Work Text:
“W-what sub would, you like, uh, sir?”
Fear was not an emotion oft associated with a Subway. But the appearance of a seven foot tall simulacrum known far and wide for his propensity for murder and mile long sadistic streak was as fine a reason for fear to settle in to the very bones of the sandwich establishment.
“Spicy Chicken. Italian Herbs and Cheese.” Came the low growl in response.
Nodding perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, the Subway employee dashed to the bread storage, selecting the desired loaf and returning to the bench, slicing it open. He did his best to not wilt under the patron’s piercing gaze as he loaded the bread with meat.
“What salad today, s-sir?”
“Cucumber. Tomatoes. Olives.”
The employee nodded again, this time the trepidation causing him to bend his whole body as he rushed to fill the request.
Right as he was finishing, another rumble came from his patron.
“More olives, skinbag.”
Hands shaking, he complied, sliding the sub down the bench.
“What sau-”
He was cut off before he could finish.
“Honey Mustard. No salt or pepper.”
The sniff that rang out as he finished wrapping the finished sandwich would haunt his nightmares for years to come.
“Delicious. Here is my Subway Club Card.”
The shaking, human hand of the employee contrasted harshly to the perfectly still, metal one of the simulacrum before him.
He rang up the order, nearly dropping the card, handing the neatly wrapped sub to the metal monstrosity in front of him.
“I’m not thanking you.” Came the angry rasp as he deposited a twenty dollar note in the tip jar, turning and stalking out of the establishment silently, only small clinks of metal sounding in the dead quiet space.
Making his way across the parking lot, Revenant found his vehicle. A 1964 Volkswagen Beetle in Bahama Blue. A real classic. Not something the other tasteless competitors of the came would understand. Maybe Loba, he thought with a chuckle. She knew high class when she saw it.
Entering his car he sat hunched over, frame much too large for the small cabin, knees bent up against the steering wheel. It would have been uncomfortable, had he still been human. One of the perks of being a soul trapped within a metal husk, he thought.
Unwrapping his sandwich, he brought it up to his mouth. If he could salivate, his mouth would have watered. With anticipation, he bit down on the sandwich, and…
Nothing. No taste. None of the signature Spicy Chicken burn he had loved so much in life. He had waited nearly two hundred years for it to return to Subway, and now… He couldn’t even taste it. Before he knew it, his massive frame was shaking, wracked with sobs. He could no longer cry, but his voice box still synthesized his mewls of anguish as he let the sandwich slide back into the paper curled up into himself.
------
“Hey, Loba?”
“Hm?”
“I’m uh, not dreaming, am I?”
“Come on Kairi, I know getting to spend time with me is a lofty wish for many people, but…” Loba’s voice trailed off as she followed her friend’s finger to where it pointed to Revenant, hunched over in a car much too small for him sobbing loudly against the steering wheel, his pathetic cries just loud enough to reach them.
“Que porra?”