The mood was quiet, this bistro I was in. A small building with only two floors, I'm not surprised why not many people would want to come here.
There's always more to a place than the food it serves. The common crowd loves a large place where the lights are shiny, and the music is loud, playing songs that were already played at a mall or something. People have their tastes, and a place to eat is no exception.
There I was on the second floor, just before the small balcony over the street. The bistro was coated in warm colors; yellow on the outside and orange on the inside. A speaker was in the top right corner the floor I was on, and it was playing a smooth guitar solo. Of course after one song had a fast pace, it soon changed into a soft slow tune. A medley, some people call it.
Just a few meters away, from the staircase, a couple walked in.
"Where do you want to sit?" asked the man.
"How about here?" said the woman pointing to a table with a small lantern hanging on, and near the seat was a plant. "This place seems pretty empty."
The man pointed at my table, and the girl looked. "Oh! Sir." She nodded in politeness. "Eating alone?" she jokingly asked as I smiled.
The man rolled his eyes. "Stating the obvious?" He asked, before saying to me. "Sorry about that." I felt there was no need for him to say sorry. I can enjoy my time, regardless of the situation.
One of the few waiters here came up to the floor and approached my table, carrying my lunch.
"One steak, and one glass of cold water." He said before I thank him. He left me to eat, just as I took the fork and knife to cut the well done juicy steak. I ate bite after bite whilst drinking the water, its coldness chilling the inside of my throat. Eating this lunch and enjoying it reminds me of what my father taught me as a child.
That is, until he did something that truly impacted the lives of my mother and myself. It can be strange sometimes, when people give you a lesson in life and you consider their words, maybe take them on the go. The impact can be much more powerful and meaningful from somebody close, like family for instance.
***
My parents and myself, we used to live off the grid. We did not deny the modern world we lived in, but we tried to limit ourselves, make the best of what we have and what we can afford. We lived in a small house in a village just before the roads that lead to Sentul. My father worked with animals, in which he tends and cares for them before they would have to be sent to the slaughterhouse. While not a very large lover of meat, my father knew that the quality of animal meat had to be close to perfect, clean and edible. He spent most of his time managing the cattle, lamb and pigs. Our family managed a small farm behind our home.
Growing up, I helped my father take care of the animals. My first job was tending to the chickens in a coop he hand built, then have the eggs ready to be sold as produce. Sometimes we sell the eggs or milk from the cows to the locals around our neighborhood.
At some point, my father had taught me how to properly cut meat. He would demonstrate it first, then hand me a knife or cleaver depending on the meat cut, then cut it away into various pieces. I looked up to my father for being a hard-working, responsible and man who is able to guide the confused.
Then there was that day where I had just came back from the fields. I was helping our neighbor, who was a farmer, tending to his crops at piece of land he owned which was about a 20 minute walk from my home. The job was a secondary method of myself making my own money, something my mother supported as I had to look at options if I had to have my own job one day. My father gave me the key as he told me that morning in which he had to travel to Jakarta to seek a job. I arrived at home in the late afternoon, where I waited for him. By the time my mother arrived, she and I had made dinner and waited.
We always convinced ourselves to have a positive mindset each day, but that particular night was a struggle for us not to worry. She called him numerous times, and he never answered. It was a mystery I would never get to shed light upon, let alone have a hint. My mother couldn't be bothered to search for him even when she did speak to the police.
"We'll just have to do without him then." She said. "Do everything we can to address our own needs." If I ever had the chance to find my father, then I would probably question him, starting with a simple "why". Although most likely I'll probably grab him by the collar when I do ask him that.
My mother, although she was always there for me, had a small dose of paranoia in her veins running through her body. We moved to Bogor after selling our home and selling all that was left from the small farm. It was enough for us to get a small place in the city, but my mother had limited me in forming social connections.
"Moving to a new place is just like starting all over." She remarked. "Including the people around it. A city is the most likely place for trouble to be around." Deep down, I protested against her thoughts, as she had barely known the people here. Her limit for communication were services around town. Even as an adult, she limited myself when I had to go out for work and my own leisure time. Since we moved to the city, I had gotten work as a truck driver. I didn't make a lot, but it was enough and honest work.
By the time she had died of natural causes, I found myself at a split of emotions. One where I was free of her chains, and the other was remorse. Unlike my father, she stood by my side throughout my life until it was her time to go. A departure because of death, as much as it hurts, is understandable for me, as in my mother's case, at least she will rest in peace. My father on the other hand?
I do not wish anything bad to happen upon him, but I don't think I would ever want to encounter him again.
***
In the bistro, I went to the cashier and paid my lunch.
"How's business?" I asked the owner. He was managing the cashier. With this place being small, there aren't many other employees.
"Could have been better." He said sighing. "I may have to consider moving, or making the space behind larger. Even if you're this place's loyal customer, I doubt you would eat here all day every day."
I chuckled. "Well, I like the steak here."
"So you do. You've been here so many times. I never got your name.
"Armin."
"And I'm Joni." the owner said.
