They were nine.

Nine faceless shadows; nine empty beings.

When the ninth crossed the door’s threshold, it thought the house had an uncanny warmth. More like a welcome, yet barely a solace. Its light was bright, yet the colors were bleak.

Dead.

The door closed on its own, yet the new shadow found itself staring at a pair of crystal-white eyes. They shone as if they had their own glow—their own warmth—yet their gaze was still cold.

“Hello. How may I be of service today?”

The voice was serene, cultured. Soft. It echoed through the wide room, reaching the shadow from all directions.

The shadow did not move.

The person smiled, ever so subtly, finishing wiping an empty glass.

“It must have been difficult—to find your way here. Not many do. Today has been unexpectedly busy.”

As Ninth turned, it soon found others. Eight faceless figures sat on their chairs, staring at nowhere. Some shifted their gazes, meeting the newcomer’s. In those brief seconds they spared to recognize Ninth’s presence, that person’s voice echoed again.

The sound was luring, almost melodic.

“Since you arrived, why won’t you sit with the others? I will bring something for you soon.”

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The person wore a simple bistro, black apron alongside a white shirt with an elegant bow tie, with three bows on top of each other, held together by a white flower clip. Behind the person, there were numerous bottles filled with the most varied liquids and colors.

Spread around the space, the candlelights provided just enough light to make the space inviting, the long poseur table promising many things the shadow had long since forgotten their meaning.

Ninth made its way to an empty chair, soundless, sitting with reluctance.

The nine shadows faced each other, all sat in a circle. They stood there, motionless. Silent.

But then they all turned in the same direction, all at once, when the sounds began to echo.

Ice.

Glass.

Small metal tools.

Pouring liquids.

Each shadow watched that person grab things and mix them. Assemble them. At times there were bursts of fire, at others smoke and sparks. Yet before long, the person came to them at a slow pace.

Carrying one single drink in a small tray.

As the person stopped right beside Ninth, it extended the tray to the shadow on its left. Smiling.

“This one was prepared just for you—I am certain you will find it to your taste.”

The shadow continued to stare at the person for long seconds before its gaze lowered, falling to the drink. Ninth also changed its focus, eying the new creation with a new found curiosity.

The glass was tall and curvy, and it was as if whenever the ice cubes touched and tilted against each other, they played musical notes. Like a song. The drink started with a dark liquid, getting lighter and lighter until it became a vivid and deep red, with hints of gold sparkling from within.

The shadow finally reached out for the drink, leaning closer so it could smell it. The shadow’s body shook and oscillated, the sudden movements making all the others freeze in within their stilled nature.

When the shadow took the first sips, a red glow spread in its body. Changing its form, if ever so slightly. The shadows took in a sharp breath, its eyes became more alert, wide, and shocked.

They all heard a voice then, one accompanied by a long, tired sigh.

“I… Remember…”

Ninth stared at the speaking shadow with an aching desire. One it could not name or understand. Yet Ninth knew, somehow, it would understand things more if it listened to those words.

To the notes being sung by the small ice cubes.