As I stepped out of the elevator into the dimly lit room, I was greeted by a goth-looking employee, dressed in black, pseudo-victorian attire, who led me to my room, taking slow and measured steps. The interior has a crimson and black scheme, lit with candles and decorated with skulls, crosses, and, of course, coffins, which I guess goes on par with the theme.
The restaurant isn't so big, and it wasn't long until I was lead into a small, private table with a red curtain to separate me from the main hall. "This is the victim's room," the waiter said calmly, showing me a map. He instructed me to ring a bell when I was ready to order.
The Gorgonzola cheese fettuccine and the banana-tinged Vampire's Castle cocktail |
What I enjoyed the most was the waiter's sudden way of barging through the red curtains of the room whilst still wearing the same void facial expression. I tried to take a picture with him, but he said, to my chagrin, "I do not appear on photographs." Ah, you smooth bastard, I wanted to reply.
Altogether, thanks to the waiter though, it was a pretty fun experience, I'd say. Try it, but bare in mind what I said about the food.
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