Usually by the time she got in things were in full swing and she'd barely have the time to hang her coat up in the staff room before being rushed out to the kitchen. Today the lights were on, the tables were neatly stacked to one side and there wasn't a single sound to be heard. Even the air felt empty and cold.
As she went to the kitchens she saw that the ovens hadn't even been switched on. Those outdated behemoths took a good hour or so to warm up. Taking initiative she flicked them on, not checking inside and not realising they were occupied until screaming and thumping filled the air. Throwing the oven doors open she caught sight of charred uniforms before she turned away to vomit on the freshly mopped floor.
By the time she turned round the screams had stopped, replaced by crackling and the smell of roast pork. Once she was sure she had nothing left in her stomach she turned around to assess the damage. Two mostly cooked people,her co-workers, were half in the oven and half out. It seemed like they'd been trying to crawl away (or towards her) as her back was turned.
Holding back tears she walked as quickly as she could to the owner's office, intending to ask what the hell was going on but first she checked the rest of the kitchen. If people were hiding in the oven then who knows where else they were, or why they were there.
The fridge was fully stocked, all looking normal until she opened the vegetable drawer and found a small child stuffed in there, limbs bruised and at odd angles. Poor thing's skin was that pallid bloodless colour that let her know they'd died long before she got there.
The cupboards were utterly, and thankfully, bare.
As she approached the rear of the restaurant she noticed the owner's door was wide open. Usually there was a sign outside saying "Knock First" but today it had been replaced by a note asking staff to write their mobile numbers down as their data was being re-examined. thinking she'd found a little piece of normality she grabbed the pen she kept in her apron pocket and scribbled her number down before heading inside.
The whole room was empty. No desk, no wall art, no carpet either. It was like they'd been in the process of renovating but were only at the stage where everything was primed for renewal. After spending a few moments checking the walls of the room in case this was some kind of elaborate prank, her phone buzzed.
She received a text from a number she didn't recognise but her phone had somehow saved it as "Boss". It just said "Employee meeting @ 08:00." She hoped she'd get the answers to whatever was going on here and shot a quick reply off asking if they were in the staff room.
It was several minutes before she received a reply simply stating "We're in the meat locker".
The meat locker was situated right at the back of the restaurant, for health and safety according to the head chef. It was quite a big room too, L-shaped and easily sealed by a large metal door to keep the cold right inside.
Like the owner's office, the door was wide open which explained the sharp chill to the air. Before stepping inside she made sure to grab a chair from out front to hold the door open just in case, carefully avoiding looking into the kitchen. She wasn't sure if she was scared of seeing her co-worker's bodies or not seeing them.
As she entered she heard frantic whispering erupt from around the corner, where the large pieces of meat were kept. Walking briskly over, keen to get answer and get the hell out she found herself hesitating just before the corner. From there the whispering didn't sound like conversation at all, it sounded like they were mimicking animal sounds.
Peering around the frost covered corner she found the rest of the staff and clients. They were in varying states of preparation, from bleeding out over a waste bin to skinned and strung up to finish drying out. She saw people she recognised. She saw their mouths moving, making the shapes of the animal whispering. None of them had eyes, just gaping holes cut with surgical precision.
None of them were in any fit state to answer her so she left.
Everything outside was deserted now as well. She almost thought she was the last living human in town until she caught site of someone scurrying down an alley. She almost went to pursue them but before she could so much as twitch a muscle she saw what he was running from.
Picture a Rat King, now if you've never heard of one it's a legendary English creature formed by dozens of rats getting their tails tangled together until they resemble one large rat-bundle. If that was classed as a king the creature shambling down that alley was royalty as well, all conjoined at the legs to the point where it was just a tumble of arms and rolling heads.
She didn't know if it spotted her, didn't stick around long enough to find out.
She went home and took stock of everything in her apartment, hoping to ration it long enough to find a way to leave the town without being spotted or at least not being caught.
No comments:
Post a Comment