Short Story: Reserved Table II
- Faiz Faisal
- 2 days ago
- 8 min read
This is Part 2 of Reserved Table. Click Here if you haven't read Part 1 yet.
Three months after Lotus Table became one of Kuala Lumpur's most sought-after restaurants, Hafiz began noticing something strange.
It wasn't the food.
The food was still perfect.
That was the problem.
Every dish came out exactly the same every night. The same aroma. The same texture. The same almost impossible depth of flavor.
Customers loved it.
Hafiz did too.
But after working there for nearly a year, he had learned something about cooking.
Food was never supposed to be exactly the same.
A pinch of salt could change.
A flame could burn slightly hotter.
A vegetable could be sweeter.
A chef could be tired.
Yet somehow, Lotus Table never made a mistake.
Not once.
"How do you do it?" Hafiz asked Ken one night.
Ken looked up from his phone.
"Do what?"
"Everything tastes exactly the same."
Ken smiled.
"Consistency."
"That's not consistency."
Hafiz laughed.
"That's witchcraft."
Ken's smile disappeared for half a second.
Then he laughed.
"Maybe we're just that good."
Hafiz laughed along.
He didn't notice Mei watching him from across the kitchen.
The first thing that really bothered him happened on a Monday.
A regular customer named Daniel came into the restaurant.
Hafiz recognized him immediately.
Daniel had been coming to Lotus Table almost every week for months.
He always ordered the same noodles.
Always sat at Table 6.
Always complained about the weather.
That evening, however, he sat quietly and stared at the menu.
"Something wrong?" Hafiz asked.
Daniel looked up.
"Do I know you?"
Hafiz smiled.
"You've been coming here for months."
Daniel frowned.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Daniel looked around.
The restaurant seemed strangely unfamiliar to him.
"I don't remember."
Hafiz thought he was joking.
Until Daniel asked the waiter where the bathroom was.
He had asked the same question nearly every week.
After Daniel left, Hafiz mentioned it to Mei.
She shrugged.
"People forget things."
"Not like that."
Mei continued chopping vegetables.
"Don't worry about it."
A week later, Daniel returned.
Except he wasn't Daniel anymore.
Not really.
His wife came with him.
She spent the entire meal smiling at him.
"You seem happier lately," she said.
Daniel nodded.
"I feel... different."
His wife laughed.
"Different how?"
Daniel looked toward the kitchen.
"I don't know."
He smiled.
"I just feel like I've finally become myself."
Hafiz overheard the conversation.
He didn't know why.
But the words made his stomach tighten.
Then there were the customers who never came back.
Not because they disliked the restaurant.
Quite the opposite.
They had attended the Reserved Table dinners.
Afterward, some stopped visiting.
Some stopped answering messages.
Some suddenly moved overseas.
One woman apparently quit her job, sold her apartment and disappeared without telling anyone.
The police had even contacted Lotus Table after her family reported her missing.
Mei answered their questions calmly.
She had no idea where the woman was.
Technically...
she wasn't lying.
One Thursday night, Hafiz stayed late.
The kitchen was already cleaned.
Mei and Ken had left.
He was finishing inventory when he heard voices.
They were coming from the pantry.
Hafiz froze.
The restaurant was supposed to be empty.
He slowly walked toward the sound.
Laughter.
Glasses clinking.
Someone applauded.
He frowned.
Had Mei and Ken arranged another private dinner?
He opened the pantry door.
Nothing.
Just shelves.
Boxes.
Rice sacks.
Cleaning supplies.
The voices continued.
Hafiz stepped inside.
The sound was louder now.
He moved one of the shelves.
Nothing.
Then he noticed something.
A thin line running along the wall.
A door.
He had never seen it before.
Hafiz pushed.
The wall moved.
Cold air rushed across his face.
Beyond it was not another room.
It was another world.
The hallway stretched farther than the entire building should have allowed.
Black stone walls disappeared into darkness.
Strange lanterns floated above him without chains.
The floor looked like polished glass.
And somewhere in the distance...
people were laughing.
Hafiz stepped through.
The doorway closed behind him.
He turned.
There was no door.
Only a smooth stone wall.
His breathing quickened.
