AN - This is a shitty drabble. I don't even know.
When Felix pulls up to the small diner, he notices the lights on the large, blocky-letter sign as they blink out periodically. In the dark of the night, the colors look brighter and much more lively. He finds them amusing.
Entering the diner is worse, however, as the area reminds him very much of Silent Hill. The counter is a pale grey-perhaps sepia?-and he thinks it was white a long time ago. Yes, Felix decides, as he notices the stains and the dust, a very long time ago. There is no one inside, though the fluorescent lights shine brightly at him and he feels like they're some sort of mockery to his growling stomach.
Felix sighs and it reverberates.
"Uh, hello?" He calls out, voice tight with fear and a little bit of annoyance. It really, really reminds Felix of Silent Hill. Now, there just needs to be some fog, ominous music, and a bloody rabbit.
Felix decides that he will get no answer and wanders around. He glances at the tables, the typical retro fashion that you never find in anything but small towns and cities that hope to achieve nostalgia. They're all just as grimy and disgusting as the counter. He continues, walking up to the wall where a picture stares back at him.
"Looking good, Elvis," he informs the black-and-white portrait. Felix can swear he sees a thick coat of dust clinging to it. The frame is wooden and splintered. Felix decides it's still too quiet and a chill is rising up his spine (why, oh why did he take this dare to go out here at night all alone?).
"Anyone here?" Felix tries again, receiving no reply. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a moving shadow. Felix dismisses it as his over-active imagination and laments watching that horror movie marathon on television last night.
Felix's eyes ache from the lights hanging above him and he hopes the cord doesn't snap since they hang at such an unsafe angle. He takes a seat in one of the booths and ignores the squeak of his shoes against the checker-board floor. The floor looks even worse, he thinks, with some of the squares rising up and allowing what is underneath to peek through.
There's mold in one corner of the restaurant and it seems like the mold is trying to create some sort of army against the rest of the world. He thinks it might be because of how many people hate mold. Felix kind of wants to pity the mold.
Felix hears a noise.
His brain, the traitorous monster that it is, immediately jumps to the conclusion that this noise is of the serial killer getting up from his century-long slumber as he awakens from the curse placed upon him. He also imagines said serial killer finding an axe and chasing him with it.
Felix chastises his mind, trying to erase the ideas of the glass of his car window being shattered to smithereens. He also rids himself of the image of said axe beheading him. Felix needs to stop watching horror movies, and he really wishes he was much pure within his mind. By pure, he means that he wished he hadn't seen so much scary stuff that he's already trying to decide whether he's meant to be comic relief or a main character.
He hopes he's a main character.
Felix hears another noise. It's louder. He jumps in his seat and releases a grunt of pain at his landing. He's pretty sure he just murdered his backside from that jump, Felix laments as he proceeds to run from the diner.
He starts up his car and gets the fuck out of there.
From inside the diner, an elderly woman with short, curly black hair enters the diner. She's surprised to see no one is there. "Those darn teenagers," the woman mutters, massaging her forehead with a wrinkled, bony hand.