Written for Paul's challenge, which you can read about here:
The restaurant was quiet, eerily so. After the string of murders occurring in this small podunk town, no one wanted to be out after dusk. "The Meat Mutilator," as they called the killer, was still on the loose and considered armed and very dangerous. Making matters more terrifying, no one had lived to give a description of the cold-blooded killer.
Debbie didn't care that the town was all locked away or that the news couldn't stop talking about the psychopath on the loose. She was craving Steak-n-More, and her fridge looked as barren as her innards. This was a craving that she couldn't ignore. Anyway, she rather enjoyed being the only customer in the restaurant. She'd be sure to get exceptional service.
"Hey there, dear, surprised to see a young lady like you out and about with all the craziness going on," the waitress said as she approached her table, "Every time the door opens, I get a wave of anxiety, even though there are police on every corner."
"Yeah, I hear ya, but I couldn't stay in my apartment another second," Debbie replied. "I've been craving this restaurant for days. I have this insane desire for steak, and all that sitting around made me stir crazy! A little fresh air on my walk over did me good."
"Well, you're a brave one. Not many people are risking their lives for dinner," the waitress chuckled, "I'm only working because I need the money to keep the heat on. Frankly, I'm glad to have a customer to make it worth my while being here. So, thanks for comin' in! Anyway, what can I get ya?"
"I'll have a nice piece of steak. Make it extra well done. I mean, char that slab of meat until there's not one single bit of pink left. Dark grey all the way through. I want you to grill that flesh so intensely that it looks like it shook the hand of the devil, licked his foot, and barely made it back from the fiery grasp of hell...and to drink I'llllll haaaavvveee..." she said as she ran her finger down the menu, "an extra-large glass of cold almond milk, on the rocks."
"Hmmm, interesting combo," the waitress said, holding back the shudder she felt inside as she choked out an inauthentic laugh. "Usually, people order a nice red wine with their steak. Never thought to pair it with almond milk."
"Well, you're missin' out on a pairing of the gods. An extra well-done fresh piece of meat, charred to the texture of a tire, chased down by a *thick, creamy, nutty milk alternative. I'm drooling already," she said, sucking back the string of spit that had seeped out of the corner of her lips. "Oh, excuse me," she laughed as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve, "Sometimes I get a little overly excited about food. You understand."
"Sure I do." The waitress forced a fake smile, noticing a few drops of blood on the cuff of her customer's shirt. She nodded, turned toward the back of the restaurant, heart racing, and hurriedly walked toward the kitchen, anxious to get away from this psychopath. As she swung open the kitchen doors, she screamed as her eyes met the cold stare of the beloved chef... lying on the chopping block.
"Hey, dear?" Debbie yelled in a cheery voice from the dining room, "Just remembered that I wanted to tell you which cut of meat I'd like. Could you make it...the chef special...please?"
The waitress frantically grabbed the phone off the wall and, with trembling fingers, mashed the buttons 9-1-1... but the line was dead.
*the almond milk description I stole from Paul's Almond Milk hate mail.
I am absolutely, 100% not a horror lover/writer. When I read unsettling stories, they plant themselves in my brain and begin to stir at about 3 a.m., so I thought I couldn't participate in Paul's new horror challenge. But then I remembered his absolute disdain for almond milk and overcooked meat and decided to chill him to the core. This is about as creepadelic as I can get. Haha!
Pal, I hope you were unsettled, if not by my lame attempt at horror; then I hope I at least gave you a shiver from the steak and almond milk descriptions.
Please take a moment to read about Paul's repulsions below:
About the Creator
Words fly to me on the wind, bump into me as I'm strolling the city, splash me in the face while I rest by the river, and shake me awake in the middle of the night– I’m humbly one of the many vessels they use to come to life.
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme