He never thought in a million years that his little dream would be the nesting ground of absolute abomination. Actually he did, but not in this sense. By naming it the "Black Hole", he was hoping to cash in on the very profitable and easily manipulated investment "the new generation"; the wannabe hipsters and so-called "revolutionary thinkers" who believe gruesome and depressing is synonymous with art. He was successful, of course. Manipulated those poor lost souls were, but he forgot to account for how fickle and trendy they were. They would invest hundreds of dollars a week into whatever garbage he gave them to "appease their individuality and cater to their appreciation for the underrated" and then disappear. They would go off to find something new to waste money in, but these guys were different. They came every day faithfully, at the same times faithfully, and sat in the same places faithfully. They were not only different in that way, but in who they are. At first he thought they were your typical nutcases. Now he is sure that they were placed here, in this café on purpose, as different elements of a compound more powerful than any atomic compound the human race could ever create. Should anything change in their routine that leads to them bonding together, we could be talking about World War III-no, the immediate extinction of all life on earth as we know it.

Oh dear...

Mr. Balinsky's day was winding down as usual. All the nameless and rude customers were coming in less and leaving sooner, and the sky was starting to tint into warmer colors. He started to prepare for his first guest of the evening by letting a bowl of water with a tea bag settle into the cool air. She arrived exactly 30 minutes later, like every day for the past year and a half. Ordered her coffee, requested a bowl of herbal water, and took her seat in a booth in the back. She opened up her bag, pulled out her laptop of some expensive looking and unknown brand, and began typing away.

She was one of the first regular customers who started coming by in the later hours. The girl was beautiful, to say the least. Comparing her to those twiglike models would be an insult to her, but comparing her to girls who usually look like her would be an insult also. She had a unique look to her. A sandpaper blonde hair that must have been long, as she wore it like a crown in a spiral bun on the back of her hair. Two strands rest across her shoulders laced in beads and ended at her elbows. Her skin was fair aside from a few little moles on her ears and was only slightly lighter than her hair.
The only problem was a travesty out of her control. Her eyelids were puffy, irritated, and red from the first moment he saw her and still are. Her eyes were even worse. They were hazy and dull like a dead fish and almost all the color in her pupils were gone. Mr. Balinsky just assumed it was a chemical damage of some sort. A few days, she had come in wearing a lab or doctor's coat, so she must of had an accident in her early years. Either way, she seemed to have embraced it. She was usually wearing red neon thick rimmed glasses that drew attention directly to them. Even though she wasn't completely blind, she had a seeing eye dog that was just as elegant as she was. A black, white, and gold colored saluki that was mild mannered and, according to her, enjoyed the café 's herbal tea as much as she enjoyed the coffee.

After 15 minutes have passed, Mr.Balinky started to prepare for his next customer.

Next guy coming trough door was another evening regular, this time wildly looking fella in worn brown coat and pair of shades framing his gaunt face. He came every evening, right after dusk, sit by the tabke in shady corner, ordered turkish cofee so strong it could wake up corpses form their graves and then spent rest of night writing notes in his small leather-bound notebook.
He was a tall guy, almost head taller then other costumers, but due to his slender and somehow unmuscular frame, he never actually sticked out of crowd. Atleast not because of his figure
His face was gaunt and leathery with sharp features franed by untamed mess of a pale blond hair. Mister Balinsky never properly seen his eyes, man always wore his sunglasses , even in sparsely lit place like his humbe cofé. Their glass was as black as night, but he never showed that any problems with seeying anything.
Appart from his glasses, man´s only other distinctive trait was moodiness. Once he looked all happy and relaxed and second later he resembled angered wolf. He has never caused any trouble, but mister Balinsky still felt he ought to keep an eye on him.

The third guest followed much later than the rest. After a few more customers came in and out and the sun was resting on the ground, another of the late night crew came in. The way he dressed and carried himself had made Mr.Balinsky guessed he was a college student. He wore a Mickey Mouse beanie with curling red hairs peaking out the edges, contrary to the dark brown, almost black ponytail resting on the top of his backpack. Balinsky assumed the red is his natural color, as it matched the red soul patch and the green eyes.
This guy was a lot more lively than the other two. He would order his coffee, sit down at the counter, and talk to Mr. Balinsky while drinking it. They would always start with talking about the day, the weather, and whatever party he planed on going to after he leaves the café. Afterwards, he pulls out his portable game system, but continues talking until closing hours. The most recent thing they got into habit of doing is looking at the news and commenting on the crimes and current events. From that, Mr.Balinsky learned that he was brighter than he lets on to be.
Finally, at about 25 minutes before closing hours, the last customer of the day arrives.

