"Hello and welcome to my fine establishment, I am The Chef. Please have a seat...Oh, I'm sorry you seem concerned with the mess. Well let me assure you, you don't have to worry about this little grotesque scene. " The Chef snaps his fingers and The hellish nightmare that is the surrounding area covered in blood and human remains swiftly vanishes. "Now then where was I? Oh yes that's right you happened to have the unfortunate luck of walking into my domain, my hunting grounds, my restaurant." The Chef walks over to a table and grabs an assortment of knives. Then as casually as he walked over to the table he walks back over to you. He gestures for you to take a seat in the nearby chair you could have sworn wasn't there before. "Please have a seat."
Sensing something isn't right you shake your head and attempt to leave. This was a mistake on your part. A devilish grin travels across The Chef's face. "Disobeying a chef's orders." The Chef picked up the biggest knife on the table, a stainless steel cleaver covered in what appeared to be the blood of his latest victim. " Don't you know that in the kitchen the chef's orders are final? You should never go against them or else the food might go bad." You run for the nearest exit, grabbing both handles you pull the doors back as hard as you can...only to have every last ounce of hope of ever escaping shattered. "Oh I see, you've finally noticed that we are no longer in the realm of...reality." You shake your head in utter disbelief and scream for an explanation. "Such unruly behavior, If you want a question answered...You ask politely!" With that last word The Chef swings his cleaver down hard and fast. Severing several of your fingers. The pain is immensely unbearable and brings tears to your eyes. As you scream out in pain, watching the crimson liquid pour out from your now gaping wounds The Chef gets uncomfortably close to you. "Now then if yo want a question answered you do what?" Through your pained sobs you utter the words, politely."Good, Good now please ask your question again well I get the stew pot ready."
Not wanting a repeat of what happened before you ask your question politely this time. If you aren't in the realm of reality where are you? "Oh that is a good question." He retorts waving a knife at you. "You are in my unholy realm of death and dismay. There is no escape once you enter here." He pauses and laughs. "Well unless you happen to be poor, you see the poor have too much of a bitter taste to them.Inedible livestock if you will, therefore I pray on the rich and higher class. They take excellent care of their bodies so their meat taste oh so much more satisfying." After hearing this you feel a sudden idea coming on, maybe if you can lie to him he'll let you go...but what's this? He's standing there waving a finger at you with a grin on his face... no he couldn't know what you had planned could he? "Lying? Really I'm ashamed, here I thought we were having a good time, talking and making a meal...of you." He slammed the cleaver down into a nearby table. His expression twisted dramatically, contorting into one showing off extreme anger. "You not only disobey my orders as a chef, you not only try to escape from my fine establishment, but you also try to lie to me! What is next are you going to insult my cooking?!" The Chef takes one look at you, then violently grabs you by your arm and pulls you over to where he had placed the cleaver. "I'll make you taste my cooking before the thought of you ever insulting my food pops inside your useless cranium!" Panic quickly sets in and you struggle attempting to get free, sadly this is all in vain. In one last ditch effort you throw a strong right hook attempting to knock The Chef off his feet...It fails miserably and only helps to anger The Chef even more. "Resorting to violence in my kitchen! This will not be tolerated." Stronger then before he pulls you over to the table where the cleaver is and slams your hand hard on it, causing it to go numb for a mere second. He pulls the cleaver out of the table and raises it above his head, with a grin filled with white teeth he utters an unforgettable phrase. "Bonn apatite!" The cleaver comes down at a supernatural speed as if cutting through the air itself. With a sickening crunch the cleaver completely cuts your hand away from your body. The pain is so intense you can't even manage to scream and you immediately black out.
