Hells KitchenMature

The roast beef was dry, it had dried out under the hot lamps on the carvery plate.

It looked inedible.

"I asked you to put some kind of stock in with the meat to stop it from drying out. Why didn't you do it? It's a simple task."

Alex looked at the head chef with a look of fear and dissapointment in himself. He hated messing up like this, especially over somthing so simple. A simple order that he neglected to follow from his superior. Somthing, as a budding chef, he should have known to do himself.

Now, they had another angry customer thanks to him.

Not that it mattered now, because the customer who had complained was dead. Her face looking somthing like the dry meat she'd complained about, it was that leather like but also rancid.

The cooks knife protuded from her eye socket an Alex struggled to get a grip as he pulled it out. Sluggish spurts of blood came out as he pulled it from the wound. He expected a sickening "pop" sound like in a comic book or a movie, but he didn't hear anything like that.

He'd been downstairs in the dry store room whilst the attacks had happened, and it was there he had stayed out of sight. He waited for the sound of sirens or any other sign that help was on the way, but all he could hear instead was the feasting sounds and the sorrowful moans of the dead.

He wouldn't be getting any over time for this.


The End

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