When I was 16, I worked at a restauraunt in my town. It was called, “Victor’s Meals”. The owner, Victor, was an old man who lost his wife to an intruder years ago. The restaurant was in a small town, so not too many people came it was just me and Victor. I was the only hired employee here. One night while I was working the late shift Victor walked in with a young boy wearing the new uniform. “Alina, this is our new employee. His name is Michael.” Said Victor, walking the boy in. I walked around the table and check Michael’s hand. “Welcome to the family Michael!” I said. Michael chuckled. “Please, call me Mike. All my friends call me that.” He said. “OK Mike.” I said, letting go of his hand. Victor interrupted and came between the two of us. “I was thinking an easy way to show Michael the ropes around here was to role-play!” Said Victor. Mike snickered. “Get your mind out of the gutter, boy.” Said Victor. “What do you mean by role-play, sir?” I asked politely. “Alina you will be a customer and Mike, you will serve her!” he said. Mike gave me a concerned look. “it’s good practice, boy.” Victor said, in a short voice. Mike stood shocked and silent. “Mike ,come with me to the back so you can help prepare the food to serve our dear customer.” said Victor, jokingly to me. I let out a small giggle as Victor lead Mike to the back.
20 minutes later and I received no food after ordering. It was only one order and it took about 10 minutes to actually prepare the meal. As I was growing worried I heard a crash of plates and dishes in the back. I stood up, concerned as Victor came in slowly. “What happened, are you OK?” I asked Victor, scanning him for cuts or any bleeding. “I’m fine Mike just dropped some dishes.” Victor said calmly. I peaked in the back and saw shards of glass. “And where is Micheal?” I asked. Victor suddenly lost his bright smile. “I sent Mike to grab a broom.” said Victor. I sighed. “OK, just be careful.” I said as Victor stumbled back into the kitchen. “Will do!” He said.
Another 20 minutes, and my concern grows. As I was about to say something about their absence, Victor came in, with a plate with a pearly white bowl ontop. “Soup Ma’m?” Said Victor, placing the food on my table. I raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought Mike was supposed to be serving my food?” I pronounced. Victor sighed, disappointedly. “Micheal was sent home. Apparently had a family issue.” Victor said. “Oh, maybe continue his training another time?” I said jokingly. Victor laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.” He said. I handed Victor the plate, to which he refused. “Victor I don’t need soup I have food at home.” I said. Victor set the plate on my table again. “It won’t cost you anything. I’ll just start cleaning and you can enjoy a free meal. My treat.” Victor said roughly. “OK…OK…” I said, raising my spoon slowly. I scooped up some broth and sipped it in. It was boiling hot and tasted horrendous. I scrambled for a napkin and spat out the food. It was terrible and tasted of bile. I shoved the soup to the other side of the table. I never knew anything could taste that horrible. “I better help you clean Victor.” I said, as a clear excuse. Victor scowled. “No. I’ll keep cleaning and you can head home for the day. Another treat of mine.” I was confused. “Go!” He yelled. I was so shocked, I jogged to the back, picked up my keys, purse, and jacket and left.
As I turned my key in my car, I could hear Victor’s screaming and the banging of pots and glass crashing on the floor. I suddenly heard the old man scream. I whipped off my jacket and whipped out my phone as I unlocked the building’a back door. As the door whipped open, I saw Victor on the floor surrounded in a pool of blood and glass shards. A large clean wound was open on his arm and knee. “Victor, are you OK?” I exclaimed in alarm. “I will be fine…” he stuttered weakly. “I’m calling 911, you need an Ambulance.” I said. Victor alarmingly and weakly attempted to stand up. “Alina, no, stop.” I ignored the man’s pleas. “You need help Victor.” I said. I rested the phone on my shoulder as I hassled to find towels to soak up the blood. “911, what is your emergency?” Said a voice echoing through my phone.
“Are you sure you two are not related? Would you want to go to the hospital with him?” the man driving Victor’s ambulance asked. I shook my head. “I only work at his restaurant. I just need to go home right now.” I said. “Understandable, have a great night.” He said, as he drove off. As the police searched the building for a reason for Victor’s injuries, I tiredly got into my car and drove off, awaiting a proper meal at home.
As I tucked myself into a blanket and threw more pieces of popcorn into my mouth. I softly pressed the power button on my TV remote. The silence through my house was interrupted by the loud voices of news anchors on the TV. I was scrolling though TV channels until my heart stopped. On the News channel, appeared photos of “Victor’s Meals”, surrounded by authorities and police tape. I clicked on the news channel and sat on the edge of my seat. I sat still in horror as the reporters went on about finding Micheal Contren’s body was found, mutilated in the dumpster out back. I dropped the remote and it shattered as it hit the hard wood floor. It then showed parts of his body in the fryers, the oven, any kitchen appliance in that kitchen. What was next was the terrifying. I started gagging and wanting to upchuck. They found parts of Micheal in a soup on one of the tables.
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