Before the sun rises, I was always up to start my morning. The coffee machine would start brewing as I would put two pieces of bread in the toaster. Newspapers were no longer being produced so I relied on my newspad for real-time updates around the world.
The city of Brighton was still covered in fog as the trees around my house were dewy despite the gloomy weather. It played a role as to what I was feeling today – foreboding. However, despite the chilly climate, I have to be at work today. I got ready after finishing my toast and a cuppa coffee. The drive was only a few blocks away from the restaurant I owned around this neighborhood. I was always the first one to arrive and the last to leave after it closes. The little time I had alone would give me the chance to check if everything was in order. It was important for me to keep up a reputable establishment.
The recipes used from my menu were passed on from my family's generation to generation. My great grandfather was quite the cook back in his days. One of his best-selling recipes was the Sussex pond pudding. The suet pastry encased a whole lemon inside and was sweetened with butter and sugar. It sure was an archaic dessert dish that could still be enjoyed through this day.
As I unlocked the door, there was this grim presence that blanketed across the room.
"Huh, odd," I muttered to myself.
Reaching for the light switch, I was momentarily blinded by the bright fluorescent light, finally able to see the whole place. It was Friday which meant people who worked from the building across the street were going to pour in by lunchtime. An extended lunch should have been expected since they were ready to leave for work to start the weekend.
I walked into the kitchen to do some mise en place for the stock and the vegetable dishes that we were serving today. After wearing my apron and tying a bandana on my head, I reached out to the wall magnetic holder to get a knife, only to find it empty. My head turned to see all the knives were gone from the wall.
I explicitly had remembered everything was in place before I left last night. There was no other way that a person could break into this restaurant. I ran to the cash register to check if there were any money missing. It was untouched and no sign of forcible entry. My eyes darted around the room to see if anything was out of place. There wasn't a single clue as to how the knives went missing. I also have an hour left before everyone arrives for their shift.
If this was a sick joke to scare me then, it could work. Of all the things that could be missing, they targeted my knives. I walked around the restaurant and checked all the dark corners to see if someone was hiding or left any evidence. My hand was already buried deep inside my pocket as I gripped the small switchblade that I kept in case of any life-threatening emergency.
"Come out now!" I yelled in annoyance, trying to intimidate whoever was playing this awful prank.
I was only returned with silence.
"This isn't funny anymore. People here need to work," I chided.
There was a quick movement from my peripheral vision and when I abruptly turned my head, it disappeared. I took a deep breath and trudged to the kitchen pantry where I thought I saw something. The switchblade that I was holding was now out of my pocket. With silent footsteps, I carefully went inside. The light was still off so I wasn't able to see if there was anyone hiding behind the shelves. As soon as the light flooded the room, I saw a foot quickly hid away behind the canned goods rack. I raised my hand with the switchblade in case he or she decided to attack.
I had been a retired military veteran before I became a chef. This type of situation wasn't as worse from what I experienced back in Iraq. If this was just a foolish attempt to rob my restaurant, then he was going to regret his decision to cross me. I glanced behind the rack to see a woman slumped on the ground, bloodied and shaking with fear. She looked up when she noticed I was already in front of her.
"What are you doing here?" I asked in demand.
"P-please don't hurt me. Just let me go, please," crying for mercy, she pleaded with her hands.
"How did you get in here, luv?"
A look of confusion crossed her eyes, appalled by the fact that I was asking. She was hesitant to answer, so she stayed silent.
I asked her another question, "Do you have anything to do with my missing knives?"
She shook her head and dropped her eyes to the ground. Since I wasn't getting any answers right now then I had no choice but to bring her to my office so I could call for help.
"Here, let me help you," I offered, reaching out to help her stand up.
But then, she suddenly bloody screamed into my ear, "No!!! Please!!! Help!!!"
"Hey, hey! It's okay. Let's get you fixed up," My patience was wearing thin. The bad weather perfectly depicted how my day was going to start. I helped her up and guided her into the office. She was sobbing quietly and limped as she struggled to keep up with my steps. Putting her down gently, I made my way over to my desk and pretended to fiddle with the phone. I could see the cabinet that situated at the right side of the room was slightly ajar. This was not a good sign.
I needed to buy more time. Opening the top drawer to my desk, I grabbed a kitchen towel and gave it to the woman. She accepted it and wiped her tears.
"Wait here, I'll get you a glass of water."
The woman was smart to hide all my knives. I had no idea how she managed to sneak out from the secret room behind the cabinet I had kept since I built this restaurant. This slip up was inexcusable and very irresponsible on my part. Good thing the locks didn't work from the inside; I didn't want a public scandal.
It was time to fix my mistake and get rid of her as neatly as possible. I was running out of time. True to my word, I brought her a glass of water to drink. She gulped it down almost immediately. I haven't fed her for a few days now. I had more plans to torture her beautiful skin.
The art of carving a human was exceptional that only a number of us could appreciate this type of fixation. Seeing her porcelain skin and taint it with jagged lines as I pressed a knife across her body satisfied me immensely. This fascination started during the war in the 90s after I had accidentally first killed an innocent woman. There was a certain beauty in seeing her eyes dull out as the life left her body. Her face was devoid of any emotion. She didn't have time to suffer her pain. Her body painted by her own blood with the bullet through the chest.
I craved to see more of it. As a public servant to the government, I had a hard time hiding what I truly desired. It took me years to set up a place where no one could suspect a thing. It was the perfect front to hide all of my unusual flaws.
"I w-want to go home. P-please," she begged.
"I know, luv." without her noticing, I slowly pushed the door closed and locked it.
She heard the click and looked up to see me smile down at her, reassuring that she was safe. However, it raised many red flags on her end and jumped up in fear.
"Y-you're him!"– recognition finally dawned on her – "Help!!!" She yelled in desperation and instinctively pushed herself away from me.
I clenched my teeth in irritation, "No one's going to hear you from the outside. Now be a good girl and get back inside."
She just had to make things difficult. When she walked into the restaurant a week ago, I was mesmerized by her fair complexion. She was with her two other friends, but she stood out the most. I had given her and her company a complimentary pudding to lure her into a conversation. We were finally introduced until I managed to invite her alone over for dinner. I closed the restaurant on that certain day to give into a private event that I had supposedly hosted. We had a good time over a glass of wine after I had prepared a scrumptious dinner. After a grueling date and dine, it was finally time to play.
This was a feisty one and it made it more of a challenge to cut her up beautifully. I stayed calm while she circled around the room, trying to avoid me. She had underestimated my strength, but I had to give her the benefit of the doubt. I was going to let her think she could still have a chance of escaping.
"Help me!!!" another failed attempt of screaming for help.
I tutted her in warning not to anger me more. But of course, like all of my victims, they have failed to disarm me. This wasn't fun anymore. I grabbed her and positioned her hands on her back while I locked her legs with mine to stop her from kicking me. She cried in pain and it was a shame.
"Let's not make the same mistake again, luv. We all know where you're going to end up."