.” He laughed once more as he saw the look of terror on Blake’s face. “Not to worry, my good man. We won’t waste a morsel. Your leftovers should draw plenty of new customers!”

He gestured toward the barrel full of bloody goo, a barrel labeled food dye. Blake gasped. “Y-you mean…”

The demon man scoffed. “Of course. How else would we get our cakes to taste so good?”

The demon woman snarled and gnashed her teeth. No one heard Blake’s screams as the demon couple feasted.