I looked to see a small green book next to the bell. Joni noticed.
"Oh, that's the reservation book." Joni recalled. "As unlikely I'll be able to get a ton of customers in this small bistro, I figured people want to make a reservation here?"
"So if I want to make a reservation I just write it in."
"As simple as that." Joni said. "Why? You plan on coming back here with friends or somebody special?"
"Nah, I prefer to eat by myself, get focused on eating rather than talking.
"I couldn't agree more."
***
By the time I've arrived home, I couldn't shake the feeling on loneliness.
Maybe I do need to meet people.
Before my mother passed, I did have friends around me, unfortunately none of them were the same as the ideal human being.
In short, well, they were from my head, created by my ever imaginative brain. Only I could see them and talk to them, talk about things they would understand and nobody else wouldn't. You could paint the picture. I didn't have many chances to relax, even before I arrived in Bogor, and well, it just got to me. As much as I hold a grudge against him, my father did have a point on making friends. "I could never name a single person in the history of mankind who lived their live by themselves." The message was clear, and I did have friends back in school.
Sadly, it only lasted until we all graduated, before they were busy with their own lives, doing….whatever is it they're doing.
Okay there was one particular person back in the local school back in the village, the one I attended as a child. He had a thing for bringing garlic cloves to school and eating it, and he was in the same class as me. We did play soccer together, but that was it.
I never knew his name, nor did I know where he went as I grew up. I always knew him as The Garlic Boy back then, although at this point he's probably The Garlic Man now.
I went back to a desk with an assembled old computer. I found it near a bin weeks ago, thinking I could use it. Rather than to spend my money on repairs, I had my tech savvy neighbor to help me with fixing and assembling it. Of course I had to purchase new parts including a mouse and keyboard. In exchange for helping him cut the grass in his backyard, he hooked me up with an internet connection, then at some point, it needed an update, which he was more than happy to help, even added something he called "a bonus."
"If you're too bored of the safe space on the internet, just click on this app." He once showed me an app he installed, it beared the logo of a black door, with the name DarkDoor.tor written on it. "It'll take you to interesting places."
I took his word serious, so by the time I turned on the computer, I clicked on DarkDoor.tor.
He was right.
This wasn't my first time on the internet. I've been there before DarkDoor.tor was installed. I have to say: it was kind of boring. I did read some articles, and learnt a bit about history. I've heard of several social media sites, like FriendRealm. I made myself a profile and looked at various people I could befriend. They all seemed the same by the time I chatted with them for half a day.
I wanted to find a friend who would stand by me not just by my side, but for the rest of my life as well. It wasn't really the whole common interests we would have, but a connector, the one big line that makes the friendship feel like family. My parents were gone. One passed away, and the other, he was gone, but not in a natural death kind of way.
By the time I opened DarkDoor.tor, it took me to a browser with a dark layout. Very fitting, I thought, as I typed in chat rooms. When I saw at least 28 pages, I knew this was going to talk a while.
Then something caught my eye.
Butcher's Bistro - a chat room for Cannibals.
I don't know who made this DarkDoor.tor, but whoever it was, they clearly weren't shy to show some morbid content. Although at this point, considering what I've been through with my parents, I couldn't care less about the absurdity of this site. I wanted to talk to somebody interesting, maybe somebody who would understand what I've been through. Cannibal or not.
Cannibalism. The idea of consuming human meat occurred to me when I was still helping my father manage the farm. He told me that meat varies not just in taste, but in culture as well. Some countries, they have cuisine that consists of unusual animal meat: Iguanas, spiders, and even rats. So by the time he told me those facts, I thought to myself, what about human meat? If my father told me that the world can be full of strange people, what the chances that one in a hundred strange people would be a cannibal?
I made myself a profile, and started chatting away, forming connections with people who have an interest in consuming human meat, if not being consumed.
I understood the picture, the consuming. Also, my father lectured me too often eat meat. "It makes you strong" he told me. I've consumed beef and chicken, so why not have a taste of human flesh while I'm at it? I cannot let the departure of my father and the passing of my mother become my pain. I need more strength to move on.
I had placed an ad on the forums for my request for consumption: Seeking an individual around 20-30 years of age to be butchered and consumed. Time went by, and I had yet to find someone willing to be consumed.
After no replies, I decided to give it through some users themselves. Many were hesitant and didn't want to. I politely told them that their refusal to my request was sympathetic. Nobody was going to be forced into this.
Until one day, after returning from my shift, I got a message from a user.
From: TheBlazin492:
I have read your ad. As with most of the people on this forum, I've always imagined myself being consumed bit by bit. Just the thought about it excites me, the thrill of it. While I agree to your terms, I would like you to confirm the time and location of our meeting, and to buy the following items I have pinned to the document below. Should you not be able to purchase all of the required items, I will send you money in advance. Notify me about your current financial situation, and your address so that the money will be sent to you by package.
I am offering you the chance to consume me. How you do it, is entirely up to you.
And if you ask me if I ever fear this, the simple answer would be no.