Last costumer stepping in was also looking like university student of some kind or a smartass atlest. He came pretty late like he always did. Sometimes it looked like he just stopped by to drink his daily dose o overly sugerly fruit tea, somekind of ritual of his. The guy was more a boy then a man, no much older then twenty years.
His face could be called pretty handsome, in some roguish kind of way, with bright blue eyes hiding little sparks of mischief, all topped by nest of annonimously brown hair tied in dozen or more dreadlocks.
He wore usual uniform of his kind. Unzipped green hoodie with comfortable T-shirt under it, old, worn jeans of pale blue colour and pair of painfully white sneakers so bright they shine in dark.. Shirt had wannabe funny caricature of rastafarian smoking a joint with text bubble saying "Why walk, when you can fly?" and Balinsky could tell, that this guy flew a lot. Or atleast his nose could tell from slight scent of cannabis that hang around him.
Altough the guy looked like some one who hardly works most of the time, today he had visage of hard working person and he just tiredly sit on randomly picked chair, dropped his bag of books down like it was the heaviest burden on the Earth and ordered cofee for a change, but he still wanted it so sweet it was almost cocoa.

Mr.Balinsky found himself slightly amused by this change in routine, but within seconds, things were back to normal. They stayed that way until five minutes before closing when the girl suddenly packed her stuff, rose from her seat, and walked over to Mr.Balinsky. All eyes were on her as she approached him and looked at Balinsky with an expressionless face. "Mr. Barista, I have a request to make.". Balinsky looked at her puzzled. "What may I do for you, mam?" She adjusted her glasses and spoke slowly, as if she was thinking out every word. "There was an accident at my residence earlier today. It left one of my dogs injured and the others in a safer location just for tonight. I feel uncomfortable leaving them alone for tomorrow. Could I bring all my dogs with me to the café? I ensure that they are just as trained and well mannered as this one." Balinsky was still dumbfounded that she could communicate outside of greetings and ordering coffee. "Er...sure. I trust you.". The girl thanked him and went on his way.
Balinsky's chatty companion watched the whole thing unfold and looked around the café. "Where the hell did she come from?" Balinsky was registering the words she had spoken. all of the dogs? "She is a long time customer. She sits in the back booth every day." The boy rubbed his chin. "Every day, huh...actually, all these guys here come every day. Don't we deserve something like a VIP lounge or something? At least a discount?"
Balinksy didn't see the harm in it at the time. Afterall, they deserved it at this point. He kept the idea in mind, unaware that tomorrow would mark the beginning of the worst chain of events mankind has ever known.

The next day, Balinsky went on his routine as usual, thinking occasionally about the surprise he had planned for his guests occasionally through the day. Once things went their normal route; customers leaving faster than they are going in, the brightness outside beginning to fade, he began his preparations. He had turned the elevated booth area into something sort of a lounge room and moved out the chairs and tables dividing it from the balcony area. In the lounge area had two t.vs with one hooked up to a game system. Nothing too flashy, just enough to show his appreciation.
Soon enough, the girl was first to enter, not with two or three more dogs, but SIX at her side. A weimarainer, a scottish dearhound (who seemed to have a front leg and his neck wrapped in bandage) , a silver shar pei , a black and white shepherd husky mix, and a salt and pepper schnauzer all tagged along with her usual saluki, carrying an air much like the dog. As she promised, the dogs were very calm and spent their time under her seat by her foot, but that didn't keep Mr. Balinsky from being a bit unsettled.

Second guest came thirty minutes after woman. The young student with dreadlocks came unusually early. He had widespread smile on his lips and his eyes were glassy and red like pair of rubies. The guy was clearly high, that was for sure, but his peace was short timed one.
It needed only one slight look on pack of dogs in café for him to change from floating cloud of tranquility to bag of broken nerves. His eyes became wide open and his knees started to shake. He was clearly terrified by sight of so many dogs, probably animal phobia of some kind.
"Do not show fear, the dogs can smell it...They can smell your fear... Your fear... Fear..." his lips whispered like soothing mantra of some kind. He shrugged and took a very deep breath and carefully stepped in and made his way to the end as far from the dogs as much as it was possible. Despite being scared almost to the limits of his sanity, he was still determined to get his cup of sweet tea. sugar calmed nerves after all.

Mr.Balinsky had noticed the severe shifts in energies from the young man and started to worry that this would be a problem. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) Mr.Balinsky was bit on the spineless side. Seeing how the dogs were not hurting anyone and his customer stayed and ordered a drink anyway, nothing could go wrong, right? Mr.Balinsky noted how one little difference broke the routine of three out of four of his visitors. Looking over at the man in the brown coat, he began to wonder what job or life he leads that makes him so adamant, quiet, and static about the events going on around him.
His train of thought was broken by the entrance of the last guest, who was especially enthusiastic and talkative today. "Wow. Everybody is here and I'm just holding up the party, eh? Lets see what we have here."
The kid scoped around the area with a hand placed under his chin like an art critic. "Nice, nice. We've got the balcony for the Canine Crew and the game system for the bros. Comfy looking chairs. I think this qualifies for a V.I.P lounge."
Mr. Balinsky smiled. " I am glad you enjoy it. I hope everyone else does to. Please, order whatever you want today. You've more than paid your share through your extraordinary commitment."
The girl seemed to have a slight smile on her face in light of the events transpiring. She headed outside to the balcony with her pack so they could stretch her legs, though the saluki remained close to her side. The red head eased his way over to the other collage student with a smile. "So, you up for some pvp or co-opp? You've got to have at least one game in that bag of yours."