Then he heard footsteps.
Hafiz ducked behind a pillar.
Something walked past.
At first he thought it was a person.
Then it turned.
Its face looked almost human.
Almost.
Its eyes were completely black.
Its smile revealed too many teeth.
Hafiz covered his mouth.
The creature continued walking.
He waited until it disappeared.
Then he looked ahead.
And finally understood where the voices were coming from.
A banquet hall stretched across the darkness.
Hundreds of figures sat around enormous tables.
They were dressed beautifully.
Silk.
Jewelry.
Expensive suits.
Elegant gowns.
They laughed, drank and spoke as though attending the most exclusive restaurant in existence.
But none of them were human.
Hafiz watched one creature lift a glass of wine.
Its fingers bent backward around the stem.
Another had a second mouth hidden beneath its chin.
A woman across the table smiled with a face that seemed to move several seconds behind her expressions.
Hafiz almost screamed.
Then he saw the food.
There was no human flesh.
No blood.
No bones.
Nothing that looked remotely like a person.
Instead, the tables were covered with the same dishes served at Lotus Table.
Claypot rice.
Dumplings.
Noodles.
Soup.
Desserts.
The creatures weren't eating the humans.
They were eating something else.
Hafiz watched as a waiter carried a black folder to the head table.
The old man from Lotus Table was sitting there.
Mr. Lim.
He opened the folder.
A photograph was attached to the first page.
Hafiz recognized the woman immediately.
She had eaten at Lotus Table for years.
Mr. Lim smiled.
"Excellent emotional resilience."
Another creature leaned forward.
"Family?"
"Two children."
"Memories?"
"Strong."
"Compatibility?"
Mr. Lim turned the page.
"Very high."
A hand slowly rose.
"I'll take her."
The room applauded.
Hafiz's blood turned cold.
He finally understood.
They weren't shopping for food.
They were shopping for people.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Hafiz spun around.
Mei stood behind him.
He stumbled backward.
"You..."
She looked completely calm.
"How did you get here?"
Hafiz pointed toward the banquet hall.
"What is this?"
Mei sighed.
"I was hoping you wouldn't find out."
"You knew?"
"Of course."
"Ken knew?"
"Of course."
Hafiz stared at her.
"Then what are they?"
Mei looked toward the creatures.
"Our customers."
"Those things aren't customers!"
Mei smiled sadly.
"They've been customers longer than humanity has existed."
Hafiz shook his head.
"You sold people to them."
"No."
Mei's voice became quieter.
"We never sold anyone."
She pointed toward the banquet hall.
"They choose."
"And we prepare them."
Hafiz stared at her.
"Prepare them for what?"
Mei didn't answer.
Mr. Lim did.
He had appeared beside them without making a sound.
"Life."
Hafiz backed away.
Mr. Lim looked almost disappointed.
"You've misunderstood the arrangement."
"What arrangement?"
"The one that made Lotus Table successful."
Hafiz looked at Mei.
"Why?"
Mei's eyes filled with tears.
"Because we were going to lose everything."
"We were drowning in debt."
"We had nothing."
She looked toward the restaurant's impossible banquet hall.
"He offered us a future."
Hafiz whispered.
"And the price?"
Mei looked at him.
"The price was simply to keep doing what we do best."
"Cooking."
Mr. Lim smiled.
"You provide the vessels."
"The community provides the opportunity."
Hafiz's stomach twisted.
"What happens to the people?"
Mr. Lim walked toward one of the tables.
A young woman sat there.
She looked perfectly normal.
She was smiling.
Laughing.
Eating.
Hafiz recognized her.
She had been one of the first customers to receive a Reserved Table invitation.
Mr. Lim gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Nothing happens to them."
The woman looked up.
"Nothing at all."
Her voice sounded normal.
But her eyes were empty.
Mr. Lim continued.
"They continue living."
Hafiz stared at her.
"Then where are they?"
Mr. Lim smiled.
"Inside."
The woman suddenly screamed.
Her body convulsed.
Her fingers curled inward.
Veins rose beneath her skin like dark roots.
Her mouth opened impossibly wide.
Something moved beneath her face.