After several hours you come too, strapped down to the chair you were originally offered in the beginning. Your vision blurred, a swift and hard blow to your face wakes you completely. "Hello again dear patron, it seems you dosed off on me. Don't worry I understand completely, the sweet aroma from a kitchen can put me to sleep sometimes as well. However please stay awake this time, you have to taste all my new dishes." The chef smiles and turns away from you, walking over to a large pot. Beside this pot is a cutting board lined with freshly sliced vegetables, herbs, and your now skinned hand. "I'll tell you skinning this one." He waves your hand in the air so you can see it. "Skinning this one, was no easy task. The skin was tough and the muscles and tendons just did not want to let go. However I know my way around a knife and after several hours...oh you've been out for about six hours now by the way...Anyways after a few hours I had the entire hand skinned. I left the bones in on purpose, I find that they give the stew a different flavor." A stew made from your hand? This was impossible, no one in their right mind would eat another human. Then again The Chef wasn't someone in the right mindset, let alone human. "Mmm I can't wait to see how this stew taste, I know we'll both enjoy it." You'll both enjoy it? Who could he possibly be talking about. As he continues cooking, you begin to look around your surroundings for any means of escape or a possible way to kill this...creature. "You wouldn't believe this but basil goes exceptionally well with human meat, carrots however are very tricky. If you add to many they over power the meat, yet if you add to few you can't taste them at all. Strange isn't it?" What was he going on about? You could careless what goes with what at this point. All you want to do is get as far away from this wretched place as possible. Knowing very well the consequences you will face, you begin struggling in your chair trying to break free from your restraints. "Please don't struggle you will only taint your meat further and we can't have that now can we?" How careless of you, he heard what you were doing, now he is fully aware that you are still trying to escape.
"I do wish you would really just forget about this whole escaping business, you have seen what lies outside and you have even lost a hand, due to your rudeness and failed escape attempt. Why can't you just accept your fate already?" The Chef stirs the pot mixing all the ingredients, he then places a lid on the pot and lets everything sit and boil. "Now then let's talk about fate shall we?" The Chef grabs a chair and slides it in front of you, he adjusts his coat and sits down. "Fate, it's truly a strange thing isn't it, it can be altered by doing the simplest things. Such as waking up on the right side of the bed or stepping out of your house with your left foot first. Truly it is a marvelous thing, that not even creatures like myself can comprehend." The Chef's manner of speech changes quickly into a more serious tone. "However there is something that is and will always remain constant. When your number is up, you must bid farewell to your world. It's truly saddening knowing that one must perish and let their meat go to waste, but I am not one to tempt fate." You look into The Chef's eyes, fear and confusion radiating from your own. "Why do I bring this up you ask? Well simply because I do not want you thinking I harbor any ill feeling towards you. Your number was simply up and I had the luck of being the one to... well take your life."
You're time was up? you can't and won't believe this, you're to young to die especially like this! You scream and panic resorting to name calling and vulgar language. How dare this creature try to steal your life from you, was your hand not enough. This angered The Chef greatly, he stood up and kicked away the chair he was sitting on. He rushed over to the counter and grabbed a large chopping knife. "Didn't we have this conversation before?!" He walked back over to you clenching the knife tightly, so tight his knuckles were turning white. "You will apologize and remain calm and quiet for the rest of your stay here!" You looked up at The Chef and spit in his face,cursing him to an eternal damnation in hell. Enough was enough, The Chef had grown tired of this ridiculous behavior. With the same supernatural like speed he quickly brought the knife cascading down and into your leg, piercing the skin and muscle, eventually getting the blade lodged inside the bone. Well twisting it he whispered into your ear. "The food is done, you're going to eat every last bite and you better enjoy it."
