XIX (Part I)

My heart is throbbing inside my chest as I gasp for air. What just happened?

I slightly push myself away from Harris. I meet his eyes, "What is going-" he cuts me off as he put one of his hands to cover my mouth while the other signals me to -shh.

He then moves his fingers to point in a direction behind me. I turn my head around and see a huge man walking around the kitchen floor. It turns out that we are not the only people here. Is he a survivor, too? Or a mere employee?

And also, why does it seem like although he has thrown a knife at us earlier, he does not appear to be aware of other people in the kitchen right now?

"He must be the head chef," I hear Harris whisper. The man is indeed wearing a chef's uniform with a black apron. He is short and quite fat with a mustache just above his mouth. He turns around while tapping on the tables as if he is looking for something.

I look back at us and notice that Harris can hide us behind the metal door we have used as the entrance. The knife that has been thrown at us lies still on the wall opposite the door. "We have to get out of here," I hear him whisper. "This will never protect us from him."

"Where are we going to hide then?"

"I see a door over there just beyond this room," he points to a glass door opposite us, "If we crawl underneath these tables, we might get to hide there until we can make up a plan to do something."

He takes my hand. We go down to the floor, hiding beneath the tables, and stay out of the chef's plain sight.

"Aha!" We hear him exclaim. "There you are." The soft fluorescent light of the kitchen reflects the small metal he is holding. He turns around and we see a new kitchen knife is in his hand again. It swiftly blinds my eye as I realize that the cabinet next to us is covered with glass. I pause. I feel beads of sweat on my forehead as I stay careful staying with my shaking hands and feet. I can see the chef clearly where we are at. WAIT! I feel all the blood drain from me. I can see his reflection in the glass! If bothers to look at the cabinet in front of him, will he clearly see us sneaking our way across his kitchen? What is going on? Is he going to kill us?

Why can we see him on the glass?

I look at Harris who is crawling before me. We don't have anything to protect ourselves with right now. He looks back at me and mouths We are almost there.

So, with all the nervousness in me, I bite my lips and continue to trod on. One arm at a time, one knee at the time. Breathing heavily as I try not to tumble. Harris has finally reached the door. He looks back and I see him stare at the glass cabinet, waiting for a chance to raise his hand to reach the knob. The chef eventually goes to reach out for the fridge that is located near the entrance of the kitchen. When he opens the left door, Harris takes it as a chance to sneak himself inside the darkroom. He left the door slightly open as he gestures, come, to me.

Blag

I freeze on my spot. I hear a glass break. What the-

I feel more afraid for my life when I look at Harris and see fear in his eyes. I try to look back but I hear him whisper quite loudly, "No!"

"Who's there?!" I hear the chef call out. I don't know what's going on. I keep my eyes on Harris as he signals me to continue to crawl as silent as I can be to him. "Don't let me catch you, you intruder!"

Harris opens up the door in front of me. It is wide enough for me to fit. I quicken my pace and immediately go inside the small space. I am panting when I reach the comfort that Harris offers to me.

I just got in on time when I hear a person go inside.

"How's the preparation, chef?"

I quickly settle beside Harris who has now slowly closed the door to not make it sound.

"What happened?" I immediately ask Harris in a whisper.

"He broke a jar while he is in the fridge. He was reaching out for it on the floor and any obvious move you would have made could have exposed you in clear sight," he tells me. As the door is made from steel and has a one-way mirror, it gives us access to see what is currently happening outside. This is indeed a good place to hide. We continue to eavesdrop on the conversation outside.

One of the 12 employees approaches the chef.

"Are you sure that this is the last one?" we hear the chef said.

"No," another 2 male employees arrive carrying a huge black bag with them. They lay it on the table with a blag! "This is not the last but this received the prayers to the gods," he added.

Wait... what does he mean? I reach my hands to my mouth to stop myself from screaming. No way. I look at Harris and I can't make up the expression he is making. His face is stern and cold. I am starting to feel agitated. I reach out to hold his hand as I try to make up the room we are in.

Of all the things that I have seen in this entire night, nothing compares to the dread I feel right now as I see the sight in front of me. The room is dark and the only light we have is from the kitchen outside, through the one-way mirror. I couldn't make up so much but there are silhouettes of things that look a lot like cocoons lying hanging from the ceiling. There are hundreds of them. They are huge, long, and they seem heavy.

I feel a shiver crawl on my skin as I try to make sense of what lies ahead of us. I am praying that I am wrong. I hope that I am indeed wrong.

"I don't know if this will work."

"We know... but we have no other choice, it is now almost sunrise. At least, we need something to consume."

"We are running out of time. I'm sure Erebus won't let those remaining survivors escape."

The chef goes silent for a while. "Okay then, let me prepare it so we can eat it once the first ray of morning light comes," we hear the chef say before the three men leave the kitchen room.

No... That can't be...

I stand up to look around but Harris' hold grows firmer than before. I look at him as he meets my eyes. He looks helpless and desperate at the same time all the while knowing that he couldn't do anything yet. He must be thinking what I am currently thinking. I need to confirm my assumptions as I already have a hunch of what is going on. We need to be strong. I stand up and I feel him losing his grip on me. I understand that right now, he must be feeling powerless. This is the worst scenario even I could not imagine.

I reach out to the nearest plastic bag near me and slowly try to tear its side open. A pale hand suddenly emerges from it. The thing inside looks yellow and it feels mushy.

"Harris?" I call him. He looks up at me.

"Hmm?"

"I think we are inside the meat storage... Only, in here, they use human meat instead."