Hafiz watched in horror as another set of eyes slowly opened beneath her eyelids.
The woman gasped.
Then smiled.
But it wasn't her smile.
"Much better," she whispered.
The creature inside her had taken control.
The original consciousness wasn't dead.
It was trapped.
Buried beneath layers of memories that no longer belonged to it.
The entity had consumed her from within.
Her childhood.
Her fears.
Her relationships.
Her ambitions.
Her identity.
Everything that made her who she was.
And now it wore her life like a costume.
Hafiz vomited onto the floor.
Mr. Lim simply watched.
"That is why we call them vessels."
Hafiz suddenly remembered Daniel.
The forgotten meals.
The strange behavior.
The people who disappeared.
The customers who seemed different.
They hadn't vanished.
They had gone home.
They had gone to work.
They had hugged their children.
They had continued their lives.
Except someone else was living them.
Hafiz looked at Mei.
"How many?"
She couldn't answer.
Mr. Lim did.
"Thousands."
Hafiz's eyes widened.
"How long?"
Mr. Lim smiled.
"Longer than your city has existed."
Hafiz ran.
He didn't care where the corridor led.
He ran until he saw a familiar door.
The pantry.
He threw it open and stumbled into Lotus Table.
The lights were off.
The restaurant was empty.
He locked the door behind him.
Then another thought hit him.
His phone.
He pulled it out.
No signal.
He tried calling the police.
Nothing.
He tried Mei.
The phone rang.
Inside the restaurant.
Hafiz slowly lowered his phone.
His ringtone was coming from behind him.
He turned.
Mei stood in the dining room.
Ken beside her.
Neither spoke.
Behind them stood Mr. Lim.
And behind him...
dozens of smiling customers.
Some Hafiz recognized.
Others he didn't.
They all stared at him.
Mei stepped forward.
"Hafiz."
He backed toward the exit.
"I'm sorry."
Hafiz reached for the door.
Mei's voice stopped him.
"You don't understand."
"I do."
"No."
She shook her head.
"You still think you're the victim."
Hafiz froze.
Mr. Lim smiled.
"He's been eating here for eleven months."
Hafiz's blood ran cold.
Mr. Lim looked toward Mei.
"How many Reserved Tables?"
Mei looked down.
"Seven."
Mr. Lim nodded.
"And how many regular meals?"
She hesitated.
"Too many to count."
Hafiz suddenly felt something move inside his stomach.
He collapsed onto the floor.
His hands trembled.
His vision blurred.
And somewhere deep inside his mind...
someone whispered his name.
Not from outside.
From within.
Mr. Lim watched with satisfaction.
"The preparation has already begun."
Hafiz woke up in his apartment the next morning.
Sunlight filled the room.
Everything seemed normal.
He sat up.
His head hurt.
He couldn't remember how he got home.
His phone was beside his bed.
Twenty-seven missed calls.
He opened his messages.
The last message was from Mei.
Thank you for everything, Hafiz.
He stared at it.
Something about the message felt wrong.
He went to the bathroom.
Looked into the mirror.
For a moment, he saw himself.
Then his reflection smiled.
A fraction of a second before he did.
Hafiz stepped backward.
His reflection remained still.
Then it whispered:
"Good morning."
Hafiz's mouth never moved.
But the voice came from somewhere inside him.
That evening, Lotus Table opened as usual.
The restaurant was full.
Customers laughed.
Waiters carried steaming dishes between tables.
Mei welcomed guests at the entrance.
Ken worked in the kitchen.
And at Table 7 sat Mr. Lim.
He raised his glass.
Across from him sat Hafiz.
Smiling.
Perfectly calm.
Perfectly normal.
Mr. Lim lifted his drink.
"To another successful season."
Hafiz smiled.
"To new beginnings."
Behind them, the pantry door slowly opened.
Beyond it waited the banquet hall.
Hundreds of ancient beings gathered around their tables.
Waiting.
Watching.
Choosing.
Because Lotus Table had never been built simply to feed people.
It had been built to cultivate them.
And somewhere beneath Kuala Lumpur, in a place that had existed long before the city itself, an ancient community was already preparing its next reservation.
They weren't choosing dinner.
They were choosing their next lives.
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