A lot of people, sometimes famous people, may see me as a happy, boastful and a smiley head chef - happy working at the most famous restaurant in town. But, sometimes I wish they don’t see that, I wish they could: peel back the hat back, peel back the face, peel back the happiness, revealing a true secret that’s hanging over me like a gloomy cloud. A secret that I had to keep a secret for many years.

Why would you ask? My life was and still is on the line, if a tiny bit of this secret is let out onto the streets. It would most likely mean either me or my family would be dead without hesitation. Proving the dark secret isn’t meant to be close to the public eye.

It was my fourth month into my head chef role at the famous restaurant, nothing much, just clearing up after a long - successful - night. I realised I forgot to place the new orders of fresh ingredients into the fridge for the next week. Sighing, like I always do after a big night, I began taking the fresh ingredients to the fridge.

Moments passed until I felt something knocked over, making me swear under my breath, hoping it wasn’t something important to the manager. Turning around, I noticed something out of the ordinary. ‘A knife? In the fridge?’, I thought, wondering if a worker or sues chef left it in here by accident. I shrugged it off and bent over to get the knife - but something caught my eye.

Blood. A trail of blood, trailing underneath the wall.

I froze, looking at the blood - wondering if I’m sleep deprived again. But when I went to touch the blood..it felt cold yet sticky. My mind went to the worst, ‘Is someone dead? Injured? Or maybe it’s an animal that hasn’t been cleaned out-‘. Millions thoughts went through my mind, but I knew I have to find out either way.

So I steadily, and shakily place my hand above where the blood was, pushing against the suppose hidden door. Flinching at the creaking it made, taking a moment to face a dead animal, I looked up - oh I regret looking up. My breath hitches, as if a cold hand was beginning to choke me. Eyes widening at the sight in front of me.

Bodies. Dead bodies. Bodies with blood drained out of them. Muscles in one giant container, with the writing ‘Pork meat’. I felt my stomach falling to the floor. Have I really been cooking these since I’ve started working here?

Moments passed before I knew I had to call the cops, soon as I grabbed my phone. I felt a knock against my own head, falling forwards as the world around me slowly became surrounded with a dull void. All I could hear before I passed out was,

“I suggest you keep quiet about this L or anyone you know or love will die~”

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