The Kitchen

         This place looks so familiar, despite the bodies on the ground all around me. Not a sight I'm used to seeing when I just wake up. The smell in the air is making me sick, the stench of death. Blood is all over the room.

         I'm in so much pain. I have cuts and stab wounds all over my body, from my short brown messy hair to my ripped white shirt and jeans. My blood is mostly dry, but some still dripping out of me. And... and my ass. "OW!" I grab onto a nearby sink to get some leverage to help me stand up. Once I'm up, I reach around to find out what's causing all the pain in my backside. Something is sticking out of it. I try twisting my body so I can see what's poking me, but the pain is too great from all the cuts and wounds.

         I yank the object out of behind me, then bring it close to my eye to get a good look at it. After wiping off the blood I see what it is... a fork. "A fork!" Out of everything, I had a fork stabbed in me. So odd, and yet so suiting, because I'm in a kitchen.

         I'm in a kitchen I use to work in. The people around me use to work here with me too, until the place got closed down. I am a veternarian now. That's what I was going to school for while I worked here.

         This place actually gave good pay too. I would have probably quit school and stayed here if it never closed down. And the customers... they were so many times that beautiful women would come in here and flirt with me. The only flaw here was the manager.

         Heavy breathing is heard in the distance. I must find what it is. So I make my way out of the kitchen, pushing everything from coddled eggs to dead bodies out of the way. It's in the bathroom. Once I make it to the bathroom, I kick the door opened and I stand there, armed with nothing but my fork. The fork, covered with blood, and some tiny shit particles, thanks to the jackass that stuck it in my ass.

         Once I'm in the bathroom, I hear the breathing getting loud. I know I'm in the right place. It's not coming from the stalls though, thank god. Its coming from behind me, where the sinks and mirror in this bathroom were located. As I turn, I see them standing there, between the door I came in and the sinks. Two people, a guy and girl, standing upright and fucking.

         I almost want to kill them for freaking me out like that. I try to scare them off, with the blood and shit covered fork, but they are in a trance. To involved with each other, probably tripping on some drug, like 'X'. How long had they been like this? They have probably been here long before the murders started.

         Just then, the bathroom door is kicked off its hinges, and fly's at the two people tripping and having sex. There he stands, my former manager. He was a dick to begin with, but ever since this place closed, he went mad. Blaming all of us, for our horrible jobs working there. "Jason Almeida" he yells out. Jason Almeida, that was my name. He always blamed me the most for the close. I was a crappy cook on the grill, he always said. Tonight I'd show him how crappy I was, when I stab him with my crap flavored fork.

         He then pulls an axe out from behind his back. An axe versus my 'shit' fork. "Fuck that... I'm not going to be the hero today." I mumble as I toss the fork at him, and run toward the back of the bathroom, with the decaying walls. I slip into one of the giant holes in the wall, pushing the insulation out of my way. As I stand between the walls, hidden behind the insulation, I realize how stupid of a move that just was. But then I see a crack of light a little distant in front of me between the walls. I make my way to it as quick as I can.

         It is a small hole that reaches to outside the building. I duck down, and somehow maneuver my way out. I run into a bunch of cops that have been sitting outside, about to make a move to stop this psychopath inside. I tell them where I last saw him, and they rush in. I am safe, for now...

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