He let go of the knife to go and serve you, but not before quickly turning around and slamming his palm on the knife. Causing it travel deeper into your leg. Garnishing that well deserved scream of pain that was music to his ears. "Ah there it is! Even those who try to act brave falter under intense pain." He laughs maniacally as he grabs a worn and chipped bowl and a bent spoon. With a rusty ladle he begins pouring the stew into the bowl, making sure to grab a nice big chunk of meat for you. "Hmm it seems you're behavior has caused me to misjudge the time it takes to cook a hand of your size. Oh well you will eat it anyways." With the bowl in hand he walks back over to you and scoops up some of the food with a spoon."Say ahh." You look down and see your fingers floating in the bowl and one on the spoon. This was crazy, tears ran down your face as the spoon got closer. You begin begging him to not feed you this, vile mess. "Oh you wish to feed yourself? Okay I can allow that." He places the bowl down and unstraps your remaining hand. He hands you the spoon with the finger in it. " Quickly now before it gets cold." You watch as The Chef stares at you intently waiting for your approval. However you had bigger plans then eating your own finger. "Come on what are you waiting for? Is it too hot? Here let me blow on it for you." He takes the spoon and gently blows on it cooling it down.It is at this moment that you strike shoving the metal spoon deep into The Chef's eye socket.
He lets out a thunderous roar of agony as he spastic-ally tries to pull the spoon out of his eye. Quickly with your adrenaline flowing you yank the knife out of your leg and use it to cut the remaining straps. You knew there was no chance at escape, but what ever was outside waiting for you had to be better then that damn chef. Limping, you made your way slowly towards the exit. The pain made walking near unbearable. Yet you force through the pain and manage to get closer to the door. However the sound of metal clattering on the floor causes your heart to sink, as you slowly turn around to see The Chef standing enraged with the very cleaver that cut off your hand, in his hand once again. "I will admit you have a tenacity for escape the likes of which I rarely get to see, but you have tainted your meat far to much and now I have to dispose of you. For shame I was really looking forward to eating all the delicious parts of you." You abruptly turn around and begin limping faster towards the door, reaching out for the handle...however it is all for naught. The Chef grabs you and spins you around violently, breaking your injured leg completely causing you to fall to the ground. Full aware of what is to come next, you close your eyes and whisper your final goodbyes under your breath. "Bonn apatite!" With these two simple words the cleaver swings down and travels completely through your neck, cracking the bone and severing the spinal cord. Your death is almost instantaneous.
The Chef bends down and picks up your head. "Such a shameful waste of good meat, if only you had listened to me in the beginning." He open's the exit and holds your head outside it. "Is this what you so desperately tried to reach? An endless void of nothing?" Walking away from the door, he placed your head on a counter and returned to your now slumped over body. "Outside is where the trash belongs." With one swift movement he tosses your body out into the void. "Now then onto more important things." The Chef elegantly walks over to the counter where he placed your head and digs through a drawer, eventually pulling out a flaying knife. "You see even though you tainted your precious meat, I can always use you to get more." Slowly he makes a cut along your hairline and begins slicing the flesh away from the muscle and bone. " You have a young face, so that must mean your parents are still alive. Fathers have a tough but strong taste to them, were as mothers are soft to chew and leave a sweet delicate taste on your tongue."
The Chef ponders his choices for a while as he finishes cutting your face away from your skull. He walks into another room and looks into a mirror. "Time to see how I look with my new...face." Haphazardly he puts your flesh onto his own and makes minor adjustments. "Perfect, I look exactly like you, your parents will never suspect a thing." Taking the flesh off he looked at his wounded eye and grunted. surely he would have to rest a bit for it to heal. " This is going to cause many delays and problems, best take care of it now." He exited the room and walked back into the kitchen, opened a large metal door and placed your face on one of the metal racks. "This freezer should be more then good enough to keep this fresh. If not when I awaken I shall just find a new victim to use as bait."
With this he slammed the freezer door shut and exited the kitchen, walking into a dimly lit room with only a coffee table and a single bed in it. On the coffee table sat an old newspaper that had blown into his restaurant one day, it was the only reading material he had but he never grew board of reading it. He took his coat off, folded it up and placed it on the table. Next he laid down on the bed and covered his eye. With a sinister laugh he spoke but one phrase. "The Chef's surprise truly is to die for." With that The Chef began to fall into a deep slumber laughing maniacally to himself.